said. “I’m good. Besides, I don’t want to be near those two gossiping hens chatting about their sex life anyway.”
I stayed quiet, picking up a small stick and poking an ember. I just had to keep cool. “Well, I plan on getting sleep,” I said, again hoping he would pick up on the hint.
But no such luck. He just plowed on as if I didn’t even speak.
“Jane’s just a bit of a hoe, you know? It’s not a big surprise she found the first stick to ride. No offense.”
I set my jaw and kept staring at the fire. Keep it together, Sawyer, that’s all you have to do.
“I really think you ought to get to bed,” I said.
“She’s just like that. Cecelia too. Probably worse, Cecelia actually, but Jane was the one with the wild oats to sow this time, I guess. I suppose it’s nothing new for you, though, is it?”
I stayed quiet, letting him try to provoke me. I could handle a lot, but if he kept going, I didn’t know how much longer I would be able to before I knocked him into next week.
“See, the way I figure it, you get girls like that all the time,” he continued. “Maybe not as slutty as them, granted, but girls that want the real cowboy experience. And I am sure you give it to them, don’t you? Guys like you are all the same. I remember from high school. You might have a bunch of land and some money, but you’re a hick dirt farmer at heart, aren’t you? Just got to get your dick wet once in a while, and this time, you had your pick of two rich girls looking for Marlboro Man. I get it. I respect it. Game respects game.”
I silently wondered exactly what kind of game he had. It must have mostly consisted of balled-up one-dollar bills soaked in vodka and desperation and the side-eye of every stripper in the area who knew just how to milk him of maximum tips and leave him with blue balls anyway. At least I hoped no woman ever got caught on his hook willingly without being paid handsomely for their time.
“You know, if you play your cards right, I bet Cecelia is curious enough to come out here tonight and jump your bones too,” he said.
I tossed my stick into the fire. Finally turning to him, I fumed and felt the pressure building in my chest, aching to let me let loose on him.
I wanted to yell at him, to ask him what the hell his problem was. To ask him if he had any respect for his cousins at all or if he was just a miserable jackass to everyone all the time. To tell him I thought he was a useless waste of six feet, and I wouldn’t trust him to run a beet farm much less work on a ranch without intense supervision. To let him know that if his uncle wasn’t paying a handsome fee for me to see them through the end of the trip, that I would have taken him out to an open field and watered the crops with his blood while I beat him senseless and reminded him what being a man actually was.
But I didn’t.
I kept my teeth set shut and gritted through them. When I spoke, it was low, controlled, and full of rage. Not that I was even sure he picked up on it. He was too busy being a bully and thinking he was so clever and untouchable he could say what he wanted without repercussion.
“Good night,” I grumbled and turned over on my side so my back faced him. I pulled my hat over my face, but the last image of him staring at me haunted my vision when my eyes closed. It was him grinning like a son of a bitch, feeling like he won.
People like him were everywhere, in every walk of life, and I knew a few of them. Sons and daughters of other wealthy ranchers were sometimes like that. Money corrupted their souls in a way that they never recognized, never understood, but could be seen by anyone that met them. Maybe Rubin would have been a better person had he been born to an average-income family. Or maybe not. Maybe he was just a jackass.
Either way, he was who he was now, and I was going to have to deal with him a little bit more. I listened