He was a great friend and mentor, but he was wrong about that. While my heart didn’t feel like there was a knife protruding from it anymore, it didn’t feel whole. Not like it had that summer when I’d given in to my feelings for her.
We’d started planning a future that summer. A part of me knew it wouldn’t come to pass. She was going to college. Chances were she’d meet smarter, more sophisticated men and forget about me. But for that summer, because I loved her, and I loved the idea of a life with her, I went along with it.
But I’d been right that it was a fantasy. That reality hit me square in the face the night my father hit my mother in front of me, and I stepped in to push back. My father was always a tank of a man. At eighteen, I wasn’t quite what I would be, but I was big enough to take him. It helped that I was sober, while he was sauced up pretty good.
When I had him pinned to the ground, his lip bleeding and his eye already showing signs of a shiner, he told me he was going to call the cops. One thing about my dad, he was the world’s biggest hypocrite considering the number of shiners my mother bore through the years. He was also a man of his word. I had no doubt he’d press charges.
Deciding I wasn’t going to go to jail, and that I’d had enough, I packed a bag and headed to Sinclair’s. She’d said she loved me. She wanted a life with me. She gave me her innocence. Armed with that, I climbed up an old tree outside her bedroom and softly rapped on the window.
Her smile was as bright as the sun when she saw me. “Wyatt. What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving. You can pack your things and we can run off together.”
“Where to?” She stared at me like she thought I’d been drinking. But I was stone-cold sober.
“Anywhere you want, baby. We can live that life we planned, but we have to do it somewhere else. I can’t stay in Salvation one minute more.”
Her soft hands cradled my face. “It sounds so romantic, but I can’t run away.”
I knew then, all was lost. I should have just clambered down the tree and made my escape. But like the fucking dummy I was, I pressed on.
“I thought you loved me. You said you wanted to be together.”
“I do, but I’m going to college in a couple of weeks-”
“You can do that anywhere.”
“Wyatt, I can’t.”
Even now, ten years later, the heartache of that moment lived in my chest. Hurt, pissed, and dejected, I left. Without a last word, I got into my car and drove out of Salvation… What a fucked up name that was… And to the nearest Army recruiting office.
I nudged my horse, moving from a walk to a gallop. I closed my eyes just for a moment to feel the freedom and power that riding brought. I’d missed this too.
Not as much as I missed Sinclair. I was dying to see her and at the same time, nervous about it too. I’d cut all ties… Her, Ryder, my mother…when I left. My mother understood and forgave me. Would Ryder and Sinclair do the same? Would I have a chance to rebuild on what we’d had?
As I turned toward the barn, my life was about as fucked up as it had been then. But my mentor was right. With age comes wisdom. I had skills to fight physically but also mentally, which meant I’d take on Simon Stark. Emotional strength? I guessed that would be tested when I saw Sinclair again.
2
Sinclair
I groaned in frustration as I read yet another letter from Simon Stark in his attempt to buy up property around Salvation. He’d been sending letters to farm owners on the south east side of the town for months now. His goal was to buy up the land for less than it was worth and build a private prison. Farming communities were on the threat of extinction and as deputy mayor, I didn’t want to see Salvation a part of that.
I stood from my desk and walked out into the main office area, where Trina, the mayor’s assistant and my friend, looked up at me and frowned.
“Problem?” she asked.
I held up the letter. “Are you keeping the file on the letters from Stark Associates?”
“Another one?” she asked. “How many is that so far?”
“Half a dozen that we know about. Chances are there are more. At this rate, this prison is going to be larger than the town itself.”
Trina shook her head. “How did this happen?”
“I’m sure Stark and the governor are friends. He probably donated buckets of money to his re-election campaign.”
“What about the board of supervisors? Do you think they’ll pass it?”