“You don’t have to do this, Emma,” I plead softly.
“Shut up!” she screams, startling me.
She grabs both of my hands and twists them behind my back, but the zip tie that she was holding falls to the ground. The moment that she bends to pick it up, I bolt.
I take off in the direction of the small shed next to the greenhouse, knowing that there’s a shovel leaning against it. My abdomen clenches as I sprint across the lawn, pumping my arms as hard and fast as I possibly can.
“Stop!” Emma yells from behind me, but my chest heaves and I barrel ahead.
When the pop of a gunshot tears through the air, I lunge forward and fall to the ground with a thud.
29
WARREN
“Give me one good reason why we can’t buy a golf cart,” Tripp says. He’s standing by the door wearing nothing but a straw cowboy hat and swim trunks.
Gage stares at him from his spot in the recliner in the bunkhouse living room.
I laugh and shake my head picturing Tripp installing a sound system and off-road tires on a damn golf cart then zipping it around the ranch.
“What the hell are you going to do with a golf cart that you can’t do with a four-wheeler?” I ask.
“It’s more comfortable,” Tripp explains. “And electric. Environmentally friendly.”
“Not enough power,” Heston says.
B is sitting on top of the cooler in the middle of the living room with a drink in her hand and the rest of us have been arguing over fucking golf carts due to boredom. I look down and mindlessly scroll through my phone for a few minutes, waiting for Savannah to show back up.
My brows draw together as I try to calculate how long she’s been gone. She said she’d hurry back, but maybe she decided tochange there or she couldn’t find what she was looking for at her house.
I’m about to call her and check-in when a text notification pops up at the top of my screen.
Savannah
I’m not feeling up to anything and would rather be alone, so I’m going to stay here instead.
“What the fuck?” I say under my breath while trying to make sense of her text. Why wouldn’t she have mentioned that before she left? Or called to tell me that? She seemed like she was excited to hang out at the river this afternoon but maybe she was putting on an act.
A painful sting resonates in my chest when I think about what happened in the tractor. I didn’t want to take things to that level with her without being honest about how I felt. Everything that she said and did in response to that felt genuine. She could have been lying. Did I scare her off?
Fuck. Even with the possibility of her running in the opposite direction, I don’t regret telling her how I feel. I could give her some space, but I really don’t fucking want to. I click on her name and put my phone to my ear.
It rings several times with no answer and eventually goes to voicemail.
I try again with the same result.
Standing from the couch, I type out a text to her in case she’s just ignoring me and doesn’t want to talk on the phone.
We can stay in instead of going to the river if you want. Talk to me.
Savannah
No thank you
Alright, what the hell changed in the last half an hour? My mind races with the possibilities, but I can’t wrap my head around it. This doesn’t seem right.
I try calling again, which probably makes me seem like a psycho, but I don’t care. Again, there’s no answer. I can’t control whether or not she tries to walk away out of fear after what we did and everything that was said today. But I’m not going to sit back and let it happen without at least a damn conversation.
