Down Home Cowboy. Maisey Yates

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      “Great,” Cain said. “Text me.”

      His brother nodded, then went upstairs, Cain assumed, to collect a shirt and his fiancée.

      Outside, Cain waited impatiently for his brothers to climb in the truck, then started the engine and tore off down the driveway without any real sense of direction. “There was a barn that we used to party at,” Liam said. “On somebody’s property. But they didn’t use it anymore. We can always look there.”

      “She doesn’t know anybody,” Cain said. “Nobody except for her boss.”

      Alison. He had to call Alison.

      He didn’t have her number. Great. He just had the bakery number. He didn’t know enough about his daughter. That was the refrain that played over and over in his mind while he drove down to town.

      He dialed the bakery, let it ring. All he got was the machine.

      “Text Finn and ask for Alison Davis’s cell number.” He barked the order at Liam.

      Liam complied and about thirty seconds later, Cain dialed the mobile number and got a voice mail. Which wasn’t that surprising, considering she probably had to get up about as early in the morning as he did.

      He bit back a curse and left a brief message all while driving down the main street scanning every building—for what, he didn’t know.

      “Just keep driving,” Liam said. “Trust me. I’m pretty sure we can figure out where everybody congregates these days.”

      “You really think nothing has changed since you were here getting drunk and banging local girls?” As soon as he said that, he cringed. Because his daughter could very well be getting drunk. And at this point, she was a local girl.

      “I think kids are kids, and unless that old barn has been knocked down, it probably serves just as well as a party place as it did back in the day.”

      He dialed Alison again. “Alison, this is Cain. I’m looking for Violet. She sneaked out tonight. I don’t know who any of her friends are, I don’t know who she talks to. So if you’ve seen anybody coming in and talking with her, I would appreciate information. Thanks.”

      He left his phone number and threw the phone down onto the seat, cursing as he continued to drive. He followed Liam’s instructions, but wasn’t exactly aware of doing so. When they turned onto a dirt road, and he saw the old barn up ahead, light visible through the cracks in the boards, he knew that his brother had been right.

      “How do you know these things I don’t?” he muttered as he pulled up to the barn.

      “I just know what the troubled kids get up to.”

      Great. That meant his daughter was a troubled kid. Just perfect.

      He cut off the truck engine, pausing when his brothers climbed out after him. “I should probably go in alone, don’t you think?” Cain asked.

      “Hell no,” Alex returned. “This is what family is for.”

      Liam smiled at that, and the three of them walked up the dirt driveway to the barn. There was music thumping out from the old wooden structure, and he could hear laughter and high-pitched squeals.

      He hoped that Violet was in there. He really did. Even though he was going to be angry, he really wanted her to be here. Because he didn’t know where else to look. Didn’t know where else to even begin. He didn’t want her to be here, but he so very desperately needed her to be.

      “This is kind of exciting,” Liam said, smiling broadly. “I’ve never been on this side of a party being broken up before.”

      “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying this,” Cain responded.

      “One of us has to.” And then Liam broke away from the group, striding to the barn and shoving the door open like he was Hawaii Fuckin’-Five-0. “All right. Break it up.” He turned back around and smiled at Cain. “Fun,” he said.

      Cain moved deeper into the barn, along with Alex. There were kids everywhere, drinking, making out, doing God knew what else. He was trying not to look too closely.

      “Are you the police, man?” Some kid with bloodshot eyes pointed that question at Liam.

      “You wish I were the police,” Liam said. “As it is, I’m just a guy looking for his niece. And I’m probably meaner than any cop you’ve ever met. Her name is Violet. Dark hair, about this tall.” Liam held his hand up just beneath his chin.

      “Look, man,” the guy said, “if you aren’t the police...”

      And Cain was officially done with this bullshit.

      He grabbed hold of the kid, turning and slamming him up against the barn wall. “Violet Donnelly. Do you know who she is? Do you know where she is?”

      “I don’t know. I don’t know a girl named Violet.” The kid looked scared now, and Cain felt satisfied by that. Because he should be. Every little bastard in here should.

      “There she is,” Alex said, pointing toward the back of the barn.

      Some of the other kids had picked up on the fact that they were busted and were starting to flee the building like rats off a sinking ship. But not Violet. Because she was half reclining on a beanbag in the back, with some jackass plastered to her face.

      Cain saw red.

      “Violet Donnelly,” he shouted from across the barn, taking long strides over to where she was and grabbing the back of the kid’s T-shirt, hauling him off his daughter. “You get your ass out to the truck,” he said, ignoring the protests of the young man whose shirt he was still holding on to.

      She blinked. “Dad?”

      And that was when he realized that she was drunk. His daughter was drunk. And this guy had been kissing her.

      “She’s been drinking,” he said, pushing the little dickhead pawing his daughter back. The kid swayed, and Cain figured he was drunk too. But that wasn’t going to stop Cain from teaching him a lesson he’d remember. “Let me tell you something, you little earthworm, if a woman’s not fully in her right mind, then you better back off. And if you have to get a woman drunk to get her into you? There’s something wrong with you in that case. And if you enjoy taking advantage of women, then you’re beyond help. Is that what you like?”

      “No,” the kid said, “no.” He was visibly shaken and Cain was more than okay with that.

      “Also, the issue here is, she is a girl. Not a woman. She’s sixteen, so I sure as hell hope you’re drinking underage in here.”

      “I just... She likes me.”

      “Well, that’s too bad for both of you, because you’re never going to see her again.” Maybe he was being unreasonable. At this point, he couldn’t tell. But he didn’t care either. All he wanted to do was light the place on fire, burn it to the ground. He wanted to leave nothing but ash and ruin in his wake.

      Reasonable was for another day. Reasonable СКАЧАТЬ