Branding A Legacy (A Silver Star Ranch Novel) (5 page)

H
er face
—it’s all I saw when I wanted to die. Die, take my last breath, and escape the torture of Saint and his men. If being beaten wasn’t enough, the visions of my best friend dying in front of me were. Surviving is the last thing I’ve ever wanted and may be the worse punishment God has delivered.

My world is black as I drift in and out and remember her words about my family. Granddad’s in the hospital. My brothers actually want to see me, and all I want is death. The inevitable blackness takes over, causing all my worries, horrible memories, or fucking hatred left to haunt me to dissipate forever.

The burn of her kiss is the last thing for me to remember.

I
stand back
a bit leaning on the hallway wall listening to the doctors explain in detail Marvel’s condition, and I don’t miss the FBI agents who are also listening. The doctors’ main concerns are saving his leg and beating the flesh-eating disease.

“Thank you.” Maverik rises up to shake each doctor’s hand while Merek follows suit.

“It will be a long night with several more surgeries to come, but it looks like your brother was quite lucky.” The two doctors walk off, leaving the Slatters in shock. It’s written all over each of their faces.

An awkward silence settles in as the agents stay close to the Slatters. A new cowboy I’ve never met has joined the group.

“Clover.” Ella races up to me, automatically wrapping me up in a hug. “Are you okay?”

Finally, the touch of a friend after the most traumatizing night of my life leaves me feeling very emotional, even with the threat of tears. From finding Marvel, to being interrogated, to my uncle Saint being an asshole, and then finishing the night holding Marvel, all of it collides together letting the dark storm cloud above my head open up.

“I’m okay.” I step back, wiping the tears from my eyes, trying to keep the flood of them back.

“What happened?” Merek asks.

I follow Ella over to the couches and take a seat on the single peach ottoman.

“I decided to go home tonight to have dinner with my uncle and aunt.” I pull all my hair back, tying it up in a messy bun as I talk. “I got lost. It was so dark, but when I turned my car around I saw something in the middle of the road, and it was Marvel.”

His name rolls off my lips in a whisper, and it’s then I remember our kiss. I run my fingertips along my lips and silently pray to God he’ll make it out of this.

“Who’d you call or what did you do?” the stranger asks.

“Who are you?” My question comes off extremely rude. “I’m sorry…”

He waves me off before I have the chance to completely apologize. “I get it. It’s been an emotional night.”

“Clover, this is my best friend from high school, Sterling, and Sterling, this is Clover.”

He sends me the very polite Texas nod, tipping his cowboy hat toward me. He’s by far taller than the two Slatter men, with a lean body and dark curly hair.

I go ahead and answer his question. “I jumped from my car once I recognized Marvel’s eyes and went to him. Then called 911 after seeing how bad his wounds were. He begged me not to call.”

“Why would he do that?” Ella rubs her hands over her swollen belly as Maverik reaches down, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

“He told me to go or they’d kill me and him.”

“Did he mention names?” Maverik asks as he jumps up from the couch.

I shake my head side-to-side, feeling guilty for not questioning Marvel more, but in the moment I was stressed over his condition.

“I know who it was and I don’t know…”

Sterling places his large hand on Merek’s shoulder and shakes his head. “Not here, not now. You need to be here for your family. Let the authorities take care of it. The sheriff called in the FBI.”

“Do you want a ride home, Clover? I know you were excited to go have dinner.” Ella asks. The concern covering her face nearly causes me to crumble down in tears.

“Ha.” A roll of hysterical laughter escapes from me. I know I look like a mad idiot but can’t help it. “My uncle kicked me out since I missed dinner.”

The whole group stares at me as I try to control my laughing fit as I wipe the tears from my eyes. “I’m homeless.”

“You’re what?” Challis jumps from the couch.

I’m not sure how to go about telling them my own family kicked me out for skipping dinner tonight, and then the words of the FBI agents practically give me whiplash. They warned me not to let anyone know I’m related to Saint. My head spins out of control as I process everything.

“Clover, did you say you’re homeless?” Challis takes a step toward me.

This time I shrug as I answer her. “Yeah, my uncle got pissed I missed dinner tonight and told me my belongings would be in the driveway.”

“That’s bullshit. Let’s go get it.” Her voice is laced with anger and completely defensive in my honor.

Again I can only shrug. “It’s fine. I actually don’t think there’s anything out there of mine. It’s all in my car or the staff room here.”

“What a dick,” Challis huffs out.

“Settle down, Verde.” Merek walks up behind her, wrapping his arms low around her waist.

“You can come stay at the ranch, Clover. My old bunkhouse is empty,” Maverik says. “I’ll have it cleaned up for you.”

The kindness and absolute open welcome nearly causes me to pass out. This is definitely something I’m not used to having been raised by an ice queen. I fight to form a word but nothing comes out.

Ella places her hand on my knee. “Just say yes because they won’t give up.”

“She’s right.” Maverik nods to me.

“I don’t understand any of this if I’m being honest.” My fingers tremble as I try to clutch them together.

“Who the fuck does understand life?” Merek adds. “Hell, look where we all are now.”

“Okay.” I nod and feel sure in my answer. “Okay, but I’ll stay here tonight since I just volunteered to cover a morning shift.”

“Sounds good, sweetie.” Ella’s smile is bright. “I’ll get everything set up for you and show you the way.”

I nearly forget that Sterling was with us. He pushes off the wall and clears his throat. “You guys need to go talk to your granddad and update him.”

A somber tone overtakes the waiting room. Worry covers every face, as does a mixture of pain mingling in.

“It’s too early.” Merek takes his hat from his head and begins to scratch it.

“You have to.” Sterling’s voice is nothing to mess with. “He’ll need to be prepared in case he has to say goodbye to his youngest grandson. It’s a fact you have to face.”

Ella turns from me to face the rest of the group. “He’s right, you guys. Granddad would want to know and be involved in every step. We wouldn’t want him to find out from someone else.”

I watch as the group of Slatters begin to gather up their belongings and what should be a joyous time is not. They all look beat up and exhausted with what life has thrown at them. I prop my feet up on a stool in front of me and feel my heart sink for them with the only reassurance being the sound of Marvel’s steady heart beat when he was rushed up to the OR. He’ll have a long road with infection and possible other complications, not to mention the mental damage.

Ella turns before leaving. “I’ll come find you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” I wave and offer up a weak smile.

Sterling plops down on the couch across from me as I re-tie my hair up on my head. My fingers glide through the greasy mess. It’s embarrassing how little I tend to my own needs when focused on my job, but it’s what makes me happy.

“So, what’s your story?”

“Excuse me?” I look up at Sterling to make sure he’s talking to me.

“What’s your story?”

I tilt my head sideways trying to process the question. I’m not sure if it’s a discussion starter or what to take it as. “I don’t have one.”

“Sure you do. Everyone does.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I grew up here, went to school with Ella and Maverik, moved away to go to college, and just returned home a few weeks ago.”

“Oh.” I flush with a bit of embarrassment realizing he’s just making small talk. “I was raised in LA by my mother who’s an attorney. That’s pretty much it.”

“No dad?” He slowly leans back on the couch, taking his large black hat off and laying it on the couch. “Sorry, that was a bit pushy of me.”

I wave him off as I let out a puff of air. “No, you’re fine. I lost my dad when I was younger.”

“Damn, that’s terrible.”

“Yeah, it was a fishing accident and he drowned.” I’m not sure what comes over me because I despise even talking about my dad, let alone that awful day. I hate the ocean and boats because of it. It was just supposed to be a nice family outing on his sailboat, but it turned tragic.

“Your mom must really miss you being this far from home.”

“Hell.” I dig around in my bag trying to find some kind of food. “She’s happy I’m out of her hair. See, I’m too much like my dad’s side of the family. Nothing like my barracuda mom.”

Two smashed granola bars lay on the bottom of my purse. I grab them and offer one to Sterling. When he politely refuses, I internally scream because I’m starving at this point.

“That’s too bad, Clover. From what the Slatter family has said about you, you’re quite the amazing person and a phenomenal nurse.”

“Whoa, I just love doing my job. I don’t know about the rest of that.” Letting all my manners fly out the window, I stuff a piece of my crumbled granola bar in my mouth.

“Stick around them, Clover, if you hang around this town. They’re good people.”

I nod my head since my mouth is full and honestly have no idea how to respond.

The three FBI agents from earlier walk up the narrow hallway and stop in the waiting room. I’m relieved when they don’t make eye contact with me.

“Where did Maverik and Merek go?” the redheaded woman asks. Looking at her now out of the small office and without the threat of being interrogated, she’s simply gorgeous and much younger than I thought. Her eyes are a piercing green. Sterling’s voice distracts me from falling in love with the lady.

“Went to talk to their granddad.”

My eyes go between the two of them and I find myself more attracted to the woman. Like I’d date her.

“Whoa.” I stand to my feet. “I need sleep now.”

Swinging my large black bag over my shoulder, I dart off before either of them can ask any questions or I mentally dry hump the agent. Sleep, it has to be the lack of sleep and the very stressful day. Holy shit, I’m going nuts. Gripping each side of my face, I really can’t believe I’m living this life and was kicked out by my own family member today while saving Marvel. I mean, it’s not like I’m a town away from home, I’m states away.

The dim lights peeking out into the hall from the small hospital chapel catches my attention. I decide to step inside and glide my hand along the dark wood benches as I walk slowly up to the candles. Before I know it I’m lighting a candle for Marvel and his family and one for my dad. I toss my heavy bag onto a bench as I sink to my knees and begin to pray. Moments of silence pass by as I remain on my knees and soak in the comfort of the chapel.

I lose track of time as I continue to pray and give away all of my problems to the silence, hoping they’re trapped never to find their way back. An odd but very settling warm feeling bathes my senses and I know it’s my dad telling me to keep on keeping on.

“Clover?”

I turn to see Maverik in the back of the chapel holding his hat down at his side.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“It’s fine. Is everything okay?” I ask as I rise to my feet, steady myself, and massage my kneecaps a bit.

“Fine. I mean well…” The chapel is so dimly lit, but the cracks in his voice are evident enough to me that he’s just about to break down. “I’ve never done this.”

His large frame is silhouetted in the back of the church as he raises both arms up in defeat. With all the carnage and heartbreak I’ve witnessed in the last few weeks, this tops it all. To see a grown man, the leader of his family, breakdown is devastating to my soul.

Without a word, I walk to the back of the chapel, grab his hand, and guide him right up to the table at the front. I remain silent as I hand him the lighter and gesture to a candle. Maverik follows each of my gestures as he lights a candle.

“Now, just take your time and pray, Maverik.”

I grab my purse from the bench as Maverik sinks to his knees and bows his head. A grown man so defeated he’s on his knees begging for mercy for his sweet family. It’s in this moment that Maverik Slatter stole a piece of my heart and definitely solidified the fact they’re good people and will take care of me even though it’s not their job.

I feel a bit lighter as I walk out of the chapel and into the dark on-call room. My head hits the pillow and the tears release. Each of them falls hard onto my pillow. It’s something I’ve done since losing my dad. I let out my sorrow behind closed doors and upon deaf ears. A tear-soaked pillow only knows the true pain buried deep down in me.

H
is screams
and yells of agony ring around in my head while his blood is the only thing I can smell and taste. Drip after drip of the crimson liquid flows down the back of my throat with the only sound being Saint’s evil laughter.

The gravel slips and slides under my boot as I try to get to him but never do. I watch as my best friend takes his last breath and it’s all on my shoulders. My leg twitches hard as I feel myself free falling from the scene and then gasp out loud as I wake up to the cold reality. I lived.

“Marvel.”

I look up to see Maverik on one side of me and Merek on the other. It’s the same scene each time. The bastards don’t understand a thing I’m going through. As I rotate my head, I see they finally sent away their women.

“You okay?” Merek asks.

I lift my head as much as my neck brace allows and the same scene lies before me. My entire body is covered in bandages wrapped tightly with IV tubes streaming from each of my wrists. The constant heart monitor sings out loud in the room.

I plop my head back down on the pillow, not answering my brother’s question or even making eye contact with them. The FBI agents will be next, questioning me up one side and down the other, asking if I remember anything that happened or who was responsible for this. I do like I do every other time and just shrug my shoulders, claiming I blacked out.

The agents informed me my truck and trailer were found out in the desert totaled, making my claim of blacking out even more believable. I’ve led them to the conclusion that I must have rolled the truck and survived the accident, but it leaves Weston’s death wide open along with Jose’s. They make sure to visit me every single fucking day.

And with each visit and retell of the made up lie, I feel my last ounce of humanity being stripped away. Even my own thoughts scare the piss out of me. Dangerous and horrible ideas flow through me every time I’m awake. Some are what happened to me while others are what my soul hungers for—revenge and redemption.

“Merek’s staying with you tonight.” Maverik’s voice begins to overpower the beeps of all the machines connected to me. “Just wanted to hang around until you woke up tonight.”

I ball my fists up on the bed. They’re about the only other things I have function over right now, and then squeeze my eyes shut tight.

“Marvel, we aren’t leaving.” Merek leans over the bedrail so close that I can feel his breath pouring down on the side of my face. “You’re talking to the king of dicks, and if you think you can play my game, then you’re quite the fucking fool.”

I don’t miss the wicked laughter that rolls from Merek. He’s pushing me and so is Maverik as he grips the side of the bedrail cracking each knuckle. Being the youngest, I should know better. These two won’t fucking give in.

“Why did you bring the fucking colt home, Marvel? We’re trying to cover your fucking ass. The agents are down all of our necks,” Maverik whisper-shouts.

“I rolled the truck and trailer and don’t remember anything else.”

It sucks lying to my brothers, but it’s my only choice at this point. Saint and his men will go after both of them and their wives, taking no mercy on them. And that’s the one thing I’ll never chance no matter what.

“You stubborn fuck,” Merek hisses. “You brought the fucking colt back home. We saw it with our own eyes in the stable.”

It takes all of my willpower not to yell back at him and lay it all out, but I lick up the bitter taste of blood from biting my tongue. I never got the damn colt. I was just mere feet away and moments from the exchange before all hell broke fucking loose. Saint made it clear he was the king of Fulton County, allowing no shit to go down he doesn’t know about.

I’ve never experienced nightmares as a child, but now it’s pretty much a nightly occurrence, or whenever I fade off into slumber. Everything I experience in a nightmare is all my fault and just seals down each nail in my coffin. I don’t know how to live, can’t even find the damn will to, and here I lie in a hospital bed with a dozen doctors and nurses at my beck and call.

“Marvel, time to change your bandages.”

A familiar face appears in the door and I know the torture is about to begin. I’ve passed out several times when they’ve changed the bandages covering nearly all of my body. It’s a pain I never thought existed. I don’t answer her as she makes her way in with another nurse. I hear them ask my brothers to leave the room, and that may be the only thing I look forward to with this whole fucking process.

It’s the one time they leave my side, giving me a moment to exist without feeling the insurmountable guilt crushing my chest. It’s the torturous pain or my brothers applying the pressure on me. It’s sad when I chose something that’s not family. But it’s as if the pain is morphing into comfort and a well-deserved punishment, and my brothers’ faces are becoming the enemy. It’s all wrong in every sense. It’s not the way I was raised, or the direction my blood flows in my body, but I don’t know how to stop it.

The nurse’s musty scent attacks my nostrils before I know what’s happening. I hear her instructing her partner as they peel back each bandage on the top of my one thigh. The next scent to hit me is one I hope I’m never forced to smell again—my own burnt flesh. I feel the scrubbing process begin, and it only takes a matter of seconds of the bristle brush to scrub against my raw skin for me to pass out.

When I come back to, the nurses are up around my chest unwrapping the wound bandages.

“Doing okay?” one of them asks.

I only nod, feeling queasy with the stench of the room and the tingle attacking every inch of my skin. My vision blurs as I try to focus in on the nurse on my left side, and it’s only her raven black hair that swirls around in my vision.

“Oh, excuse me.” I hear the door to my room swing wide open. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“Clover, get over here. Jaime can’t handle this. I’m almost done and need another set of hands.”

The nurse’s voice is panicked and quite rude, which I know is all chalked up to being stressed. It’s one thing I’ve learned after lying here day in and day out.

“I need to get back to the third floor.”

“Now, Clover.” This time her voice leaves behind no question of what will happen next.

I hear the snapping of latex gloves and the gentle voice of the new nurse as she excuses the queasy one. Nothing is more demeaning than having other adults turn violently sick due to the state of your flesh. I’ve morphed into a monster inside and out. If I were a betting man, I’d bet this new nurse will last ten minutes maximum. They start out strong, go pale, and then the gagging begins.

“We just have his chest left,” the black-haired nurse who has never given up on me says. “He’s looking good today.”

I watch as she directs with her eyes and free hand to the new nurse. When the nurse’s petite hand touches my bare skin I gasp for air. It’s a touch I recognize even through her latex gloves. It takes me a moment before I build up enough courage to make eye contact with her.

As I listen to her innocent voice and focus in on her touch, I know it’s her, and that fact sends shivers down my spine. It’s the first feeling I’ve felt besides pain and agony. It’s a knee jerk reaction. My brain screams no, but I watch my arm raise up to her. I feel my skin scream back at me as it tears and peels from my bone. I’m finally able to cover the top of her hand with my palm, and even though it’s bandaged I can still feel her.

“You saved me.” Three simple words spill from me and I regret each syllable as they connect with the air. I didn’t want to be saved or my family in any more danger because of my stupid ass move to one up Saint and fight for the good to prevail. I needed to die, so everything would go away. Clearly, God, life, or whoever is our creator taught me a nasty lesson that starless night. It doesn’t matter how you get there as long as you get there. Saint Johnson came out the victor in the game of life as I lie in a fucking hospital bed with nurses scrubbing away my dead skin and me lying to my family only to protect them.

“You remember me?” Her voice distracts me from my worthless thoughts. I peer up to her, first connecting with her gorgeous dark hair, then her pale creamy skin, and then the blue eyes I focused on the night I was saved from my own personal hell. It seemed like a dream at the moment until the harsh second I woke up and finally felt every inch of my skin scream in torture and was blinded by the bright lights of the ER.

I only nod back to her.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing so well.” She keeps her gaze on the task at hand and her hands busy.

“Clover, we are going to need more steri strips. Keep working and I’ll go grab some.”

I wait until I hear the door shut to my room before I lay into her.

“You must be fucking dumb or something?”

My words cause her to freeze and her vision to connect with mine.

“I told you to leave me the fuck alone. Guess you don’t understand fucking English.”

“What is wrong with you?” Her jaw drops open and her eyes bulge even bigger.

“I’m fucking alive, that’s what.”

“I uh-I…”

I cut off her pathetic stammering. “You’re fucking dumb.”

The other nurse joins us and they quickly finish up changing my bandages, and I make sure to stare down Clover, trying to make her feel as uncomfortable as possible. Giving her a little taste of my own life…I’ll never be able to live in this skin knowing the bloodshed on my hands and who knows what else is to come.

I hear one final rip of tape and then the original nurse leaves. She and Clover exchange a few words but I don’t catch any of them. Just seeing her face makes my blood boil. I’ve never hated anyone until Saint and my father’s ordeal, but now I truly hate this woman who saved my life. Again, the nasty greedy monster within me rears its ugly head.

“I came in here because…”

“Do me a favor, you stupid bitch, and leave me alone.” I raise my head just enough to make full eye contact with her. “I never want to see your face again.”

“Clover, I’m coming in.” A new and very familiar voice rings from the outside of my room. “I’m done waiting.”

The top of the door swings open, and I’m unable to sit fully up to see who’s entering. Internally, I begin to panic knowing Saint will inevitably finish off the job he set out to do.

A creaking sound slowly makes its way to me.

“I’m sorry.” Clover clutches her hands to her chest. “I tried to ask him, but we got busy changing his bandages.”

I go to open my mouth to tell the bitch off again, and right when the first word is about to roll off my tongue, my granddad’s face is in mine.

“Clover, would you excuse us please?”

“Yes, but I’m waiting right outside the room. I’ll get in big trouble if you get hurt.”

“I’m fine, young lady. Give us five minutes.”

Reservation covers Clover’s face and I can immediately sense she’s not comfortable leaving him here with me. I guess she got my message loud and clear.

“You heard him,” I growl at her as I try to adjust myself in the bed to look closer at Granddad. When my sight hits the metal walker he’s clutched to I spiral even deeper into my own depths of hell. I’m left speechless staring at him and barely recognizing him. He’s lost weight, he’s pale, and has aged even more than before. His fragile body hurts to look at. Granddad takes his time resting his elbow on the side of my bed and then catching his breath.

“Are you okay?” It comes out as a whisper, but I’m legitimately scared right now seeing my very own hero in this condition. More scared than the dark nights out in the wilderness not knowing when Saint’s men were going to come back and finally finish me off. This is a shock that rattles me to my core.

“Talk now, Marvel. There’s no agents around or your brothers. Talk to me now.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Granddad.” I hoist my upper body up in the bed until I’m in a sitting position and ignore the tremors of pain shooting through my body. My fingers tremble around the bedside rail as I fight to clutch it and ignore the pain.

“I’ll be fine as soon as you tell me what in the hell you’ve gone and done.”

I know he’s not letting this go, and the longer I refuse to talk only means the longer he stands next to me. My eyesight goes straight to the hospital bracelet wrapped around his wrist.

“You’re in the hospital too?”

“Yes,” he growls. “Admitted the night you went missing. Damn old heart tried to quit ticking again. Doctors have it patched up real good this time.”

In a quick motion, Granddad raises his hand and then slaps me on the back of the head. “Talk dammit.”

“Ouch.” I clutch the back of my head, rubbing the pads of my fingers over a long line of stiches. “I don’t…”

“Boy, don’t feed me that shit. I know you remember and I need to know the whole truth.”

“I was going to say, I don’t want to remember that night anymore.”

I notice him begin to shake and grow weak right in front of my own eyes.

“Sit down. You’ll need to sit to hear all of this.” I gesture to the chair next to my bed, and as I raise my hand the clear IV tube tugs back on my skin causing yet more pain to flow through me.

“Now talk. I know this is hard and you don’t want to do it, but you will, son.” I don’t miss the determined tone in his voice. It’s one thing I’ve never done, and that’s disrespect my granddad.

“I wanted the damn colt back. We deserve it. Saint made us out to be fools and fucking idiots capitalizing on our hard work only because of our piece of shit father.”

A monitor in the distance goes off and I know it’s my blood pressure racing out of control. I take a few moments to control my anger before I begin talking again.

“Maverik and Merek were watching me too close the day we sent the colts back, so I had to go around them. Made a deal with one of Saint’s men to get the colt back.”

“Jesus, Marvel, are you that big of a fool?” Granddad buries his face in his palms.

And the real pain of my situation finally hits me hard in the gut. His disappointment is worse than any flesh wound.

“It’s not what you think. He never turned on me.” I try to sit up a bit taller telling my story and fighting back not to wince out loud in pain. As each shred of torturous pain shoots through me I know I deserve all of it—every single ounce—and feel even worse thinking about Weston.