23. Cassidy

"What the fuck was all that?" I hand Denny a bar towel wrapped around ice for his busted lip. Most of the bar emptied immediately after the massive fight was broken up. Partially because it was almost closing time, but mostly because they didn't want to feel inclined to help clean up.

Thankfully, the rest of the ranch hands from Wells Ranch are sweeping up broken glass, mopping spilled beer, and righting tipped tables. I've witnessed my fair share of bar fights, but tonight there's an anxious hum under my skin and my hands haven't quit shaking since I watched Chase's fist make contact with Landon's face.

"How am I supposed to know? They were about to be five on one, so we had to jump in for Red." Denny dabs the cold cloth on his face. "All I know is some greaseball clubbed me right in the moneymaker with a beer bottle."

"They must've said something, right? Do you think he punched Landon in the face for the hell of it?"

He wouldn't, right?

It's scary not immediately knowing the answer. For all the bar fights he's been in while I've worked here, I've been too removed from the situation to know or care what started it. My primary concerns were whether tabs were still getting paid and the offenders were kicked out. Too often, that meant kicking out Red… Chase… Red…

Even if he had a legitimate reason tonight. What about all those other fights? I convinced myself that wasn't who he was. That he's Chase—not Red.

He's both.

He's always been both. And I think I've been falling in love with Chase… but I'm not sure about Red.

Before Denny can answer, the double doors behind me swing open, and I turn to see Chase walk out. He stalks toward the front doors without bothering to look around at the damage, his friends, or me. His eyes are firmly fastened to the ground as he blows by.

"Chase," I say, leaning to try and catch his arm over the bar top. I'm sure he hears me, but his gait doesn't slow as he storms out to the parking lot, letting a cold blast of winter air chill me to the bone. For the first time since the fight broke out, I notice a sad, twangy country song blaring through the speakers. Seems fitting, honestly.

Without a word, I brush past Denny and out the front doors. The hair on my arms stands at attention, and I wrap them around my stomach, desperately trying to conserve body heat. Leaning against a tailgate, Chase's head hangs low; one hand keeping a tight grip on the cowboy hat held at his side, while the heel of the other digs into his forehead. When he hears the crunch of my sneakers on the crusty snow, his eyelids snap open.

"The fuck was that?" I'm shivering but no longer cold. Instead, my blood's boiling as it rages through my blood vessels. I charge across the white ground until I'm no more than two feet from him. His hands drop to his sides and he looks up at me.

"I can't fucking believe you would come here tonight and do that. After all the shit I've been through trying to convince my dad you aren't a total piece of shit, you show up and act like a total piece of shit."

"I didn't mean for this to happen."

"So tell me you had a good reason for punching him. Tell me your actions were justified and I shouldn't be mad at you."

He shrugs. Fucking shrugs.

"Great. Great." I stare off at a lonely street lamp in the distance to discourage the angry tears welling in my eyes. Snow flutters past the warm glow before settling on the empty street. "I told you we needed boundaries and I wish you could've respected me enough not to come here. Especially when you showed up only to act like that. What the hell happened? How can you go from being so sweet and helpful to beating the shit out of somebody? Like… shit. If Landon doesn't press charges, I'll be amazed because he was fucked up when he left."

My jaw clenches, and I watch the muscles in his throat repeatedly work to swallow while he looks anywhere but at me.

"It fucking sucked when it felt like I didn't know who you were a few minutes ago. Sure, I've seen you get into fights, but it feels different now. You feel different to me now. I don't like this and I didn't like you back there."

"Cass." He breathes out my name, and there's no stopping my tears now. I tug the sleeve of my shirt over my fingers and press the thin, soft fabric to the inner corner of each eye.

"I don't know what the hell you want me to say," he says quietly. If it weren't eerily still in this empty, frozen parking lot, I wouldn't have even realized he was speaking.

"I want you to tell me if I've been wrong in thinking you're a good guy. Thinking you aren't the kind who goes around punching people for no good reason, and then just fucking walks right past me like I don't matter. If that's who you are, we're done here. So tell me that's not who you are."

"Yeah… it's who I am. Don't pretend like you didn't know that already. You know me. Nothing has changed."

"I thought—"

"You thought wrong. I'm the same piece of shit I've always been."

Fighting back tears, I turn toward the front doors. "Go home, Red."

Once I'm finished rage-cleaning the bar, I poke my head into Dad's office. "All cleaned up out there. I'm gonna head out."

"Come sit."

Shit.Apparently, I should've left without saying anything to him. I'm exhausted, ready to go cry in my bed over Chase, and the last thing I want is a lecture. Yet I sink down into the chair; the quicker he gets this out of his system, the quicker I can go home.

"Cassie, I really don't like this." He massages his temples.

"Yep, I know you don't."

"He started a bar fight for no good reason tonight. That's the kind of guy you want in your life? I thought I raised you better—did a good job of showing you how men should act."

"You did. Honestly, you set a great example, Dad. I'm not saying he'll be anywhere near as good of a dad as you are, but I want my baby to have both parents around. He's a different person outside of this bar, and I wish you could see that side of him."

"Doesn't it concern you that he has sides?" Dad raises an eyebrow, pinning me with a stare as I meagerly shrug. "So when he's here, he punches people for no good reason, but I'm supposed to trust when you say he's capable of treating you with respect elsewhere? You could've gotten hurt tonight when the fight he started turned into a brawl. You think he would've even cared? Or noticed? Seemed like you were the last thing on his mind when you should've been the first."

"I'm not saying what happened tonight was okay. And I don't know how I'm going to handle this, but the last thing I need right now is to fight with you, too."

Dad's jaw tenses. "Did you fight with him? What did he say to you?"

"Nothing. That's the fucking problem." I rub my teary, exhausted eyes. "I tried to get him to tell me what happened. Maybe it's my fault—I'm the one who wanted boundaries. To keep it a strictly professional co-parenting relationship."

"And he doesn't like that."

No, he doesn't like it. But that's because he asked me to date him and I bluntly turned him down. And before the fight, I spent all evening kicking myself for it.

"He's not the terrible guy you make him out to be, Dad. I don't think he always makes the right decisions in the heat of the moment. But… clearly, neither do I." I glance down at my protruding stomach. "When we're together, he's completely different. Chase does anything I ask, and usually I don't even need to ask—he's already taking care of it for me. He's really good to me, Dad. Too good. Like maybe somebody I might even love, which scares the hell out of me. That's why I told him we needed boundaries. I was scared about what might happen if a relationship with him imploded. Which… I guess it kind of did tonight."

I rest a hand on my anxiously bouncing knee and let a free fall of tears run in rivulets down my cheeks. Falling from my chin, they leave wet patches on the dark-green shirt barely containing my stomach. After a minute or so, I sniffle and look up at him through the tear-induced haze, expecting him to continue the lecture.

"I know I can't tell you what to do. But you need to decide if this is the situation you want to be in. I have a gut feeling this won't be the last time he has you crying in my bar if you try to make any kind of relationship work with him."

"Maybe you're right. But… I have a gut feeling something else was going on when he punched Landon. The guy is a total loser, for one. And then the stuff between us… I don't know. I need to think."

He nods slowly. "Good. Think about all of it, Cassie. Remember, you're making decisions for your child now, too."

"Oh, I know. This shit wouldn't be so complicated if I wasn't thinking about her."