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I don’t know whether my friends will forgive me or whether my mother will ever trust me not to leave again.

I only know I’m done running.

This time, I’m going home.

27

GRACIE

The first time Bo Jackson puts his hand on me, I step away and pretend it was an accident.

The second time, I warn him.

The third time, I slap him hard enough to turn his head.

The dining room goes silent.

My palm stings, but it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the place on my backside where his fingers squeezed me.

Bo slowly turns to face me.

The smile he wore a moment ago is gone.

“What did you just do?”

I tighten my grip on the empty tray in my other hand. Every instinct I possess tells me to back away, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction.

“You grabbed me.”

“I was trying to get your attention.”

“You don’t get someone’s attention by squeezing her ass.”

A few men at Bo’s table glance at one another. No one speaks. They aren’t going to defend me. Half the people in this restaurant are terrified of him, and the other half owe him something.

Bo Jackson has been the mayor of Pine Ridge for nine years. Before that, he was a county commissioner. His son Joe is the district attorney.

Between the two of them, they believe they own everyone and everything in this part of Colorado.

Including me.

“You embarrassed me in front of my friends,” Bo says.

“You embarrassed yourself.”

Someone near the kitchen gasps.

Tonya shakes her head frantically, warning me to stop.

I should listen to her.

I should walk away, call the sheriff, and hope someone finally stands up to Bo Jackson.

But I’ve been walking away from this man for years.

I walked away when he offered to buy my family’s ranch for half its value.

I walked away when he showed up at my parents’ funeral and told me maintaining the property would be too difficult for a woman alone.