Rough, Raw and Ready(89)
Edgard snorted so loudly Trevor heard him.
“What’s happenin’ with your family?” Chassie asked.
“My dad offered me full responsibility for runnin’ the ranch. Permanently. He’ll put it in writin’ and everything.”
“But…” Chassie sputtered, “B-but you aren’t actually considering it?”
“Of course I am. It could be a great opportunity for us.” He was such a fucking liar.
One lousy day around his family and he gave into the urge to be mean to the people he loved just because he could. Just because he was confused and pissed off they weren’t telling him something, and dammit he missed them. Missed being a part of them. Missed who he was when he was with them.
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Silence. Then fierce whispers. Then a sniffle.
Jesus. Chassie wasn’t crying? “Chass? Baby, you okay?”
Edgard snatched the phone. “No, she’s not okay. Don’t do this, Trev. Please. Not to her. Not to me, and not to yourself. I’m asking you to wait before making a rash decision.”
The phone crashed again. Sounded like they were wrestling for it. In a rush, Chassie said, “I love you, Trevor. I know you think you have to figure this out on your own, but you don’t. You have us—both me and Edgard—to help you. Come home to us and we’ll talk about it.”
Two raps echoed on his door. “Trevor?” Lianna said. “We’re takin’ Dad into the hospital.”
“Chassie. I hafta go. I’ll call you later.” He hung up.
The rest of the evening was a cluster-fuck of epic proportions. By the time Trevor returned to his room, it was past midnight. Too late to call. Or was he too much of a chickenshit to call because he owed them both an apology?
Either way, he’d make that request for forgiveness in person. He’d grovel if he had to…without qualifications.
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Rough, Raw, and Ready
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chassie sat in the same place at the kitchen table an hour later when Edgard returned to the house. He snagged a beer from the fridge and straddled the chair opposite hers.
Finally she looked up. “You didn’t kill Greta, did you?”
“No. Her reprieve might be short-lived though when Trevor catches wind of it.”
Edgard took a long, slow drink and eyed the bandage on her forehead. “You should’ve told him.”
“Leave it be, Edgard.”
Edgard sighed. Not that he blamed her, but Chassie’d been extremely grouchy all day. Hadn’t helped matters hearing Trevor snap off the news he was considering his father’s offer to run the Glanzer Ranch on a permanent basis. Not that Edgard believed Trevor would follow through. It reminded Edgard that sometimes Trevor could be thoughtless and a little mean to those he loved just because he didn’t know better.
“Sorry. It’s just…” Chassie sipped her warm milk, scowling when she realized it’d gone cold. “Trev didn’t seem the same.”
“Trevor is different when he’s around them. Breaking free from his family was the best thing he ever did. I can’t imagine why he’d jump back in that cesspool when he’s created utopia here with you.”
Chassie offered a wan smile. “You’re so sweet.”
“I try.” He scrutinized her face and glanced at the clock. “You take your meds?”
“Yep.”
“You hungry? Want me to fix you some supper?”
“No. I’m tired. I really just wanna lay down.”
“Let me help you upstairs.”
“No. Stop fussin’ at me, Ed. I’ll just crash on the couch.”
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“I like fussin’ at you, so tough up.” Edgard stood. “Will you at least let me tuck you in?”
“I’d like that.” Chassie pushed to her feet and grabbed the cordless receiver. “And if it’ll make you happy, I’ll tell Trevor about the rodeo tattoo Greta’s hoof left on my forehead if he calls back.”
“Good girl.” He kissed the area around the bandage and herded her into the living room. After covering her with a blanket, he headed upstairs to shower.
Twenty minutes later, the receiver nearly dropped from Chassie’s nerveless fingers.
Her whole body had gone numb and she blinked with disbelief, all thoughts of sleep forgotten.
“Chass? Who was that on the phone? Trevor?”
“No. It was Keely McKay.”
“What’s wrong?”
The words stuck in her throat.
“Sweetheart, you’re scaring me, what’s goin’ on?”
“My cousin Cameron McKay is missing.”