5. Maddox

Stepping off the jet, I felt like I was walking to my execution. The tiny flicker of excitement I'd let myself feel at the prospect of seeing Ryan again had long since been extinguished by reality. Even if she was happy to see me and I did happen to run into her, based on her last Instagram post, she'd long since moved on from her teenage crush on me.

I walked across the hot concrete, cracked and warped under the unrelenting Texas sun, and slid into the waiting Tahoe with blacked-out windows. The truck probably drew more attention than I wanted, but I'd need whiskey to get me through this day, and I wasn't in the habit of driving drunk.

As soon as the door closed me inside, the driver started the hour-long trek to Everleigh Ranch, the last place on Earth I ever thought I'd step foot back on. I pulled out my flask, lifted it to my lips, and took a big swig, the burn making its way down into my stomach. I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the cool leather seat.

I needed to brace myself for what I was walking into. I hadn't seen or spoken to my old man in twelve years, but I could only imagine he'd gotten worse in time, not better. Beating on me because I hadn't earned any money that he could take to fuel his drinking or gambling habits when I was only ten years old had been my breaking point. I'd finally snapped and decided I would do anything to get out of here as soon as possible.

When I left, I vowed I'd never look back. And I'd tried damn hard not to. But as the dirt kicked up around the truck and we flew down the familiar road that never quite felt like home, I rolled my shoulders. I tried to clamp down on all the memories wanting to break free of the cage in my mind where they lived. No matter what happened today, I wouldn't let this place, my dad, or the girl next door, drag me back.

I'd worked too damn hard for too damn long to end up right back where I started, in the dark hole I'd worked to claw my way out of. If I had any luck at all on my side, I wouldn't have to face my dad at all. I was only here a day, and when I was a kid, he'd disappear for days at a time on drunken benders or gambling binges. I internally crossed my fingers that he'd stay away today, and I could clean up his mess and go home before anyone knew I was here.

If he was there, I had no idea what I'd do. I wouldn't be surprised if I laid hands on him, to return the abuse he heaped on me for years. Every punch, slap, belt lashing, broken bone, bruise, and mark on my body that he'd caused, I itched to return tenfold.

It would take every ounce of self-control I had to keep my temper in check. As we pulled up, I glanced around and didn't see his truck. The small house was in worse condition than when I'd left, the paint chipped and the roof with missing shingles. There were no warm and fuzzy feelings of nostalgia looking at this place. No, my stomach was filled with lead.

My phone vibrating pulled me out of my thoughts, and I glanced down at the screen, a small smile breaking out across my face. It was yet another picture of my niece, True's daughter, Phoenix. That kid was so damn cute, and she had all of us wrapped around her finger, even if it was annoying to get twenty-five text messages every day about her.

Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. Every muscle in my body tensed, not even remotely prepared to deal with my dad. But I breathed out a deep sigh when I saw it was just Joel who'd come onto the sagging front porch to greet me.

Throwing open the door, I slid out of the car, the Texas heat assaulting my body immediately. I forgot how fucking hot Texas was in the summer. I lived in LA, I was used to warm weather, but this shit was unbearable, like the goddamn seventh circle of hell. Sweat instantly beaded on my forehead, and I regretted my decision to dress in my usual all black. At least it was only one day.

Joel dipped his head, tipping his hat at me. He'd worked for my dad for years, but I'd only ever talked to him on the phone. When I was a kid, I'd been the one to do the hard labor around the ranch. My old man never had the money to pay for help, so it all fell to me. At least until I ran away and he didn't have a goddamn choice in the matter.

"Hey, Joel, right? I'm Maddox." I stretched out my hand to him, his rough, tan palm gripped mine firmly before letting go. He wore a sympathetic expression on his face, and a chill ran over my body despite the scorching heat.

"Good to meet you, son. Sorry it wasn't under better circumstances."

I looked past him at the front door, then shifted my eyes back. "Is he home?" I wondered, dreading the answer.

Joel shook his head. "Nah, hasn't been here for a few days, best I can tell."

I swore a fifty-pound weight lifted off of my shoulders as I exhaled. Maybe Russell wouldn't be back today. Maybe I wouldn't have to see anyone and could get the fuck out of here relatively unscathed.

I moved around the porch, bending down and reaching under the withered potted plant sitting next to the door to find the spare key. Gripping the warm metal in my palm, I opened the door, and as it swung open, a wall of stale air and old beer hit me in the face. Joel wordlessly followed me inside, wincing at the smell and the heat.

The old air conditioner sat in the window unused, if it even worked anymore. I found the light switch and flipped it up, but nothing happened. "Guess the power's out," I muttered.

Joel shrugged. "I doubt Russell's paid the bill."

"Let's talk on the porch," I suggested, moving back outside. I couldn't be in that house until I got the power back on.

When we'd crossed over the threshold, I sucked in a big breath of fresh air. Now that I could breathe again, I needed to figure out how to fix shit as fast as I could so I could leave in the morning. Joel leaned against the wooden post holding up the roof, his arms folded across his chest, waiting for me to speak. He seemed like he was a man of few words, and I appreciated that.

"I'll get the electricity on, but I need to know what's been happening around here so I can straighten shit out. This place looks worse than it did when I was a kid," I observed, looking around at the unkempt fields of grass beside the house.

Joel uncrossed his arms and lifted his hat, swiping a hand through his matted hair. "It's been bad for a long time. Russell has no business running a ranch. He can't take care of himself, and he sure as hell can't be trusted to take care of his animals," Joel seethed. I could see this shit really got to him. It warmed my cold, unfeeling heart just a little that he cared about the animals enough to go over my dad's head and call me in. I might have to make some bigger changes around here than I was initially planning.

The gears in my mind started whirring, frantically trying to rearrange the original plans I'd made. A small smile tugged at my lips as I considered taking this entire day in a new direction. The only downside was I'd have to stay longer than the one day I'd first committed to. But, if things worked out like I thought they might, it'd be worth it.

I'd finally show my old man what a fucking useless waste of space he was and get him out of my life for good.

Rubbing my temples, I tried to stave off the throbbing in my skull. I was not made for staring at endless pages of spreadsheets. Fuck. I'd been lucky that Joel had maintained at least some semblance of financial records for this place since my old man hadn't done shit.

He'd done worse than shit. He ran this place so far into the red he'd never be able to dig himself out of it. But that's what I'd been counting on. The sun had sunk low in the sky, and so far, I'd been lucky. Russell hadn't shown his face. But just as the thought slipped into my mind, footsteps echoed on the front porch. My whole body tensed up, a habit left over from my childhood that I hadn't outgrown even a dozen years later.

The chair scraped across the scratched up wooden floorboards as I stood, my fists clenched, and I prepared myself for a fight. But as I caught a flash of wavy brown hair blowing on the breeze, I realized it'd be a different kind of struggle I'd be facing right now. One that involved my heart and that I was even less prepared to deal with.

I watched as she lifted her hand and knocked on the screen door, balancing a plate on her other hand and tucking her wind- mussed hair behind her ear. I took a step forward, the floor creaking under my boot.

Our eyes locked through the screen door, and the air crackled between us. I hadn't expected Ryan to come over at all, let alone the same afternoon I showed up. It made me wonder if she'd been waiting and watching for signs of my return. I didn't dare let myself hope. I couldn't. Nothing had changed, I still didn't deserve her.

I threw up my mask of indifference and shut off my emotions. Over the years, I'd gotten good at hiding how I felt, and I'd need those skills now more than ever. No matter what, I would protect her from me. I allowed my eyes to scan over her dark wavy hair, striking brown eyes, and cheeks dotted with constellations of freckles. I'd come across thousands of beautiful women in my life and not one of them compared to Ryan.

A memory tried to push its way to the surface, one filled with clumsy kisses, unsure lips brushing against each other, and soft, freckled skin smooth under my palm. I shut that shit down, though. It was as if being closer to her made the memory of our first and only kiss bubble up out of the depths of my mind. I couldn't deal with that shit.

I turned the handle, opening the screen door, and she moved aside so I could step out onto the porch. No fucking way was I inviting her into the house. There were so many reasons that was a bad idea, I couldn't even list them all.

"You're really back," she marveled, her voice breathless and wispy as if she thought she was in a dream, and if she spoke too loud, she might wake herself up. Fuck, the way she looked up at me with wonder and longing in her eyes instead of hate and resentment like I deserved meant trouble. I couldn't afford to let my walls down when it came to Ryan. It was torture to rip myself away from her all those years ago, misery to keep myself away, and I'd done it all for her.

I could endure anything if it meant she'd be happy.

"So glad you noticed," I drawled as if I was bored, letting my eyes wander up and down her body with a cold smirk plastered on my face. I built myself quite a reputation, one that was well-deserved. I hoped she didn't see through my act here. I needed her to assume the worst of me like everyone else did. Ryan was anything but another conquest, but I needed her to think that's all I saw.

She shifted awkwardly before seeming to remember she held a plate full of food in her hand, which she thrust in my direction. "Here, I made your favorite," she tried again, her tone light but tinged with more uncertainty than a few minutes ago.

My heart swelled as I looked down at the plate of chocolate chip oatmeal cookies. She used to make these for me when we were kids, and I'd had a particularly shitty day of my dad beating the everloving fuck out of me. She, and the cookies, were the only bright spots in my otherwise fucked up childhood.

I took the plate, swallowing hard. My mouth watered, but I kept the cocky grin locked on my face and my eyes as devoid of emotion as I could. "I can't eat this shit. How do you think I maintain this body?" I asked, rubbing my hand down my chest and abs and watching as her eyes sparked with heat and followed my fingers' path before snapping back up. "See something you like, baby?" I taunted, hating myself for the way I was acting, but I had to do it.

She huffed. "Don't flatter yourself."

I handed her back the plate. "Thanks for stopping by, but I've got a lot of work to do." I left no room for argument, and her mouth fell slightly open as she absently took the plate back. I turned and opened the screen door, not waiting for her to leave the porch before letting it slam behind me. Everything in me wanted to turn around, but I knew I wouldn't be able to handle seeing the hurt look in her eye at what a colossal asshole I just was to her.

I long since thought my heart was cold and dead, incapable of feeling anything other than indifference and anger. But I'd been wrong because Ryan just climbed her way back inside and cracked it wide open again.