Impulsion (Station 32 #1)(31)

***

Wyatt and Easton had graduated that morning; the rig with their living quarters was packed. The bulls were loaded on another trailer that Wyatt’s uncle Duke would pull. Wyatt’s cousin Brant was pulling another trailer with his camper. It was an entourage, an escape that Wyatt could not believe was offered to him. He was given the freedom and means to escape to places that there was no chance Harley’s memory could touch. His best friend was at his side, and he had a chance to make real money, a chance to get his degree in business, his mother’s only demand regarding this adventure.

It was one that he would grant. He’d already picked up summer classes just to prove to her that at the very least, he would bring that degree home to her.

“I’m going to have to bleach this entire apartment when I get back,” Wyatt said under his breath as he watched Dorcas move her things into his apartment.

His kid sister, who was looking less like a kid every day, smiled up at him. “Just make sure you come back in one piece.”

She was the one that had asked her mom if Dorcas could stay in the apartment. Apparently, Dorcas’ parents were going through a divorce, and it was hard at home. Camille’s agreement was that Dorcas worked off her board. She was also told that no matter when it happened, if Wyatt chose to come home she had to leave the apartment so he and Easton could move in again.

Wyatt pulled Ava to him, gave her a deep hug. “Stay out of trouble. Away from *s. Anyone gives you hell, you tell Truman. He’ll have your back.”

Ava’s eyes started to water, but she nodded. Wyatt picked up his bags and made his way down the stairs, hoping his mother would be there to see them off. He could tell this was not her idea, that she was worried. Anytime anything bothered her, she kept her distance, and she had done just that recently.

She never even acknowledged what he had seen when he went to find Harley. He wanted her to, he wanted her to tell him that he saw it wrong, to explain a woman’s mind to him somehow, but she didn’t. Which all but destroyed any hope Wyatt might have had that his anger had stripped from him something obvious that he should be seeing. This wild adventure before him was his only hope to get his life back on track.





Chapter Eight



Harley didn’t think it was possible for her body to cry another tear, not after that first month away from Wyatt. Not after waking up every single night from a vivid dream of him, the kind where she could smell the leather, the earth, the mix of spices, where she could hear his voice, hear him tell her, “You’re safe.”

Her father didn’t speak a word to her for weeks after she left Willowhaven. Her mother did—from the moment Harley boarded the plane home to New York, her mother began to recite her ultimate threat, the threat that said that if Harley dared to speak to Wyatt or any Doran again, she would not only ensure that every horseman with any class saw them as worthless trash, but also sue them for everything and anything under the sun, with the sole purpose of bankrupting them. She even swore to Harley that if she pushed hard enough, she would find a way to prosecute Wyatt for something.

Harley was sure her father had heard some, if not all, of that threat, and he never bothered to rebut it. The first word he said to her was ‘Hi,’ in a raspy tone, and that was in the ICU; he’d had a heart attack. Harley blamed herself for it, thought the stress of what she’d put him through caused it. Her mother was sure to back up that point with every glare, every sly comment.

Months later, he still wasn’t well enough to travel. Harley tried to use that as an excuse not to have her birthday celebration states away, but he had told her that she deserved the party her mother had planned for her, even if it was wrapped around some political charity event.

Harley masked a trained smile, played the part her mother wanted her to, knowing the threat of how brutally she could destroy the life of the only people that made her feel normal was still in the air, that the risk of her father enduring any ounce of stress could be fatal.

Her mother had placed her with a cunning chaperone, an advanced business law student named Collin Grant. If Harley had a friend her age in this world, it was him. Collin saw the scam, the stage their mothers stood on, the one they wanted them to stand on.

In public, he played his part to perfection. He looked like he was born for that life, but the thing was that it was a joke to him, literally. Anytime he had been Harley’s escort in the past, as they walked in any room, under his breath he sounded like a radio announcer calling the plays, making fun of the skeletons in everyone’s closet that they all thought were secret, what plastic surgeries they had, who they were sleeping with, who was really broke, you name it. His banter would always bring forth a natural smile to Harley, make her relax a little, help her get through whatever her mother was forcing her to attend.

Collin and Harley’s fathers were old friends, so in a way they had grown up side-by-side, even had a few vacations together. There was nothing between them but friendship.

When she laid eyes on Wyatt, when she saw him move across the lobby, every tense muscle in her body relaxed and managed to swim with adrenaline at the same time. She felt herself breathe, the nightmare of the last few months fading. She would have sworn under oath she felt the Earth move.

She was frozen in place, registering the events seconds after they happened. Harley barely caught the brush off comment her mother gave to Collin about how Harley had met more than a few people at all of her charity events, how it was dangerous to care so much but her Harley was a brave one.