My type was groomed, rich and distant.
And dead, as it was.
Duke was definitely as silent as the dead since he ignored my question. This annoyed me. A lot. Sure, he didn’t like me, he had good reason. I was a superior bitch to him when he’d worked for me, because I’d found him too attractive. It was my defense mechanism. I sensed that he could be dangerous if I let myself be nice to him, if I even opened up the possibility of him liking me. No, the worst thing would be trying to be myself with him—whoever the heck that was—and him rejecting me anyway. It was much safer for him to reject who I pretended to be rather than who I really was.
But he was also being paid by me. Handsomely. He took this job. This was his choice. No one was holding the proverbial gun to his head, he could’ve said no. He didn’t. Therefore he might not have to like me, but he did have to answer my questions.
“You really need to stop acting like I’m you’re captive,” I snapped. “I did not force you to be here, I did not drag you away from your gym, from your infidels you have been no doubt beating into submission, or your no doubt soft, kind, and loving girlfriend.” I ignored the pang I got thinking about some faceless woman I was instantly jealous of. “I get you don’t like me. The feeling is mutual. But I witnessed a murder. My life is being ruined. I think I deserve to know where the fuck we’re going.”
I hadn’t meant to say all of that. No, I had. Because I was angry. At Duke, sure. But at the world mostly. At this whole fucking situation. At me for deciding to stop by Salvador’s house for a fucking orgasm instead of going straight home.
Having cameras follow you around constantly, people sending me hatred on social media, other people in “real life” being rude or condescending, I was well versed at keeping ahold of my temper. Keeping ahold of everything, in fact. I’d gotten an Oscar plus two Golden Globes for my work in movies, but I should’ve gotten them all for my acts in life.
Duke had stopped looking at the road. He was now staring at me. No more professional distaste on his face. He was irritated, but interested. He was likely considering whether he’d still have his job if he just dumped me on the side of the road.
I was fixated on him. His eyes. The connection between us that was annoyance and dislike. I was also ashamed at how deep it cut, his dislike. How much I longed to be the soft, strong and loveable woman like the one at the table who had stared me down. Like the one who he’d have waiting for him at the end of all this.
As quick as my anger had appeared, it fizzled out. I was too tired to fight this man, who was looking at me, daring me to say more. The air was thick with aggression, and something else. Something else I had to be imagining. Duke kept my gaze for a couple more beats then looked to the road again, professional distaste firmly in place.
“We’re going to my family’s ranch.”
He was annoyed he had to tell me this.
I got over the fact that he seemed so put out at telling me where I was going to hide out from murderers because I was too focused on the specific.
“Your family’s ranch?” I repeated.
He nodded once.
My stomach swirled with unease. “Why aren’t we going to some rental in the middle of the mountains, or a motel?”
I’d been so sure I’d rather be anywhere than that shitty motel room with two beds and no clean bathroom, but the idea of going to his family’s ranch was nauseating. That Duke’s family had a ranch was interesting to me, in the middle of all the other feelings. I didn’t peg him for a cowboy. I hated how much that image pleased me.
The whites of his knuckles were evidence of just how tight he was holding on to the steering wheel. Just how pissed off he was at me.
“Because all of that leaves a record,” he bit out.
“Don’t you have a designated safe house?” I asked, refusing to let him intimidate me into silence.
“Yeah,” he said. “But it’s in use right now. And I’m not risking shit by taking you somewhere I’m not familiar with. I know every inch of that ranch. Trust everyone there. I know what I’m doin’. You’ll stay alive long enough to testify, put this fuck away, and this will all be a distant memory.”
The way he said it cut through me. He was already preparing to forget me. And yet I knew this man would be a ghost, following me around for the rest of my life.
However long that was, remained to be seen.
We pulled up to the ranch.
For whatever reason, I’d been expecting something...shabby. Which made no sense at all, since Duke was nowhere near shabby. He was well groomed and well dressed in good quality clothes. Not showy, just good quality.
He had impeccable manners. I knew how to spot that, since I hadn’t been raised well. Early, I was taught how to be a respectful person. Blurry lessons taught by an honorable man. One that I wondered if I imagined—just to keep myself sane—to comfort myself with the lie that someone in this world had loved me, had wanted to teach me how to be good, kind, and soft.
But lessons from future dirtbags erased anything valuable I’d learned. So I’d had to learn all those things, all of those good things when I was old enough to know how embarrassing it was not to know how to use a knife and fork correctly. How to speak properly. Basic manners.
So yes, you learned to spot things that came naturally to people when you were trying to mimic it.
And it was more than apparent that Duke was raised well. That he had money.
But still, I expected a crumbling shack in the middle of a yellowed farm, almost as an absurd punishment for how much he didn’t like me.
That was not what I got. The entrance to the driveway itself was a large gate, two horses reared up on each pillar.
The driveway was dirt, but free of potholes.
There was green everywhere. Fields that seemed to stretch on for days, peaks of mountains bordering the unobstructed view. Very few signs of humanity marred the land. Some fences. Not much else, from what I could see.
“This is your ranch?” I asked, a whisper.
“My family’s,” Duke said, voice hard.
My eyes were glued to the rolling landscape—something I’d definitely seen before as I’d traveled all over the world—but this was different somehow. Maybe because I knew that this was Duke’s.
“You grew up here?” I imagined a smaller, less jaded and less macho version of the man beside me growing up in the midst of this beauty.
I wondered what had happened to make Duke leave this place, swap the wide-open skies and mountain ranges for the smog-filled city full of assholes.
“Yeah, I did.” There was a slight change in Duke’s voice, something I might’ve tried to dissect had I not been creating a past for him.
Maybe it was a woman. A beautiful, fresh-faced Montana girl with long thick hair and warm eyes. Maybe she broke his heart and he’d never gotten over her. I instantly hated the girl I’d made up in my mind, coveted what she’d had that I’d never experienced.
The driveway was long and winding, showing off the beautiful ranch. I almost didn’t want the ride to end, but the assault it was giving my emotions needed to stop. It was distracting me from being so goddamn nervous at the prospect of facing Duke’s family as an unwelcome stranger.
The homestead was nothing less than extraordinary.