Page 85 of Branded

“Yeah.” I nod, but don’t feel like elaborating, and thankfully he doesn’t push.

“Listen, Lennox, I’m going to tell you the same thing I told your brothers. We use force when needed, to protect ourselves, it’s not something we do often or enjoy but if it’s between you or them, it better be them laying in the dirt.” A tear rolls down my cheek, and I wipe at my nose with my sleeve before Dad hands me a tissue.

“You have to live with it, Lenny-Lou, but I sure as hell am happy you knew what you were doing and are sitting here in front of me now.” He clenches his jaw, and I think I see his eyes glisten just a little before he blinks quickly.

“Thanks, Dad,” I say as I stand and wrap my arms around him.

“Enough, enough, go get settled in,” he says gruffly, and I can’t help but chuckle.

When I leave the room, I find Janie lingering by the door. “Janie,” I say quietly. “Can you help me unpack?”

Relief floods her face. “Yes. Of course.”

We go upstairs to my old room, same quilted bedspread, same photos on the walls, same view of the mountains through the window. It feels like stepping back in time, before California, before the auction, before Sebastian. Before everything changed.

Janie closes the door behind us and immediately bursts into tears.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobs. “This is all my fault. If I hadn’t gotten involved with Tim, if I hadn’t signed those papers, you wouldn’t have had to, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Janie, stop.” I pull her into a hug. “This isn’t your fault. You didn’t know what you were signing. And I made the choice to take your place.”

“But you’re married to him now. You’re stuck for two years because of me.”

“I’m handling it.” I pause, searching for words that won’t be a complete lie. “It’s complicated. But I’m good.” God, I’m getting tired of the word complicated.

“Are you?” She pulls back, wiping her eyes. “Because you don’t look good, Lennox. You look like you’re barely holding it together.”

“I’m tired. It’s been an intense month.” I sit on the bed, the familiar comfort of my old room settling over me. “What did you tell my family?”

“Nothing. Just that I’d gotten into some trouble and you helped me out of it. Your dad asked a million questions, but I kept saying I couldn’t talk about it, that it’s your story to tell.” She sits beside me. “Is that okay?”

“That’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Your dad’s going to keep asking.”

“I know. I’ll handle him.” I look at her. “How are you doing? Really?”

“Scared. Confused. Grateful to be home but terrified someone’s going to figure out what really happened.” She twists her hands in her lap. “Your family has been so kind to me. They let me stay here, they made sure I was okay. I moved into the apartment with Grace a while ago. It’s been fun having my own space again.”

“I’m glad you’re doing good. Any backlash from your family?” We sit on my bed and I’m immediately taken back to that small apartment we shared where we laughed, talked and made plans.

“Randall tried once, but Grace scared him off.”

“Of course she did.” I laugh.

“Len, is he, is Sebastian all, umm…” She can’t finish the question.

“He’s intense, demanding and would have crushed you the first night.” I stand and move to the window. I shouldn’t have said that, but she needs to know that she wouldn’t have survived Sebastian Drake. “I have four more days here, then I have to go back. I want to make the most of them.”

“Do you want to go back?”

The question hangs in the air. Do I? Part of me wants to stay here forever, safe in my childhood home, surrounded by family who love me unconditionally. But another part—a part I don’t want to examine too closely—is already thinking about Texas. About the ranch house with its stone walls and view of the cattle. About Sebastian trying to be different.

“I don’t know,” I finally admit. “Ask me again in four days.”

* * *

Dinner that night is both comfortable and tense. We sit around the big dining table, the same table where we had every family meal for as long as I can remember, and for a while, it feels normal.