*TRIGGER WARNING: SA*
The taillights of the convoy ahead of Gin's Mustang illuminated the road in front of her. The cab was silent besides the local rock station faintly playing from the upgraded sound system.
"You know this will get to your dad."
Ryan broke the silence. His words were beginning to slur indicating the alcohol had reached his bloodstream.
"Ryan, I didn't ask you to ride with me, just so I can fuck you."
Gin laughed.
"Besides, I can handle my father."
"Then, why?"
"Because, maybe you're the most interesting person on the ranch."
Gin refused to admit she liked him. She'd rather play it off that she just wants a quick fuck and a plaything. The remainder of the forty-five-minute ride was silent. Ryan kept his palm gently on Gin's knee, watching the shadows fly by. The treetops were backlit by the full moon, illuminating the mountain side. Every so often they would steal glances at each other, smiling in response. It was a bad idea to hook up with one of her father's ranch hands, neither of them had no idea how it would end and how either her father or Rip would react. Pulling into the Dutton Ranch, Gin parked her car next to the lodge, she got out and directed Jimmy to park next to her. The rest of the vehicles were parked down by the barn and bunk house.
Ryan hanged back waiting for Jimmy to descend the hill, before he grabbed ahold of Gin's hand, swung her body around to where he had her back firmly pressed against the cold side of the U-Haul. He cuffed her wrists with his hand and raised them above her head. Ryan kissed the nape of her neck, tracing the tip of his tongue along her sternocleidomastoid, leaving a steamy trail that tingled against the cool air. Taking her mouth into his, licking her bottom lip begging to enter. Gin fought for dominance, soon yielding to his captivating touch.
'This is wrong.'
She thought.
Breaking away in a heated breath, her heart palpating at a rapid speed.
"I can't. Not right now."
She stated in between each heavy breath. Ryan stopped instantly as concerned washed over his face and his hand dropped down to cup her jaw.
"What's wrong? Is it something I did?"
He continued to caress her cheek with the calloused pad of his thumb.
Gin smiled at him reassuringly, while his hands into hers.
"Nothing you've done wrong, whatsoever. But I feel we shouldn't proceed for now. You are far more intoxicated than I am and it kinda goes against my own moral virtues."
She smiled at him.
"But I do want to continue whatever this is, on another day."
"Is this how you feel?"
He wanted to clarify what she said. He wanted her, all of her.
"Yeah, it is."
"Well, as you wish pretty lady."
He leaned in and kissed her cheek before they separated.
"Is there anything we need to bring in immediately?"
He asked tilting his head towards the U-Haul.
"Just the plants. Everything else can wait till morning."
Gin walked over to the tailgate of the box truck and unlocked the padlock that secured the latch.
"There are four large ones, the rest are sorted into boxes."
Once she got the gate open, both Gin and Ryan stepped up into the truck, release the ramp and started to loosen up the load straps that secured the boxes from falling. After shifting a few boxes, she grabbed the dolly cart and retrieved her largest and oldest plant, a six-year-old Monstera. There was one other that needed the cart by itself. Ryan grabbed the two smaller ones, a Silver Spotted Pothos that sat in a plant hanger and a snake plant.
"Follow me, we'll put them in the sitting room for now. Careful not to wake my dad."
Gin gave her orders, before heading down the moving ramp.
"Okey dokey."
Ryan grinned while making the 'OK' sign with his hand.
Quietly they hauled the cart up the front steps, pausing a moment to allow Ginni to unlock the door, then unloaded the cart and the two plants, smack down in the middle of the living room in front of the window.
"Alright, let's grab the rest."
She had one very large Aloe plant that needed the cart and four boxes.
As they were bringing in the last load, footsteps began echoing from the hallway.
"What the hell is going on?"
John Dutton's voice boomed drawing both Gin and Ryan's attention. He was in his pajamas and robe.
"Sorry dad, didn't mean to wake you. Had to bring the plants in before they freeze."
Gin waved her hand over the foliage.
"When did you get in?"
He yawned, before rubbing his eyes then blinking, allowing them to readjust.
"Roughly fifteen minutes ago."
She lied.
"And you brought the forest into my house?"
He raised an eyebrow. He didn't care for house plants. There was no reason to bring something that grows outside, to be put in a pot and grow inside.
"I'll move them in the morning."
Gin reassured.
"Sorry."
"It's alright. We'll have the boys help with your belongings tomorrow. Goodnight kiddo."
Her father knodded and turned to walk back to his bedroom.
"Oh and Ryan, Get back to the bunkhouse."
John was gone.
Gin turned to her loyal helper,
"Thank you so much for helping, I really do appreciate it."
She reached up and kissed his cheek.
"Goodnight handsome."
"Goodnight Genevieve."
Ryan gave her the most adorable grin as he walked out of the Dutton Lodge down to the comforts of his bed in the bunkhouse.
It took several hours for the wranglers and Gin move her belongings into the spare room. Any furniture that didn't fit, they tarped up and stored it in the storage room, down in the root cellar. Gator made lunch for everyone around noon and then it was back to bringing boxes in. Granted a series of groans and complaints spewed from Fred. Why her father hired him, Gin could never figure it out. He was rude, ignorant, and complained far too often. Gave Genevieve a feeling she couldn't shake off.
She decided to unpack and set up her bedroom. She decided to drag the Monstera into the bathroom, where the steam would keep the humidity up. The rest of the plants would be happy in her bedroom sine the window faces the southwest side of the valley. She started placing her book on the built-in bookshelf, then moved on to setting up her dressing table. The contents contained several brands of makeup vintage perfume bottles neatly organized in the drawers and next to the mirror. She filled the dresser drawers with various types of clothing: one drawer was for tank tops, camisoles and crop tops. Another was all of her jeans, separated into work jeans and her party jeans. The last drawer was filled with her underwear and dance floss.
After many hours of decorating and putting things away, it was finally supper time. Gin washed her face and hands before making her way down the stairs and into the dining room. Beth didn't make her appearance at the dinner table, leaving the ambiance in silence. The clanking of antique silverware hitting porcelain rattled the air as there was tempestuous sister to ruin it. Gator really outdid himself this evening, a spread of mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, and the most flavorful and juicy tenderloin any butcher could offer. This was exactly how supper should be, despite her sister ruining every meal at the dining room table for the last twenty years. Finishing up with a nightcap or coffee, Gin excused herself from the table, leaving her father and Jamie alone. The sun had yet to begin setting, giving Gin a good hour and a half to be able to ride her Honda before it got completely dark. She walked up the stairs to her room and pulled her bike riding chaps from her closet and began snapping them into place. Once strapped in, she grabbed her helmet and the fringed leather coat. There was still plenty of daylight left to walk down to the tack room where she stored her bike from the elements.
The air was crisp for a mid April day. It was cool enough to rosy her cheeks. With a flick of her wrist, she turned the key in the ignition and kickstarted the hog beneath her. The rumbling must have startled her father and Jamie because when she rolled the machine out from the small room attached to the barn, they both were standing out on the patio investigating the disruption.
Genevieve sped off, spewing gravel beneath her tires, fishtailing in a dust cloud. This was exactly what she needed. She looped through the park, down into town and back. It was just after dark when she rolled back onto the Dutton ranch. Crickets were chirping and the coyotes yipped in the distance. Not a soul disturbed the various animals that resided on the ranch.
She took her time walking her bike into the tack room, getting the microfiber towels out to get the dust off the paint and chrome.
"Somebody oughta teach a mouthy bitch like you a lesson."
A voice growled from the doorway, blocking her only way out. Gin ached the pit of her stomach.
This was not good.
Gin whipped around facing the devil himself. Fred wreaked of booze and stale garlic and corn chips. It was putrid against Gin's nose. His body odor made her eye's water.
"You really think you're some hot shit that rolled onto this ranch, when it's clear your daddy doesn't give two fucks about his pretty little girl."
The drunk inched closer, as Gin stepped back.
"Just a two-bit, lowlife, disappointment need Jesus. Find God. Maybe a tramp like you needs Jesus pounded into that sweet little ass."
The wrangler lunged forward, causing Gin to stumble back. They wrestled, fighting to take control. Fred's weight trumped Gin by a good hundred and fifty pounds, so pushing him off was near impossible. Struggling, Genevieve grabbed her helmet from the floor after it had fallen and slammed it against his temple, then repeated it again, bashing him hard.
It didn't work. She had only made him angrier. With a loud growl, he gripped her hair in the front then yanked her head back, bashing it into the cement floor. Her vision distorted like a kaleidoscope from the seventies. Vision blurred as her attacker continued to punch her repeatedly while straddling her hips, arms pinned beneath his knees. Gin felt so helpless, her arms were weak, she didn't have enough room to swing her legs up and choke him. Fred moved between her legs, pulled a Leatherman utility knife from his belt, and began sawing into the crotch of her denim.
As Genevieve gained consciousness, she slowly reached into her front pocket and pulled out her folding box cutter. With limited motion, she flipped the blade and positioned it to where she had the ability to drive it into his thigh. Fred howled with pain as Gin dug a inch deep hole into his flesh. He used the palm of his hand in attempt to break her nose. Blood splattered across his shirt, as it cascaded down her face. Struggling through the searing torment her body is enduring, she flipped him on his back and held his chest down with her knee, pressing the edge of the razorblade to the pressure point of his throat.
Adrenaline course through her veins like venom injected into her from a rattlesnake bite.
"You ever put your hands on me again, I'll saw your FUCKING head off."
Gin thwacked him across the cheek with the hilt of the utility knife then spat in his face.
"I will kill you. Do you hear me, kill you."
She stood up shakingly, grabbed her coat and wrapped it around her form exhaling a shaky breath, she crept her way back to the lodge, she was just about to step a foot on the wood of the front porch, when Rip stopped her, while he exited the Dutton home.
"Gin, what happened?"
His voice dipped low.
"I wiped out on my bike."
She stated hastily before attempting her escape. Rip reached out and grabbed her forearm, preventing Gin to leave.
"Telling the truth? Anything I need to know?"
He didn't buy it. Rip wasn't the one for compassion, but when it comes to the Dutton women, he was beyond involved.
Gin held back the sob, she fought so hard to conceal.
"Rip, I'm fine I just need some rest."
Shaking her head, she removed herself from the situation, pushing past him she ascended the steps and disappeared into the lodge. She rushed up to her room, and began running a hot bath, peeling off the crusty clothes she was wearing, the gash on her cheek stung as the steam from the water clouded the bathroom. Throwing the scraps of Levi's in the trash bin. She finished undressing and sank into the heated water. Her body wracked with a sob that forced its way out of her. She was going to have to face him every day, be near his sulfuric soul. She didn't want to be anywhere near Fred. But she also didn't want her father or Rip to think she was weak. Gin could handle herself. She lived in Salt Lake for Christ's sake; she was not weak. This made her feel useless and vulnerable. She hated the feeling. His essence lingered on her like tar sludge, she couldn't wash it away. Harder and harder she scrubbed, her skin became bright red as she vigorously attacked it with soap and a loofa. After spending hours in the tub, she dried herself and got herself ready for a restless sleep.
Gin decided to stay in the lodge the next morning. While the men herd and cut he cattle in the arena, she chose to sit in her room and write. Write about her thoughts, the events that happened at the bar with the handsome blue-eyed lawman. She even released her energy into writing about the traumatizing run in she had with Fred. Her love for this ranch had once again been tainted by a hand that worked close to her father. Maybe someone could save her from the precipice Genevieve was about to fall into. Her emotions bled onto the pages of her leather-bound journal. Even when it got to in the house, from the spring afternoon sun began shining brightly into the living room window. She made her way to the south side of the lodge, sitting on one of the benches that loitered the deck. Birds were beginning to migrate back to the northern hemisphere. Men and trucks gathered around the arena as they cut and load. Gin didn't notice her brother rolling up in his vintage pickup truck and her nephew occupying passenger seat. She continued her writing until Kayce walked up to the lodge.
"Didn't think you'd stay in town."
Her brother interrupted her train of though. Gin shot her head up with a smile.
"Hey brother. No, uh... Dad asked me to come back."
Gin smiled up at her older brother. Before standing from her seat and the siblings embraced.
"Why?"
He asked, with a sour look forming on his face.
"Don't know, I have no desired skill he could utilize."
Gin shrugged, while her brother's face contorted with confusion.
"I don't know either, Gin. He's always got something up his sleeve."
Kayce shrugged.
"What are you doing up here?"
Gin cocked an eyebrow, asking him the same.
"Monica asked me to take little out of the house today."
He refused to look at his kid sister in the eye.
"Look, I've got to find dad and Tate. I'll see you around Ginni."
He walked into the lodge leaving Ginni standing in the same spot she left Rip the night before.
the Sun barely touched the mountains when a chorus of yelling came from the side of the barn. Gin dropped the journal and ran down as fast as her fee could carry her. Once in sight, she saw that the fat fuck Fred was getting pummeled by Rip. Gin stood back as Rip grabbed Jimmy by the lapels and pulled his collar.
"You see this! You know what this means!?"
Rip bellowed as he tossed Jimmy around to show Fred, who was standing behind him. Gin took the opportunity to approach closer.
"This means 'Don't fucking touch' Fred!"
He was screaming at the ranch hand with so much force that spit was pooling at the corners of his mouth.
"Don't fucking touch."
His voice lowered; Gin wanted to see the repercussion Fred was going to get. Every inch of her being wanted to tear into him like a pack of wolves who just took down their prey.
"Now you guys can go get the supper that you didn't earn."
Rip pushed Jimmy ahead of him.
"Get out of here."
He said before getting into Colby's face and repeated himself. The men shuffled off back to the bunkhouse.
"I didn't start it, he said it."
Fred spat, still cowering on the ground. Lloyd snapped the bull whip across his face, knocking the piece of shit back.
"Doesn't matter who started it, you fat fuck."
Gin snarled, baring teeth with her hands on her hips.
"Go fuck yourself."
Fred sputtered before Rip moved forward and bludgeoned the ranch hand with his fists.
"If you ever hit a branded man again or speak to the one of the Dutton's like that again, I'll kill ya Fred."
Rip hissed as he had Fred by the lapels of his flannel. He then dropped the bastard on the dirt and walked over to Jimmy. Ginni used this brief moment to grab Fred by his hair, pull him up close to where she could whisper in his ear.
"That's the second time someone said they're going to kill you, Fred. I hope someone follows through if it's not going to be me."
She dropped his form with a thump, getting Rip's attention.
"Get the fuck out of here Genevieve!"
Rip growled, as he walked to Fred.
"Jimmy's no longer cleaning the stalls Fred, that's your job."
She didn't move.
"No!"
Fred had become furious with his new duties.
"I ain't cleaning no god damn stalls."
Gin smirked. The one thing you don't do is tell the foreman or her father 'no'.
"Lloyd?"
Rip called over his second in command,
"Give this man his week's wages and get this piece of shit off the ranch."
"Bye bye."
Gin giggled maniacally, while she mocked the dead man walking. This was sweet victory, and a beautiful case of instant karma.
"Dumb fucking Dutton cunt! You're lucky you had a blade."
Fred spat towards the hierarchy.
Lloyd pushed Fred to move.
"Get to the fucking bunkhouse."
"They come ago and go Jimmy, but not us."
Rip whispered to the youngest of the ranchers. Jimmy asked to wash up, but Rip had a better idea. He chose to have the other wranglers look at the despair Jimmy was in. A reminder that fight was not permitted amongst each other on the ranch.
"As for you..."
He stopped Gin in her tracks.
"Are you going to tell me what the fuck that was about?"
Refusing to look at her father's right hand in the eye, she lied.
"He was pissing me off, far too much of a loudmouth and doesn't know how not to treat a lady."
Leaving her statement her statement with ominent. She turned to face her brother who was approaching.
"What do you want?"
"I need a horse, they ain't back yet."
Kayce walked past both of them and into the tack room.
"Go with him, I'll stay here."
Gin told the foreman before heading back to the lodge and picked a spot that overlooked the open range of the ranch. Perching high will give her the advantage to see across the pasture.
A half an hour later Kayce came riding up with his son in the saddle with him. Rip and her father tailing yards behind, descending the hill she met with Kayce.
"Auntie Gen!"
Tate slid off the horse and ran to his aunt, wrapping his arms around her mid-section in a hug.
"Hey kiddo, had a good time?"
Kayce shifted his eyes to care at his kid sister.
"Yeah! I fell in the river and Grandpa saved me!"
The child jumped with excitement.
"Got a nasty cut from it."
She examined the boy's cheek.
"I'm taking him to get stitches."
Kayce barked as he took his son by the hand.
"I'll see you around Gin. C'mon Tate."
And with that he looked at their father and turned to make a beeline tail to his truck.
Lloyd and Fred emerged from the bunk house. Fred's belongings were stuffed into a few suit cases. Gin didn't say anything but decided she was going to be there when Lloyd dropped him off at the train station. Without anyone noticing she opened the back of Lloyd's work truck and slipped in.
It took a good thirty minutes and a cough coming from the Dutton girl, startling the two other riders.
"Jesus christ! Miss Gin?"
Lloyd exclaimed.
"Hiya Lloyd, thought I'd tag along."
Gin grinned wickedly to Fred.
"Rip and Mr. Dutton are going to kill me."
Lloyd shook his head and continued to drive.
"Fuck John Dutton and fuck you too."
Fred spat.
"I would have fucked your whore mouth if you didn't stick me like a pig."
His statement caused Lloyd to raise an eyebrow and looked at Gin through the rearview mirror. Although Gin ignored his remark.
"Where we going?"
Fred then asked.
"Train station."
Several minutes passed since the Wyoming state line, Lloyd had pulled the Dodge to a desolate area. He got out of the truck taking Fred's suitcase with him.
"End of the line asshole."
Gin said while slipping out.
"Hey where are we!? What are you doing?"
Fred ran to the elder wrangler. Who with one sweep of his arm tossed the suitcase over the cliff while Gin dragged his sleeping bag and matt over and followed the same pursuit.
"This ain't no god damn train station."
Fred looked over the edge.
"Sure it is...The long black train."
Lloyd pulled out his gun, pulled the trigger and shot Fred between they're eyes. Making him fall back over the cliff.
"Let's finish this up and get out of here."
Responding to Lloyd's statement with a nod, Gin grabbed the rest of Fred's stuff and threw them over the edge.
Lloyd broke the silence of their long, dark car ride back to the ranch.
"I know you're not going to say a damn thing to either Rip or your father. But, are you going to tell me why you're so hell bent to see that jackass board the train?"
There was no use of lying about it now. The bastard was already dead, and Lloyd has pulled her out of stickier situation than she could count. She didn't have the gall to lie to Lloyd.
She took a deep breath.
"He attacked me last night in the tack room."
"What do you mean 'attacked'?"
His knuckles started to turn white against the steering wheel.
"It's exactly what it sounds Lloyd."
On that note, the two sat quietly the rest of the way back to the ranch.