Delete.
Wilder:What’s it tonight, scenic or a creepy doll?
Delete.
Wilder:Coffee on me tomorrow if you turn your lights out soon.
Delete.
19
Rose
It’s Friday night. The night of the heist the guys and I have been planning, and I’m a nervous wreck.
It helps that I’ve only seen Wilder a total of three times all week.
He’s distracted. It can’t just be me anymore. Maybe it’s Dallas? Maybe the rodeo? I’m anxious to know. I’m anxious to help.
And this whole thing Randy and the others are planning with Tuscan is starting to feel less and less like a good idea.
Oddly enough, the anxiety over it all week helped me fall asleep at a reasonable enough hour. Well, reasonable for me.
The locks on my door have helped too. I do feel safer.
Wes has been coming over for dinner the last few nights and apologized for last weekend. I want to be mad at him for being the reason Wilder’s set a wall between us, but truthfully, it doesn’t matter anymore. Not now. Not when I can feel the man hurting.
As planned, I leave my lights on in the cottage and sneak out. I don’t want to draw attention to myself so I don’t take the golfcart. I start on foot, keeping my eyes and ears on alert.
Nelson spots me and waves me down just outside his cabin, and I catch a ride with him in his Jeep.
“That what you’re wearin’?”
I’m wearing a long, black, off-shoulder sweater and denim shorts.
“Oh, I’m not going to the rodeo,” I say. “I’m just helping with .?.?.”
“The heist?” Nelson finishes.
I shake my head. “Let’s get this over with. Just be careful with him.”
“Who you talkin’ to? Randy’s a helluva rider. He’ll win.”
“Technically, the horse wins, right? And it’ll help get Blue River Ranch more recognition?”
“Absolutely. Come on.” He parks in a dark spot on the side of the stables. And I notice the lights are dim around the building. Some even turned off.
“Who shut off the lights?” I say, approaching Randy and Barry, who are already here.
“I did,” Randy says.
“That was a bad idea. Someone will notice. Better to keep them the way they always are.”
Randy chuckles as he preps Tuscan.
Something tugs in my chest. I start to wonder if he really has Wilder’s best interests at heart.
“She might be right,” Nelson says. “Should we turn them back on?”
