“Brandt.”

No response.

She said it louder. “Brandt.”

Still no response.

Jessie moved closer. “Brandt. Stop. You’re hurting yourself.”

Without missing a punch, he said, “Go away. You don’t want to be around me right now.”

Left punch, right punch, left jab, right jab. She stood there long enough to memorize the pattern. Her gut tightened into a knot when she noticed the skin peeling back from his knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere. Talk to me.”

He grunted and nailed the heavy bag harder. “Get the f**k out of here, Jessie. Now.”

“Why should I leave?”

“Because I’m pissed off.”

“You think I haven’t dealt with a pissed off man before?”

“Not like me. Never when I’m like this.”

“So? I can handle—”

“I’m not Landon, throwing a little boy tantrum.”

“You sure?” she shot back.

“Don’t f**kin’ push me.”

“Don’t f**kin’ shut me out.”

Brandt made a roaring noise and started whacking his forearms into the bag. Left, right, left, right each blow harder than the last. His need to grit his teeth to deal with the new pain he was imposing upon himself was the last straw.

Jessie lost it. Angry tears, frustrated tears, scared tears all poured out at once and she screamed at him, pulling the canvas bag away from him. “Goddammit Brandt, stop! Stop it! You’re hurting yourself. You’re hurting yourself and it’s killing me. My God. Please. Just stop.”

The flying arms slowed, then stopped. Brandt leaned forward, chest heaving with every ragged breath, his body shaking as he rested his forehead to the heavy bag and wrapped his arms around it to keep himself upright.

She stumbled behind him, pressing her face into his sweaty back, molding her body to his. Holding him as he vibrated with rage, holding him as he bled, trying to hold them both together.

Brandt’s voice was a whisper of pain. “I hate him. I f**king hate him. I never…” His voice broke and once again they were locked in hellish silence. “I never wanted you to see me like this.”

Jessie understood him not wanting to show weakness to others, but she thought they’d gone beyond that. “So why did you come here, Brandt? To my house?”

Another long silence. Then his soft, “Because I had no place else to go.”

Angry tears formed and she released him. “So I’m a last resort now?”

He whirled around so fast he bumped into her, knocking her off balance and sideways. In super slow-mo she crashed into the wooden slats, hissing as a splinter sliced her cheek, gasping as she twisted her body to land on her hands and knees, sucking in a harsh breath as gravel and hay dug into her palms and her knees skidded out from underneath her.

Then Brandt was roughly hauling her upright. His grip on her biceps hurt, but she sucked up the pain.

The little sting was nothing compared to the damage he’d exacted on himself. She looked at him.

The agony in his eyes stole her breath. “Oh God, look at you. You’re bleeding. I did that. I hurt you.”

“I’m okay.”

Brandt recoiled in horror. “I have to go.”

“Go where? Brandt, you don’t even have a shirt on—”

He stumbled back, turned and walked out.

Don’t let him go. Not like this.

Jessie snatched up his clothes and chased him down, planting herself right in front of him. “At least put your goddamn clothes on if you’re leaving me.”

He ducked his head and grabbed the bundle. But he didn’t deny he was leaving her.

“Talk to me. I deserve that much.”

“You deserve much better than a man who lashes out in anger and hurts you.”

“You didn’t do it on purpose.”

“But it still happened. It can happen again.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. Tell me what the hell happened with your dad today.”

Wincing, he yanked his shirt on, then his coat. He finally looked at her. “I need some time.”

Oh God. She went dizzy. Her legs, her world threatened to go out from under her. Gritting her teeth, she locked her knees to keep them from buckling. “Time for what?”

“Time to think.” He gently moved her aside from blocking the driver’s side door. “Go inside before you freeze to death.”

But she couldn’t seem to make her feet move. She watched him drive away.

She stood there until the wind picked up and snow swirled around her. Until Lexie’s barks roused her and she trudged inside, absolutely numb.

Her entire body shook. She stripped down and stayed under the shower spray until she drained the water heater of every drop of hot water. She dressed in her warmest flannel pajamas before she started a pot of coffee. But she couldn’t get warm. She put a healthy dollop of whiskey in it before she dialed.

He picked up on the second ring. “Jessie? What the hell is goin’ on? I’ve called you like a dozen times. Have you seen Brandt?”

“He left.”

A pause, then, “He left?”

“Yeah. After he beat the shit out of my heavy bag and himself—”

“Goddammit, did he hurt you?” Tell demanded.

“Intentionally? No. But he thinks he did.”

“What the f**k did he say to you?”

“Nothing. I have no idea what’s going on. He said he needed some time and he took off.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes. So maybe you oughta tell me what happened today.”

Seemed a full hour passed before Tell spoke. “Some of this I heard from Mom, some of this I saw firsthand. Brandt told Dad you two were getting married. Dad, bein’ Dad, spewed bullshit. Told Brandt he’d have to choose between you and his portion of the McKay ranch, because he couldn’t have both.”

Her Irish coffee threatened to come back up.

“Then Brandt threw Dad against the wall and that’s when me’n Dalton came in. After that, Brandt left.”

“So you don’t know if he’s decided—”

“Don’t say it, Jessie, don’t even f**king think it. Brandt loves you. He always has.”

She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. “But he loves that ranch too. That’s all he’s known.

That’s all he’s ever wanted was to take over running it.”

“And you think our Dad don’t know that?”




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