I'm not going to?—
“Boden.” My dad’s voice is calm and quiet, the kind of quiet that only precedes me getting my ass handed to me. “I didn’t raise a disrespectful coward. You will marry Savannah Ward, and I won't hear another word of nonsense from you. You will break things off with Kenzie and will only see her for work purposes on the ranch. I will not have you make a laughingstock of the Montgomery name, and that's the end of it. Do you understand?”
“Dad…”
My voice cracks and fades to nothing as my confidence wavers and fails me. In the end, I'm still my father’s son. I'm still sand, whereas he's an immovable pile of stone. I should've known better than to try to butt heads with him.
I should've known better than to let myself hope.
“Do you understand?”
“I hear you.” I bark out a laugh, dropping my gaze to glare a hole through the floorboards between my feet. “Loud and fucking clear.”
I turn and march right back out of the kitchen, leaving the bag from the cafe where it fell on the floor. My parents both shout after me as I storm out of the house, but I ignore them. The door slams shut with a violent crack behind me, and I stalk down the steps and back to my truck.
I don't know where I'm going to go or what I'm going to do, but I know that I can't be here right now. I just can't.
I fumble my phone out of my pocket and dial Oakley as I climb into my truck. It feels dumb, calling my little sister to fix my messes, but she's way smarter than I've ever been. If anyone can get me out of this before my whole life goes down the drain, it's her.
She picks up just as the truck rumbles to life, and I sigh in relief.
“Hey big guy,” she says. “You calling just because you miss me, or do you need something? I'm in the middle of making the best grilled cheese ever, so if it can wait, I'll call you back.”
I choke out a chuckle even as tears blur my vision. Leave it to her to make me laugh even now.
“Dad’s going to make me marry Savannah,” I say weakly.
It hurts so much worse to hear it out loud.
“Fuck.” Oakley sucks in a breath, and I hear a bit of muffled talking on the other end of the life before she comes back to the phone. “Alright, grilled cheese can wait. Tell me everything.”
Chapter Seventeen
KENZIE
I’m strugglingto twist all of my hair into a braid when a knock sounds at my door. I jump in surprise and glance at the time on my phone before ducking out of the bathroom to stare quizzically down the hall.
It’s nearly nine, and I’m not expecting anyone.
I abandon my attempt at braiding and hesitantly make my way toward the door, my fluffy cat slipper scuffing against the floors. When I make it there, I lean up to glance through the peephole, only to be greeted by a shaggy head of hair and a familiar set of slumped shoulders. I tug the door open immediately.
“Bo?”
He looks up slowly, his movements jerky and disjointed. His face is gaunt, dried tear tracks shining on his cheeks. My heart trips over itself in my chest, and I pull him inside without another thought.
He comes easily, his massive frame folding in on itself as he stumbles his way inside. Bo’s never been the uncertain type, but now he stands in my entryway like he has no clue how he gothere or what he’s supposed to do. I have no clue what put him in this state, but the most important thing right now is to get him onto the couch and bundled up in a blanket or ten. He looks like he’s seconds from passing out.
“Come on,” I say softly, tugging on his wrist after closing the door.
He follows me easily, letting me guide him to the couch and drape my fluffiest blanket over his shoulders without complaint. I sit on the edge of my coffee table, keeping his big hands enveloped in mine.
“Can you tell me what happened?” I ask gently.
I feel a little like I’m talking to one of my students, but whatever’s going on with him is a lot bigger than failing a math test. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before he gets anything out, and the sound of his voice breaks my heart.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
He sounds fragile and frail, and he squeezes my hands, but there’s no strength in the movement.
