"I'm not running away." I slam the gear bag closed and hoist it over my shoulder. "I'm giving everyone some space to figure this out."
"Bull—."
I shoulder past her toward the stairs and cutting off her curses, but she follows.
"Where are you even going?"
"Utah. Phoenix. Somewhere there's bulls to ride." I keep walking.
"Oh, so you're going to get yourself stomped to death instead of dealing with your problems. Real mature, Wyatt."
I stop at the kitchen doorway. Dad's reading glasses sit folded next to a stack of papers I don't want to think about.
"Tell them I'll be back in a week or two."
"Tell them yourself."
"Can't." The admission tastes like acid. "Just... tell 'em."
Kit follows me out to the truck, still running her mouth about stuff she doesn't understand and coughing in between. “Get back in the house before you catch your death.”
“Already caught it.” She coughs again. “Don’t be stupid.”
“Too late.” They didn't see Kinsley standing there in that unforgettable blue dress with tears running down her face, telling me to marry someone else.
They didn't watch the strongest woman they know fall apart and still put everyone else first.
I throw my bag in the truck bed and climb behind the wheel. The engine turns over with a growl that sounds like freedom, or maybe just running away. Kit's probably right about that.
"Don't get yourself killed, you idiot," she yells through the passenger window.
I don't answer. Can't trust my voice not to crack.
The truck lurches forward, gravel spraying behind the tires as I gun it down the drive. In the rearview mirror, Kit stands in the dust cloud, hands on her hips looking a lot like Mom.
Grandpa's riding fence in the south pasture, sitting easy in the saddle. He looks up when I tear past, shakes his head slow and disappointed. Probably thinking about what Dad's going to say when he finds out I took off without a word.
Whatever. They'll figure it out.
The ranch disappears behind me, swallowedup by dust and distance. I hit the county road doing sixty and keep accelerating, like I can outrun the mess I'm leaving behind.
But even with the windows down and the radio up, I can't get her voice out of my head. The way she said "goodbye" like it was the hardest word she'd ever spoken. The way she turned her back on me and waved that kitchen towel at my family's cattle like they were the enemy instead of just dumb animals doing what comes naturally.
My phone buzzes on the seat beside me and my heart jumps like a spooked horse. Maybe she changed her mind.
Jake's name shows up on the screen, and I want to throw the thing out the window. "What?"
"Well, good morning to you too, sunshine," Jake's voice crackles through the speaker.
"Not in the mood."
"Rough night? I figured you and Kinsley would be all twitterpated and lovey-dovey because your big plan worked out."
"Well, it didn't." I take the curve toward town too fast, tires squealing on asphalt. "It went south in the worst possible way."
"What happened?"
Where do I even start? With Senator Martinez showing up like some kind of mob boss? With Brittney claiming I knocked her up during a night I can't remember? With me punching a United States Senator in the face?