Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
“Oh, I see,” Peyton says, raising her eyebrows. “You’re going to swoop in and save it. Buy the other half and give us the money. Is that your plan?” Before he can respond, Peyton leans forward to say, “My family will die before selling our land. They will die twice before selling it to a Grayson. So good luck with that.”
Arsen watches Peyton for a second before murmuring, “You’re not as dumb as I thought you’d be.” Peyton gasps beside me as he keeps going: “But you’re forgetting somethin’. I don’t wanna buy your land. I just wanna control it. Especially now.”
“Why now?”
“Because there’s oil in it.”
“Oil?”
“Yeah. The thing that’s gonna solve all our problems. Your brother’s meetin’ up with an oil-drilling company in three weeks. If the deal goes through, they’ll break ground, dig oil wells all over your land and you’ll be swimmin’ in money for generations.” He pauses before stating, “Unfortunately for him, I control half of that land he wants to drill on.”
“You’re going to stop the deal,” Peyton breathes out in realization.
He nods his head. “If they don’t agree to my demand.”
“And your demand is gaining control of the entire land.”
With his eyes flashing, he declares, “You’re right. Turners will never sell their land to Graysons. But the thing is, your land already belongs to us. Always has, always will. But we’re not heartless. We’ll let you keep your business. We’ll even let you keep the percentage of the profits from the oil that you so kindly found for us. The point is that we could all be swimming in money. All your brother has to do is agree.”
“So ultimately,” Peyton bites out, “this is about money.”
He tips his hat up with his finger. “You know it.”
“What a cliché.”
“Cliché for a reason.”
Peyton is outraged; I can feel it. I want to calm her down, but I’m dealing with my own rage. I can feel my pulse pounding in my temple. I can feel it in my face, in every part of my body. Because I know he’s not telling the whole truth. I somehow know he’s hiding something.
Isn’t he?
I know he doesn’t care about the money. There’s no way this is about money. He has an agenda. Which means he’s still lying. Even after he promised he wouldn’t. He made a vow, our wedding vow.
Here’s the proof then.
That everything that happened in the woods was a lie. Just like those letters were, and I… I don’t know how to deal with that. I don’t know how to deal with the fact that he doesn’t have the decency to acknowledge my presence. To look me in the eyes as he lies about his grand plan of vengeance.
“And you’re doing this for revenge,” Peyton concludes from beside me, and I have to really focus to be able to hear her.
“Yes. Eight years ago, your family started somethin’ and I’m going to end it.”
“Am I allowed to ask exactly what happened that led you to almost kill my father eight years ago?”
At this, I have to look up. Somewhere during this whole conversation, I averted my eyes and started staring down at my lap. I stared at my fisted fingers, my jutting-out knuckles. I stared at my jean-covered knees, my borrowed boots, anywhere but at him, because if I did, he’d probably know the effect he’s having on me. He’d probably see that I’m still affected by what he does when he’s so totally unaffected by me.
But I can’t not look at him right now. I can’t pretend that this isn’t what I wanted, this isn’t what I’ve been waiting for. To find out why. What happened to his Annie.
His features are set in stone, and even though the brim of his hat’s up, his eyes still seem hidden in the shadows, mysterious and dark as he replies in a low tone, “No. Because you don’t get that story.”
I wince. Not outwardly but on the inside.
My insides clench, my belly and my chest. Even my fisted fingers flex and my nails almost break the skin with how tight I’m curling them into my palms. But I’m proud to say that he doesn’t notice. He wouldn’t anyway because he’s still staring at Peyton, and even though I’m sitting right next to her, I’m almost convinced he doesn’t even know I’m here. Which, in this case, is fine, really, because his no somehow felt personal.
After this, I straighten my spine and try to focus on things that matter. Such as the fact that Peyton agrees to their scheme. She agrees to go along with it and act married because she doesn’t really care about the land or the feud either. If Arsen wants to end it all, she’s not going to stand in his way. Or at least that’s what she tells them.