Roulette’s expression changes like he’s trying to be cordial, but the hardness in his eyes never leaves. “You take us to where the drugs are, and nothing bad will happen.”
I nod like I believe them. They don’t plan to let me live past this encounter, but none of that matters if I can get them away from the house.
Roulette gestures to Jagger, “Go start the car. Have it running, and we’ll be there in a minute. I don’t want them seeing three of us leave together.”
Jagger disappears to get the car. I know that this is my chance if I want to make an escape. We’re one on one now, but he still has a gun. If only I had something of my own, a weapon to even the playing field. That’s when I spot a shovel in the corner of the stall. It’s not as good as a gun, but it’s better than nothing.
As if she can sense the plan forming in my mind, Belle neighs loudly.
It distracts Roulette long enough for me to make my move. I grab the shovel and jab his stomach with it. He doubles over with a wheeze, and I use it to smack him on the head. He crumples in a heap, and I kick the gun away.
Griffin shouts my name. There’s an edge of undeniable panic in his voice, which means he found Jagger already.
“I’m in here,” I call.
He joins me in the stall, his gun trained on Roulette who is still unconscious at my feet. He scans me from head to toe with his gaze. His face is white, and I’ve never seen him clutch his gun before.
I ask the first question I can think of, the only one that matters. “Is Daisy OK? Is she safe?”
“She’s still sleeping. Never even knew what was happening. Did he hurt you?” His words are tumbling over each other, growing increasingly angry. I think he’s close to pulling that trigger. One word from my lips, and he’d do it without hesitation.
“Griffin, look at me,” I command.
He drags his gaze away from the drug dealer to me.
“It’s not the same thing. I’m not her. I’m here with you. I’m safe now,” I promise.
I see the moment my words register. The thick tension he’s carrying melts away. My heart hurts for the boy who lost his mom and for the man who had to relive his worst nightmare. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Two more ranch hands arrive along with Russell. Within seconds, they have Roulette secured with zip ties. He’s barely moving, but he’s still breathing.
“You were so brave,” Griffin crushes me against his chest, burying his face in my hair. “All I could think about was getting to you.”
I melt into his embrace, not caring about our audience of cowboys. “What made you realize something was wrong?”
“I came out to the barn to find you. Two of our guys were down. Said they’d been hit by someone who came up from behind them.”
“Luke is already on his way,” Russell tells us. “He’ll probably have some questions for you.”
Sheriff Luke arrives within a few minutes. He puts both Roulette and Jagger into the back of his car. Then Griffin and I follow him down to the station, so we can give our statements.
Everything feels surreal, like a dream and not something that actually happened to me. At least, it does until halfway through my statement. That’s when I realize everything that could have happened. I could have lost Daisy. I could have lost Griffin. I could have been killed.
Tears pour down my face as I start to sob and shake, the adrenaline gone from my system.
Griffin wraps his arms around me and says to Luke, “The interview is over. If you have more questions, you know where to find her.”
With that, he picks me up and carries me from the station.
Daisy is still sleeping soundly in her crib when we get home. Dorothy and Russell are up in the kitchen drinking coffee at the table. They look up when we come into the house, but Griffin shakes his head, so they don’t say a word.
He carries me into the bedroom. “Let’s get you in bed.”
“I still smell like horse and muck. I need a shower,” I croak, my throat raw from crying for the last hour.
He carries me into the bathroom and sets me gently on the counter. He warms the shower water before undressing me. There’s not a lot of room in the shower stall, but he still crowds in there with me. His hands roam over my body as he washes me tenderly.
When we’re done, he dresses me in one of his old T-shirts and dries my hair, combing it so gently that it never snags.
