oskea93

[oskea93]

✶ Weren't for the wind - Jake Seresin x OC ✶ Part one

Warnings: Story will contain situations involving arranged marriage, sexism, cursing, verbal and emotion abuse, sexual content, mentions of suicide mentions of drugs and alcohol, miscarriages, etc.

😊 If you would like to be tagged, drop a comment or message me 😊

The lacy material pooled around me like a wealthy curtain—a curtain that I would never be able to afford myself. The dress was a masterpiece, or so Lydia had declared when she first laid eyes on it. It was her choice, of course, not mine. She had swooped into the bridal boutique like a hurricane, dismissing every gown I tried on with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand. “Too plain,” she’d said about the first one. “Too modern,” about the second. “Not elegant enough,” about the third. And then she’d seen this dress—a beaded, lace-covered monstrosity that weighed more than I did. “This is it,” she’d announced, her voice ringing with finality. “This is the one.”

Now, standing in front of the full-length mirror with the dress clinging to me like a second skin, I felt like an imposter. The bodice was too tight, the seams digging into my ribs, and the fabric bunched awkwardly around my hips. Lydia’s sharp intake of breath behind me was all the confirmation I needed that something was wrong.

“Are you sure this is the correct size, Shelia?” Lydia’s voice was tight, her words clipped. “I don’t remember all these rolls sticking out the last time we tried the dress on her.”

I flinched at her words, my cheeks burning. Rolls? I glanced at the mirror again, my eyes darting to the areas she’d pointed out. Was it really that bad? I had been trying to keep up with her ridiculous fitness regimen—her “little” cardio plan that involved waking up at the crack of dawn to jog around the neighborhood before work. But after the third morning of her personal trainer pounding on my door at five a.m., I’d given up. I’d opened the door, glared at him, and then slammed it shut in his face. Sleep had won out over wedding prep every time.

“Have you been snacking since the last fitting?” Lydia’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and accusatory. She stepped closer, her designer heels clicking against the polished floor. “You’re getting married in less than a week, Mia, and the dress barely fits you!”

“Lydia, it’s not a big deal,” Shelia interjected, her tone calm and soothing. She was kneeling beside me, pinning the fabric where it needed to be adjusted. “I can take a few seams out, and everything will be just fine.”

Lydia let out an aggravated sigh, the frown lines she spent thousands of dollars erasing with Botox every few weeks creasing her forehead despite her best efforts. She rubbed at her temples; her frustration palpable. “I can’t have you standing up at that altar, in front of all Dallas society, looking like a sausage in a casing.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from snapping back. A sausage in a casing? Really? I wanted to tell her that maybe if she’d let me choose my own dress, I wouldn’t be in this mess. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Lydia had a way of making me feel small, like my opinions didn’t matter. And, if I was being honest, I was too exhausted to fight her.

“Lydia, please,” Shelia said, her voice firm but kind. “Mia looks beautiful. The dress just needs a few adjustments, and it will be perfect. Trust me.”

Lydia huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine. But it better be ready by Thursday. The rehearsal dinner is Friday, and I won’t have any more delays.”

“It’ll be ready,” Shelia promised, giving me a reassuring smile as she stood.

As Lydia turned to examine the accessories on display, I finally let out the breath I’d been holding. Shelia leaned in closer, her voice low. “Don’t let her get to you, Mia. This is your day, not hers.”

I nodded, but the words felt hollow. Was it really my day? Or was it just another event for Lydia to show off to her high-society friends? I glanced at my reflection again, the dress still clinging to me in all the wrong places. I didn’t feel like a bride. I felt like a prop in someone else’s production.

“Come on,” Shelia said gently, guiding me toward the fitting room. “Let’s get you out of this and into something more comfortable.”

This marriage wasn’t for me—it wasn’t for the groom—it was for the family business. A business that was being passed off to my soon-to-be husband, Jake Seresin, who had fucked around and found out with most of the women in Texas and beyond. His party boy ways were an embarrassment to the family, and they’d found some poor sap (me) to try to tame his ways and be the loving wife he needed to finally settle down and become serious.

My history with Jake Seresin was not one that contained any love or even respect. I’d known the guy for most of my life, being in the same class in elementary school and having classes together in high school. He was the typical rich boy jock—hosting parties at his parents’ lake house every weekend and during the summer, being the loudest one in class to get attention, or making a show when he scored a touchdown on Friday nights. He was the golden boy, the one everyone wanted to be around, but not for the right reasons.

Jake was the kind of guy who thrived on chaos. He’d show up to class hungover, brag about his conquests, and somehow still manage to charm his way out of trouble. I’d always kept my distance, preferring to stay under the radar while he basked in the spotlight. But now, here we were, about to be married—not because we wanted to, but because it was expected of us.

The Seresin family business was on the line, and Jake’s antics had finally caught up with him. His reputation was in shambles, and the board of directors was threatening to cut him out of the inheritance unless he “cleaned up his act.” Enter me—the daughter of a single mother who owned the only bar in town that Crawford Seresin frequented whenever he and Lydia were on the outs. No one of the Seresin status, or even close to it, patronized the Whiskey Highway. Lydia called it an eyesore and had even petitioned for it to be demolished and turned into a Chick-fil-A. But she couldn’t get the signatures from those she often looked down upon, the very people who found solace in my mom’s bar.

Crawford Seresin was a man of few words, but he had a certain presence that commanded respect. He knew of my mom’s struggles since Dad up and left in the middle of the night 15 years ago. He had watched my brother, Brian, and me grow up, sometimes talking to us as we did our homework at the vacant table near the back. He was nice—cold, but nice. There was a gruff kindness to him, a quiet understanding that didn’t need to be spoken.

I had dropped out of college to help Mom and Brian out at the bar, deciding that I didn’t need to become a doctor at this point in my life. The Whiskey Highway was more than just a bar; it was a lifeline for my family. It was where we scraped together enough to pay the bills, where Mom worked herself to the bone, and where Brian and I learned the value of hard work. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was ours.

So, when Crawford approached me one evening, sitting at his usual spot at the bar with a glass of whiskey in hand, I wasn’t entirely surprised. He had that look in his eyes—the one that said he was about to make a proposition.

“Mia,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “I’ve been watching you for a long time. You’re a hard worker, loyal, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. My son… well, he’s not like you.”

I didn’t say anything, just waited for him to continue.

“Jake needs someone like you,” Crawford said, his gaze steady. “Someone who can keep him in line, make him grow up. The board is breathing down my neck, and if he doesn’t shape up, he’s out. I’m offering you a deal—marry Jake, and I’ll make sure your family is taken care of. The bar will be safe, and your mom won’t have to worry about money ever again.”

I stared at him, my mind racing. It was an insane proposition, but there was a part of me that couldn’t ignore the practicality of it. My family had struggled for so long, and this could be a way out—for all of us. But at what cost?

“And what about me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “What about what I want?”

Crawford leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. “You’ll have security. Stability. And who knows? Maybe you’ll even find a way to make it work with Jake. He’s not as bad as he seems.”

“No offense,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me, “but I’d rather cut both my legs off with a dull knife and bleed to death than marry your son.”

Crawford Seresin froze mid-sip of his whiskey, his glass hovering in the air as his sharp eyes locked onto mine. The bar was quiet for a moment, the hum of the jukebox in the background the only sound breaking the tension. Even my mom, who was wiping down the counter a few feet away, paused, her eyes widening as she glanced between me and Crawford.

“Mia,” she said softly, a warning in her tone. But I didn’t care. I’d had enough.

Crawford set his glass down slowly, the clink of it against the bar echoing in the silence. “That’s a strong statement,” he said, his voice calm but laced with something dangerous. “Care to explain why you feel that way?”

I crossed my arms over my chest, refusing to back down. “Your son is a walking disaster, Mr. Seresin. He’s arrogant, selfish, and hasn’t had a single thought in his head that wasn’t about himself since the day I met him in elementary school. He’s the kind of guy who throws parties at your lake house and leaves the place trashed, then expects someone else to clean it up. He’s the guy who brags about his conquests like they’re trophies and then acts like the world owes him something when he inevitably screws up. I’m not going to tie myself to that for the rest of my life, no matter what you’re offering.”

Crawford leaned back in his chair, studying me with an intensity that made me want to squirm. But I held my ground, my chin jutting out in defiance.

“You’ve got guts,” he said after a long moment, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll give you that. But let me ask you this—do you really think you’ve got a better option?”

I faltered for a moment, his words hitting harder than I wanted to admit. The truth was, I didn’t have a better option. The Whiskey Highway was barely staying afloat, and Mom was working herself to the bone just to keep the lights on. Brian was doing his best to help, but he was still just a kid. I’d dropped out of college to take care of them, and now I was stuck in this town with no prospects and no way out.

Crawford must have seen the hesitation in my eyes because he leaned forward, his voice low and serious. “I’m not asking you to love him, Mia. Hell, I’m not even asking you to like him. I’m asking you to do what’s best for your family. Marry Jake, and I’ll make sure your mom never has to worry about money again. The bar will be safe, and Brian will have the chance to go to college without drowning in debt. All I’m asking is that you give my son a chance to grow up.”

I looked away, my chest tightening. He was offering me everything I’d been fighting for—security, stability, a future for my family. But at what cost? My own happiness? My freedom?

“And what if he doesn’t grow up?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “What if he stays the same selfish, entitled jerk he’s always been? What then?”

Crawford sighed, running a hand over his face. “Then you’ll have my word that you can walk away. But give it a year, Mia. That’s all I’m asking. One year to see if he can change.”

I stared at him, my mind racing. One year. One year of pretending to be the perfect wife to a man I couldn’t stand. One year of playing the role for the sake of my family. It sounded like a prison sentence, but it was also a lifeline.

“I need to think about it,” I said, my voice firm but my mind racing. “Maybe find the knife just in case,” I muttered the last part under my breath, too quietly for Crawford to hear—or so I thought.

His sharp eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought he’d caught it. But he didn’t say anything, just leaned back in his chair and took another sip of his whiskey. “Take your time,” he said, his tone calm but laced with an edge that told me he wasn’t used to being told no. “But don’t take too long. The board’s patience is wearing thin, and if Jake doesn’t get his act together soon, this whole deal falls apart.”

I nodded, my throat tight, and turned away before he could see the uncertainty in my eyes. My mom was still behind the bar, her hands busy wiping down the counter, but I could feel her gaze on me. She didn’t say anything, not yet, but I knew she’d have questions later. She always did.

I stepped outside, the cool night air hitting my face like a slap. The Whiskey Highway was on the edge of town, surrounded by nothing but empty fields and the occasional flicker of a streetlight. It was quiet out here, the kind of quiet that made it easy to think—or maybe too easy to think. I leaned against the wall of the building; my arms crossed over my chest as I stared up at the stars.

Marry Jake Seresin. The idea was ludicrous, laughable even. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized it wasn’t just about me. It was about my mom, who’d worked herself to the bone for years to keep this place running. It was about Brian, who deserved a chance to go to college without worrying about how he was going to pay for it. It was about the Whiskey Highway, the place that had been my family’s lifeline for as long as I could remember.

But at what cost? My happiness? My freedom? My sanity? Jake Seresin wasn’t just a jerk—he was a walking disaster, the kind of guy who’d make my life a living hell just because he could. And yet, here I was, seriously considering marrying him to save the people I loved.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “This is insane,” I muttered to myself. “Absolutely, completely insane.”

But even as I said it, I knew what I was going to do. I didn’t want to. I didn’t like it. But I was going to do it anyway. For my family. For the life we’d built together.

“Mia, let’s go!” Lydia’s voice echoed through the store, sharp and commanding. “Daylight is wasting, and I’ve already called Brendan and told him about our weight situation. He’s agreed to literally squeeze you in for a 30-minute session!”

The store, which had been buzzing with the soft murmurs of other brides and their entourages, fell silent. I could feel the weight of their stares, even though the closed curtain of the fitting room. My cheeks burned with humiliation, and I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to steady my breathing.

Our weight situation.

As if my body was some kind of problem to be solved, a project for Lydia to manage. I glanced at the mirror in front of me, my reflection staring back with wide, panicked eyes. The dress was still half on, the zipper stuck somewhere around my ribs, the fabric clinging to me in all the wrong places. I looked like a caricature of a bride, and Lydia’s voice was the punchline.

Would it be a tragedy if I were to break a piece of the glass from the mirror and stab myself in the neck? The thought flashed through my mind, dark and unbidden, and I immediately shook my head, trying to dispel it. But the idea lingered, a morbid escape from the suffocating reality I was trapped in.

“Mia!” Lydia’s voice was closer now, her heels clicking against the floor as she approached the fitting room. “What’s taking so long? Brendan’s waiting, and I don’t have time for this!”

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “I’ll be out in a minute,” I called back, my voice steadier than I felt.

“Well, hurry up! We’ve got a schedule to keep!”

I stared at my reflection again, my hands trembling as I reached for the zipper. This wasn’t me. This wasn’t the life I wanted. But it was the life I’d agreed to, for the sake of my family, for the Whiskey Highway, for everything I’d fought so hard to protect.

And now I was stuck in a dress that didn’t fit, about to be dragged to a personal trainer because Lydia had decided my body was a problem.

“Mia!” Lydia’s voice was sharp, impatient, and I knew I couldn’t stall any longer.

“Coming!” I called back, my voice tight. I yanked the zipper down, the fabric falling away from my skin, and stepped out of the dress, leaving it pooled on the floor. I grabbed my jeans and t-shirt, pulling them on quickly, desperate to feel like myself again, if only for a moment.

As I stepped out of the fitting room, Lydia was waiting for me, her arms crossed and her expression one of thinly veiled irritation. “Finally,” she said, her tone clipped. “Let’s go. Brendan’s waiting.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, and followed her out of the store, the weight of her expectations pressing down on me with every step.

[oskea93]

I’m in my Godfather era once again! Cant wait for this one ❤️❤️

Amore Della Mia Vita

Michael Corleone x OC

Grace Corleone married Michael because he was a down to earth man who fought for his country. Big brown eyes and smile that could rival Rudolph Valentino. Never in a million years did she think the man who made her heart dip into her stomach from excitement would cause her stomach to twist in fear and disgust.

Rated M: Be advised that this story will contain storylines depicting sex, verbal assault, physical assault, sexism, cursing, mentions of miscarriage, violence, murder, etc. Please do not read if these trigger you in any way. The story will follow parts of the trilogy. I do not own any characters/scenes created by Mario Puzzo or Francis Ford Coppola.

Coming soon.

[oskea93]

✶ Weren't for the wind - Jake Seresin x OC ✶

Warnings: Story will contain situations involving arranged marriage, sexism, cursing, verbal and emotion abuse, sexual content, mentions of drugs and alcohol, miscarriages, etc.

A/N: So this is an idea i've had swirling around in my head for some time and I wanted to see how you all like it! I of course used an Ella Langley song because I feel like they go perfectly with any Glen fic! This one will be a little dark and heavy at times due to the nature. I'm loosely basing it off of the show Landman (very loosely)! There's gonna be a little mention of Top Gun but Jake is now out and back to Texas. Let me know what you think and if you would like to be tagged!

“If it weren’t for me signing that contract, you wouldn’t have the life you have today!” Jake’s fingers hastily ran through his growing hair, his voice rising with frustration. “You think you’re the one who made me who I am today? I never saw your ass out there at the crack of dawn drilling those holes and making sure no one got hurt or killed. You’ve got no idea what it took to build this empire.”

“Well, that’s funny because I never saw you out there either,” I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. My arms crossed tightly over my chest as I stepped closer to him, my eyes locked on his. “You simply sat up there in your nice, cozy office with your pretty blonde secretaries while others made the money for you. I got you to where you are today, sweetheart. Don’t you dare forget that.”

Jake’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. “Oh, so now you’re the brains behind it all? That’s rich. You think a few dinners and handshakes make you the mastermind? You were just the pretty face I brought along to seal the deal. Nothing more.”

My hands clenched into fists at my sides, the sting of his words cutting deeper than I cared to admit. “For a minute there, I actually thought this would work out,” I said, my voice quieter now but no less sharp. “I thought I could see myself being married to you for the rest of my life. But it’s apparent you only cared about the money and fame. You’ve got everyone from here to the Middle East trying to grab your attention, and I’m just the little old housewife who was forced to marry your dumb ass so you could set your claim to those grease pits sitting below our feet.”

Jake’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of something—guilt? regret?—passing across his face. But it was gone as quickly as it came. “Forced to marry me?” he scoffed. “Don’t act like you didn’t get something out of this too. You wanted the lifestyle, the security. Don’t pretend you’re some innocent victim here.”

I took a step back, my chest tightening. “You’re right,” I said, my voice trembling now. “I did want those things. But I also wanted you. Or at least, I thought I did. I thought there was more to you than the suits and the boardroom meetings. But I was wrong. You’re just hollow, Jake. All this wealth, all this power—it’s just a mask for the emptiness inside you.”

The room fell silent, the weight of my words hanging in the air between us. Jake stared at me, his face unreadable. For a moment, I thought he might say something—anything—to break the tension. But instead, he turned away, his shoulders stiff.

“You don’t know me,” he said finally, his voice low and cold. “You never did.”

“Maybe not,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I know enough to realize this isn’t what I want anymore.”

[oskea93]

Tis the Way the Wind Blows, Hummingbird (Two)

Caleb Sykes x OC Horizon universe

⚠️ Warning ⚠️ Story will contain moments of physical, sexual, emotional, and verbal abuse, cursing, murder, suicidal ideations, childbirth, scalping, death, etc. Please do not read if you are triggered by any of these warnings. If you've seen the film or just read about it online, you already know that Caleb is a bad guy. He will remain a bad guy throughout this story as well. He will not be liked and will be vile in every way. Just a heads up if you were looking for a happy Jamie story.

● If you would like to be tagged, please comment below ●

Taglist: @austinswhitewolf, @carriewritesblog, @isla-bell-blog, @jcbbby, @eve18ahs @ladysybilchronicles @yelchinweasleylothbrok

 The cold dirt scattered across the pine box like spiders in the lantern light, each clump landing with a muted thud that echoed in the silence of the night. My tears, once a torrential stream, had ceased, my eyes too sore and bloodshot to allow any more water to flow. The absence of a preacher was a deliberate choice, his family insisting that no good bible pusher was needed or wanted here. The death of my son—a young child, taken too soon—was not enough to warrant the blessing of God upon his delicate, lifeless form.

As I stood there, surrounded by the whispering pines, I felt the weight of the world pressing down on me. The air was thick with the scent of earth and pine, mingling with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Memories flooded my mind—his laughter, his innocent questions, his small hand in mine—and each one was a sharp stab to my heart.

The sky above was a deep, endless black, dotted with stars that seemed indifferent to the sorrow below. I longed for some sign, some indication that his spirit was at peace, but the heavens remained silent. In that moment, I realized that mourning is a solitary journey, one that each person must navigate in their own way.

The family gathered around, a mix of stoic faces and quiet sobs, sharing in the collective grief.  The young man who brought us together at this moment stood still, his head bowed, eyes fixed on the frozen ground. A storm of emotions raged within me—grief, anger, and a consuming desire for justice. I imagined reaching out to him, making him feel the unbearable sorrow that now defined my existence. It was a dark thought, one born from the depths of my despair. I wanted him to feel what my child felt – the pain from repeated blows to his soft skin. The pain as his head hit against the rocks below. The pressures of this forsaken family finally lifting as Jesus called him home – A son for a son – The mourning weight sitting heavy on Junior and Hannah’s hearts as their son’s body is lowered into the ground, a cross made of sticks marking his existence.

Caleb couldn’t bear to witness the burial of his only son—not that he had much to do with Rory in the first place. The weight of his absence felt heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the grief that enveloped me. After Rory’s last breath slipped from his lungs, Caleb stormed out of his mother’s cabin, rage and despair spilling forth in a torrent of curse words that blasted into the wind. He rode off into the hills, a silhouette against the fading light, leaving behind a family shattered by loss.

Four days had passed, and still, there was no sign of my husband. Each moment stretched into eternity, filled with an anxiety that gnawed at my insides. I worried that Caleb’s volatile nature would lead him down a path from which there would be no return. It was all too possible that he would end up in a pine box next—his mouth and actions often getting the better of him, dragging him into gun and knife fights with locals and passersby. He had a knack for igniting conflict, and his own brother and father sometimes harbored grudges against him, their tempers flaring in the shadow of family loyalty.

The day of the incident remained fresh in my mind, a haunting recollection that replayed like a broken record. Caleb’s gruff voice echoed in my ears as he brushed off the actions of Robert and Junior, dismissing their cruelty with a careless wave.

“It’s Rory’s initiation to becoming a strong Sykes man,” he had said, his tone laced with an arrogance that made my blood boil.

At that moment, I wanted to shake him, to make him see the truth that he was blind to—the truth that our boy had been just that: a boy, caught in a twisted legacy that had no room for innocence.

Poor Rory couldn’t last seven years in this family, never standing a chance to become the strong leader Mama Sykes dreamed of him becoming. The weight of those expectations had been unbearable, and instead of nurturing the boy’s spirit, they had crushed it under the relentless demands of a lineage built on brutality and power. I had watched as Caleb turned a blind eye to the very real pain our son endured, unable to recognize the damage being done in the name of tradition.

The men that had dedicated themselves to the Sykes family kept their eyes from meeting my own as Rory’s casket became harder to see, soon swallowed by the earth in a final, unforgiving embrace. Each shovelful of dirt felt like a weight pressing down on my chest, a tangible representation of the grief that threatened to consume me whole. I wanted to believe in my heart that they knew this was wrong—that they felt the injustice of a child’s life being extinguished in such a brutal and senseless manner. I searched their faces for a flicker of empathy, a sign that beneath the hardened exteriors, they grappled with the weight of this tragedy. But their expressions were stoic, their eyes averted, as if looking at me would somehow bind them to the pain I felt. I wanted to believe that just one of them was a civil man, someone simply caught in the web of the Sykes family, working for a paycheck, hoping to earn enough to get the hell out of this cursed town. But that was a hard thing to do once you were tied to a family such as the Sykes—a family steeped in violence and enmity, where loyalty was often forged in blood.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” The preacher spoke softly as he passed by, his words barely registering in my mind. I stayed silent, my eyes never leaving the final resting place of my little boy, Rory. The world felt distant and muted, as if all sound had been swallowed by the earth that now held him.

A part of me was consumed by grief, but another part was gripped by fear for mine and Emily’s safety—my daughter’s safety above all. Now that Rory was gone, Emily was the last of Caleb’s children. Her existence was a delicate thread in the tapestry of our family, one that didn’t align with Mama Sykes's ambitions.

Female offspring were looked at like crumbs under your shoes – only good for two things – housework and being a mother. Emily didn’t have anything to offer the Sykes family in their eyes – Old man Sykes even questioned if Caleb was her father since the men in the family only produced male heirs. He didn’t take into account that Jr had a daughter a year or two before Emily was born.

“It’s getting late.”

Jr’s gruff voice quaked my nerves as he towered over my side. I could feel the weight of his presence, a shadow that loomed larger than life, making me shuffle slightly to the left, putting space between our frames. With every inch I moved, I felt my heart race, an instinctive reaction to the danger that seemed to seep from him like poison.

“Snow’ll be startin’ up soon again.” His tone was as cold as the air around us, a reminder of the harsh reality we faced. The winter chill clawed at my skin, a physical manifestation of the dread that filled my chest. I glanced toward the horizon, where dark clouds gathered ominously, threatening to blanket the world in white once again.

“I’d rather stay here where my son is than go with any of you monsters.” My voice was hoarse with pain, each word heavy with the grief that had settled into my bones. I could feel the ground beneath me, solid and unyielding, offering a strange comfort amidst the turmoil. Rory was here, in this sacred place, and I refused to abandon him, even if it meant facing the wrath of those I feared.

With my eyes darting in Jr’s direction, I continued, “I would do such a thing if I didn’t have Emily—” My heart twisted at the thought of my daughter, vulnerable and innocent, caught in the crossfire of a family steeped in violence. “Don’t trust her with the likes of you.” The words came out sharper than I intended, but they were laced with a protective instinct that burned fiercely within me.

Jr’s expression darkened, and I could see the anger flicker in his eyes, a storm brewing beneath the surface. “You think you can keep her safe just by standing here?” he shot back, his voice low and menacing. “You’re only prolonging the inevitable. The world out there is cruel, and it won’t wait for you to grieve.”

I squared my shoulders, defiance igniting within me. “And neither will I,” I replied, feeling the strength of my resolve grow. “I won’t let you take her away from me, not after everything Rory suffered. I refuse to let this family destroy another child.”

Jr took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. “You’re making a mistake by digging your heels in like this. You don’t understand the danger you’re in. We’re not the ones you should be afraid of,” he sneered, his words dripping with a venom that made my skin crawl.

But I held my ground, staring him down, the fear in my heart transforming into a fierce determination. “I know exactly what I’m afraid of, Jr. It’s men like you who’ve bred this violence, who’ve silenced the innocent. I will protect Emily, even if it costs me everything.”

He let out a snide chuckle, a sound that grated against my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “You think it’s me that’s the danger? Have you met your deranged husband? Caleb is the one you need to be worried about. We’re just here in case he can’t get things in order—which somethin’ tells me that’s what’s happenin’ with you.”

A surge of anger flared within me, but I took a breath to steady myself. I shook my head slightly, trying to maintain my composure despite the rising tide of emotions. “Caleb is only the man he is today because of you, Mama Sykes, and that waste of breath man you call your father. You are the ones that created the monster that Caleb has become.”

The air between us crackled with tension, each word hanging heavy in the cold, wintry atmosphere. Jr's sneer faded slightly, replaced by an expression that bordered on disbelief. It was as if I had struck a nerve, laying bare the truth he preferred to ignore.

“You think you know everything, don’t you?” Jr shot back, his voice low and dangerous. “You think you can lay the blame at our feet and wash your hands clean? You’re just as much a part of this as he is. You let him become what he is.”

I felt a fire ignite within me, fueled by the injustice of his words. “I didn’t create this! I fought against it every day. I tried to show Caleb that there was another way, one that didn’t involve violence and brutality. But every time I reached out, he pushed me away, pulled deeper into the muck of your family’s legacy.”

Jr crossed his arms, a smug expression creeping back onto his face. “And you think you can save him? You think you can change what’s been etched in his bones? He’s Sykes through and through, just like you’re trying to keep Emily from being one of us. You’re fighting a losing battle.”

I felt my heart pound in my chest, each beat echoing my resolve. “If I have to fight, then I will. I won’t let this family consume my daughter the way it did Rory. She deserves better than the twisted heritage you offer.”

His laughter was harsh, filled with a mix of mockery and disdain. “You’re delusional if you think you can protect her from what she is. This family runs deep, and blood tells a story that can’t be rewritten. You’re just delaying the inevitable.”

The snow started to fall around us, thickening the air with its chill. I could feel the weight of his words sinking in, but I refused to let despair take hold. “Maybe so,” I replied, my voice steady. “But I’ll fight tooth and nail to give her a chance to write her own story. To break free from the chains that bind us to this legacy of pain.”

Jr stepped closer, his presence suffocating, but I held my ground. “You think you can change the narrative? You think you can just walk away from this? This is who we are. It’s in our blood, and it’s in yours now too.”

“Not for much longer,” I shot back, feeling the heat of my determination rise. “I refuse to let this cycle continue. If I can’t save Caleb, then I’ll make sure Emily knows she can choose a different path—one away from all of this.”

For a moment, the air was still, the weight of our words hanging between us like a heavy fog. I could see the flicker of uncertainty in Jr’s eyes, a crack in his armor that gave me a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he realized that the path he was on led only to destruction.

But that flicker was quickly extinguished as he sneered once more. “Good luck with that. You’ll need it. Just remember, I’m not the real threat here.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the swirling snow, my heart racing with a mix of fear and defiance. I knew the battle ahead would be arduous, but I was prepared to face whatever came my way. For Emily, for Rory, and for the chance to break free from the chains that had bound us for far too long…

We sat in silence at the long dinner table located in the main Sykes home. The atmosphere was thick with tension, punctuated by the occasional clinking of cutlery and the low murmur of conversations. Most of the chatter flowed between Jr and James, their voices rising and falling like a tide, while I kept my eyes trained on the plate in front of me. I stole glances at Emily frequently, making sure she was okay amidst the oppressive air that hung over us.

“Somethin’ the matter with my cookin’?”

Mama’s gruff voice cut through the haze, slicing into my thoughts like a knife. I looked up, locking eyes with her, the weight of her gaze heavy and scrutinizing.

“Pardon?” I replied, feigning ignorance, though my heart sank at the confrontation.

“You heard me, girl. You’re the only one not eatin’—afraid I did somethin’ to it?” Her tone was accusatory, a challenge wrapped in a veneer of casualness.

I felt a knot tighten in my stomach, the implications of her words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. “No, Mama,” I said carefully, choosing my words with the precision of a tightrope walker. “I’m just... not very hungry right now.”

Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of skepticism dancing behind them. “Not hungry? Or just tryin’ to make a point?”

The fork in my hand dropped into the plate, the loud clatter causing everyone to stop and stare between us. “I just buried my son today – sorry that I’m not clawin at the plate to eat your home cookin.”

Her eyes glowed with rage. “You watch your damn tone, Elizabeth.” The air crackled with tension as Hannah's words sliced through the room, leaving a palpable silence in their wake.

“This is not the time or place for your foolery, Elizabeth,” James interjected, his voice trying to bridge the widening chasm between the two women. “You actin’ like today hasn’t been hard for all of us. Hannah should be the one actin’ out like this; she raised that boy from the time he was an infant.” His eyes darted nervously between them, hoping to defuse the situation before it escalated further.

Hannah’s gaze bore into mine, a fierce intensity that made it hard to breathe. “You think you understand, don’t you? You have no idea what it’s like to lose a child,” she spat, her voice trembling with both grief and anger. “You act as if you’re the victim here, but you’re the one who’s torn this family apart.”

“Well, it’s kind of hard to take care of your son when he’s pulled from your fingers, screaming and crying, and brainwashed to think that this woman—” I extended my finger in her direction, my voice shaking with emotion, “is your real mother and that I, the one who carried and birthed him, was nothing but a milk wench.” The weight of my words hung heavy in the air, but I felt a surge of defiance rising within me.

“You could never provide him the guidance he needed to be a true Sykes man,” Hannah shot back, her tone dripping with venom. Her words hit their mark, sharp and deliberate, each one designed to wound. “Look how you are with that youngin’ there—” She gestured toward Emily, who sat quietly in her crib, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around her. “Not even a year old, and you’re makin’ her ashamed of this family. Caleb should’ve left your ass in that whorehouse he found you in all those years ago. Be better off for this family—maybe then, Rory would still be alive—not havin’ you for a mama.”

The air in the room seemed to disappear. My chest tightened, the edges of my vision blurring as the name—Rory—slammed into me like a freight train. She had no right. No damn right. My pulse thundered in my ears, drowning out the muffled gasps and murmurs of the room. I was barely aware of my body moving until it happened.

My fist collided with her cheek, a sickening crack reverberating through the air as Hannah stumbled backward, her mouth agape in shock. Her skirt flew up as she hit the ground hard, knocking over a chair in her descent. Gasps erupted from the children huddled in the corner, their screams mingling with the angry shouts of the men around the table.

“You bitch!” I snarled, lunging toward her again, years of pent-up anger and humiliation surging to the surface like a dam finally breaking. The words she’d said, the cruelty of them, wouldn’t stop ringing in my head. Rory. Emily. That whorehouse. I was a storm, fists flying, nails clawing. I barely felt the sting of her hand catching my jaw in a wild swing as I pinned her down.

“Get off me, you crazy bitch!” Hannah shrieked, struggling beneath me as I landed another strike, my knuckles scraping against her cheekbone. The room was chaos now—women yelling, children crying, men shouting in sharp, commanding tones I couldn’t hear over the roar in my head.

The sound of a shotgun going off ripped through the room like a thunderclap, freezing us all in place. My breath hitched in my throat as strong arms yanked me backward, the grip bruising and unrelenting. My body twisted, thrashing against the hold, but whoever had me wasn’t letting go.

“What in the hell is going on here!” Caleb’s voice thundered through the room, cutting through the chaos like a razor. His wild eyes scanned the scene, the tension in his jaw visible even beneath the glow of the dim light. He looked from me, to Hannah, to the overturned chair and the scattered plates on the table.

Mama Sykes pushed past her son with a speed that belied her age, her face twisted with fury. She knelt beside Hannah, who was cradling her face, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. “Your crazy wife went all to hell all over Hannah for no Goddamn reason!” Mama Sykes spat, her voice trembling with rage as she looked up at Caleb. “She’s unhinged, Caleb. I told you this. I told you she wasn’t fit for this family. Not before, and sure as hell not now.”

I wiped at the blood dripping from my split lip, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. My hands were shaking, my knuckles raw and stinging. I could feel every eye in the room on me, the weight of their judgment pressing down like a vice. But all I could see was Caleb.

Hannah whimpered as Junior stepped forward, his face dark with fury. He paused briefly to glance at his wife before turning his full attention to Caleb. “You better get a handle on your wife, brother,” Junior growled, his voice low and dangerous. “’Cause if you don’t, there’s gonna be a problem.”

The room fell deathly silent. The unspoken threat hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Caleb’s jaw worked as he looked from me to Junior, then back again. His hands flexed at his sides, his knuckles turning white as if he was trying to hold onto whatever control he had left.

“I ain’t gonna say it again, Caleb,” Junior said, taking another step forward. “Handle. Her.”

"Get the baby, Elizabeth." Caleb's voice was low as his eyes stayed connected with Junior's. The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife.

I stood there for a moment, looking between the brothers. Junior's face was flushed red with anger, his fists clenched at his sides. Caleb, on the other hand, seemed eerily calm, but I could see the storm brewing behind his eyes. The air crackled with unspoken threats and years of pent-up resentment.

Mama Sykes stood in the corner, her weathered hands wringing her apron, eyes darting nervously between her sons.

Snapping out of my daze, I pushed past Mama Sykes, my heart pounding in my chest. Emily was in her makeshift bassinet, oblivious to the tension surrounding her. I gathered her in my arms, feeling her warmth against my chest as I all but ran out the wooden door.

The cool night air hit my face as I stepped onto the porch, a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside. I could hear the commotion of the bull-headed brothers scuffling as I closed the shack door behind me. The sound of breaking glass and muffled shouts filtered through the thin walls.

Cradling Emily close, I hurried down the rickety steps and across the yard to the small shack we called home.

I set Emily down in the crib, tucking a worn quilt around her for warmth. She stirred slightly but didn't wake, her tiny fists curled up near her face. I envied her peaceful slumber, wishing I could be as blissfully unaware of the chaos unfolding.

Sinking down onto the old rocking chair beside the crib, I let out a shaky breath. The shouting from the house had grown louder, punctuated by the sound of something heavy falling or being thrown. I closed my eyes, trying to block it out, wondering how many more times we'd have to endure this cycle of violence and reconciliation.

A minute and some change had passed before Caleb stalked over the threshold. His blonde hair tangled under his hat, blood noticeably dripping from his lip. The dim light of the entryway cast shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the dark, stormy look in his eyes.

I hesitated for a moment, my heart racing as I took in his disheveled appearance. His clothes were rumpled, and there was a tear in the sleeve of his hide jacket.

"Are you okay?" I finally managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper. I took a tentative step forward, unsure whether to offer comfort or maintain my distance. The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife.

Caleb's gaze snapped to mine, his blue eyes clouded with a mix of emotions I couldn't quite decipher. Anger? Pain? Fear? He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, his jaw clenching tightly. A drop of blood fell from his chin, landing on the worn wooden floor with a soft pat.

He was silent as he walked through the small home - the tension in the air grew thicker with each step he took, his boots leaving muddy prints on the worn floorboards. The warm glow of the fireplace did little to soften the hard lines of his face or the dangerous energy radiating from him.

"Caleb?" I called out, my voice a mix of concern and growing apprehension. Something was very wrong, and the pit in my stomach deepened with each passing second.

Suddenly, there was a blur of movement. The flash of his ringed hand caught the firelight as his backhand collided with my flushed cheek. I'll continue the scene with your added details:

I could feel the skin sliced open from where his ring had dragged across my skin. The sharp, stinging pain bloomed across my cheek, and I tasted the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. Stunned, I stumbled backward, my hand instinctively reaching up to touch the wound.

"You just never know when to shut your damn mouth!" Caleb roared, his voice a thunderous mix of rage and frustration. His eyes, once warm and familiar, now burned with an intensity that frightened me to my core.

"I'm not the one who started it!" My courage stepping forward despite the throbbing pain in my cheek. "Your mother and Hannah started all of this – everything that happened with Rory is thei-"

"I'm sick and fucking tired of hearing about Rory!" Caleb's voice raised to a roar, cutting me off mid-sentence. His face contorted with a mix of rage and pain. "Rory is dead and there's nothing you or I can do about it! He's better off buried in that ground than being up here and having to deal with the shit of being a Sykes man."

His words hit me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs. How could he speak so callously about his own child? The grief and anger that had been simmering inside me for so long suddenly boiled over.

My body shook with anger, my voice rising to match his. "How can you say that about your son? You're flesh and blood that you didn't even bother to see on his last day on this god forsaken rock!"

The air between us crackled with tension. Caleb's words about Rory being "better off" dead hung heavy in the room, a testament to the deep-seated pain and dysfunction that ran through the Sykes family.

I could see the muscle in Caleb's jaw working as he clenched his teeth, his eyes flashing dangerously. But I was beyond caring about his anger now.

"You weren't there, Caleb," I continued, my voice breaking. "You weren't there when he needed you most. And now you have the audacity to say he's better off dead? What kind of father are you?"

"Rory was never ours, Elizabeth." Caleb's voice dropped low, a dangerous edge to his words. "Mama was never gonna let you be in that boy's life and there's a reason for that." His frame now towered over mine, using his height to intimidate. "Look at the way you're raising Emily –" His skinny finger pointed accusingly towards where our daughter slept. "Coddling and loving on her every moment – that girl isn't gonna have a chance in hell when she finds her way out of this holler."

The implication behind his words sent a chill down my spine. The revelation about Rory not being "ours" hung in the air, raising a multitude of questions I was too angry to process at the moment. Instead, I focused on his attack on my parenting.

"Are you saying that I'm a bad mother because I love my children?" We were toe-to-toe at this point, neither of us backing down. My voice dripped with venom as I spat out, "I'm sorry I don't want my children to be shells of humans like your whole goddamn family."

The tension between us was palpable, years of resentment and family secrets bubbling to the surface. Caleb's words about Rory and his criticism of my parenting Emily revealed a deep-seated conflict in values and a disturbing family dynamic.

I could see the muscle in Caleb's jaw working, his eyes narrowed dangerously. The mention of his family being "shells of humans" clearly struck a nerve, but I was beyond caring about his feelings at this point.

"You don't understand, Elizabeth," Caleb growled, his breath hot on my face. "This world ain't kind, especially not to folks from these parts. Coddling don't prepare you for what's out there."

"And what? Neglect and emotional abuse does?" I shot back, refusing to be cowed. "Is that the Sykes family secret to success?"

A sinister chuckle slipped past his lips. “Coming from the girl who’s parents died because they were too damn stupid to survive out in those mountains and leaning on the trust of some old drunkard to take care of you.” His knees bent so we were eye to eye, his breath hot and tainted with malice. “I’m sure your folks would be happy to know their sweet daughter turned out to be a filthy whore that every fool on their way west buried their cock in before leaving town.”

I could feel tears prick my eyeline, but I fought them back, unwilling to give him the satisfaction. “No one was ever desperate like you, darling husband.” His eyes narrowed at my statement, the tension between us thick enough to slice through.

“You’re just another pussy that kept my dick warm—” His breath hit my ear, hot and biting. The words hung in the air, thick with contempt. “If it were up to me—” He paused, letting the silence stretch, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I woulda gotten rid of you and that baby, and no one would’ve ever known or cared.”

A chill ran down my spine, the reality of his words sinking in like a heavy stone. I turned slightly, meeting his gaze, searching for any hint of remorse, but all I saw was cold indifference. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in, as I struggled to find my voice amidst the chaos of my thoughts.

“Do you really think that’s all I am to you?” I managed to whisper, my heart racing. “Just a warm body?”

He scoffed, dismissing my question with a wave of his hand. “You’re nothing more than a distraction.”

[oskea93]

Please, please use the “read more” feature when posting fics, especially long ones/chapters.

It was late when I posted it and I totally forgot.

[oskea93]

Kansas Anymore (4)

Tyler Owens x OC

Summary: In which Riley Owens, the ex-wife of the infamous Tornado Wrangler, has 36 hours to come to terms if moving to a whole new country with their small daughter is something she truly wants to do.

Warnings: Cursing, angst, suggested smut, fluff. ✶ Chapter One ✶ ✶ Chapter Two ✶ ✶ Chapter Three ✶

■ A/N: You guys are amazing! I just want to say thank you so much for loving this story and following the tale of Riley and Tyler ❤️ ■ Taglist is available - just drop a comment! Would love to hear your thoughts, questions, or maybe just drop by to say hello! Can't wait to hear from y'all

Word Count: 11491 ( super long flashback!)

TL:  @ellesmythe @18lkpeters @hookslove1592, @djs8891, @smoothdogsgirl @queenslandlover-93 @imjustamehbleh @love2write2626 @lt-jakeseresin @starcrossedtrek @kmc1989 @lauraseresin @freyagallileaevans @silscintilla

November, 2022

“Nicholas needs those prints on his desk no later than six tonight so he can get them sent to the designers in Japan.”

I nodded my head as my assistant rambled off the various tasks that awaited me as we walked back to my office. “Neve is asking that you meet her for lunch tomorrow around noon and then you have that meeting with the fashion head at the London branch at 2:45.”  

As we rounded the corner to my office, the rhythmic click of my heels against the polished floor came to a sudden halt. My breath hitched, my heart skipping a beat as my eyes landed on the uninvited and unannounced visitor who had made himself far too comfortable on my couch. There he was, lounging as though he owned the place, one arm draped casually along the backrest, the other holding a phone he was in the process of slipping into his jacket pocket. 

His sharp, green eyes found mine immediately, lighting up with a glint of amusement. A slow, knowing smile crept across his face, curling at the edges like he had been waiting for this exact moment. If he noticed the way my grip tightened on the folder in my hands, he didn’t let it show. 

“Hello, darlin’,” he drawled, his rich voice filling the room with a warmth that felt entirely out of place in the cool, professional space of my office. 

I didn’t move. Couldn’t, really. My brain was still processing the audacity of him sitting there, legs crossed, exuding the kind of confidence that bordered on arrogance. The faint scent of leather and something smokier—cologne, perhaps—lingered in the air, mixing with the faint hum of the heating system. 

“I wasn’t aware anyone was waiting for you, Ri—” Charlotte’s voice faltered, her nervousness evident as her eyes darted quickly between the two of us. “Clara didn’t mention anything about a meeting or a visitor.”

“It’s fine, Charlotte.” My response was clipped, my tone distracted as I glanced toward Tyler, who stood there with a self-satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “If you can just give me a minute to deal with this—” I gestured toward him, my hand vaguely waving in his direction, as though dismissing an irritating inconvenience.

“Deal with me?” Tyler interjected, his voice sharp with mock indignation. “Gotta handle me like I’m some dog and not her husband.” His sarcastic tone dripped with bitterness as he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Not like we weren’t together for seven years or anything.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened considerably as the weight of his words sank in. “This is your husband?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper, her gaze flitting back to me, searching for confirmation and clarity.

I turned sharply to face Charlotte, who now looked as though she'd accidentally walked into a war zone. Her fingers hovered nervously over the clipboard she always carried. The poor girl was still new, and this was far from the kind of situation I wanted her to deal with on a Tuesday afternoon.

“Yes, Charlotte,” I said briskly, trying to maintain my composure. “This... is my husband. Ex-husband, technically.”

Tyler’s smirk widened as he leaned back comfortably on the couch, his arms stretched along the top of it like he owned the place. “Ex-husband, current headache. You know, same difference.”

I shot him a glare before turning back to Charlotte, who looked as if she were trying to decide between fleeing or melting into the floor. “Why don’t you take an early coffee break,” I suggested with a tight smile. “I can handle this.”

“But the prints—” she started, glancing between Tyler and me like she was weighing whether leaving me alone with him would be a mistake.

“I’ll have them done on time,” I interrupted, my tone firm. “Just give me a minute.”

Charlotte hesitated for only a second longer before nodding and scurrying off down the hall, her clipboard clutched protectively to her chest. Once she was out of earshot, I turned my full attention to Tyler, who was now making himself at home by casually flipping through one of the glossy fashion portfolios on the coffee table.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, crossing my arms.

“Good to see you too, darlin’,” he said, not bothering to look up as he flipped another page. “I like what you’ve done with the office. Very... you. Cold, professional, and just a little intimidating.”

“Cut the crap, Tyler,” I snapped. “How did you even get past security? Last I checked, my assistant doesn’t schedule appointments for ghosts from my past.”

He finally set the portfolio down, his expression softening just enough to make me suspicious. “Relax. I told the guy at the front desk that I was here to surprise my wife. Guess they’re suckers for a good romance.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “Romance? That’s rich, coming from you.”

His smile faltered, just for a second, but it was enough to remind me that underneath all his bravado, Tyler was as human as the rest of us. Not that I was about to let him off the hook.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I pressed. “Why are you here?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked up at me. For a moment, he seemed almost... serious. “I needed to see you.”

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, I sighed and moved behind my desk, needing the physical barrier between us. “If this is about the divorce papers, I already signed them. You should’ve gotten them weeks ago.”

“It’s not about the papers,” he said quietly.

“Then what?” My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care. “Because unless this is about something important, I really don’t have time for whatever game you’re playing.”

“Would it be bad for me to say that I fucking miss you? That I miss my fucking kid?” His voice cracked slightly, the anger bubbling up but laced with something raw—pain. He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident in the way his shoulders rose and fell with heavy breaths. “I mean, when you take a guy’s daughter away from him, make it near impossible to see her in person, and then act like I’m the bad guy for feeling this way, what do you expect? You can’t blame a guy for trying to see his own kid. For trying to see the woman he—” He stopped himself, closing his eyes for a second as if steadying his resolve. “The woman he loves. But obviously, she doesn’t love him back.”

His words hit like a series of punches, each one sharper than the last. I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, more for protection than defiance, my nails digging into my skin as I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “Tyler, this isn’t fair,” I said quietly, trying to keep my voice steady even though I could feel the cracks forming. “You don’t get to just show up here and make this about you.”

“Make this about me?” He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “How the hell is this about me? This is about her. About the little girl who barely gets to see her dad. About the family we had—” His voice broke on the word, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to mask the vulnerability that had slipped through. “The family we were supposed to have.”

I felt my chest tighten, guilt mixing with anger in a way that made it hard to breathe. “You think this is easy for me?” I shot back, my voice rising despite my best efforts to stay calm. “You think I wanted things to end up like this? That I wanted to—” My voice caught, and I had to pause, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to spill. “You don’t know what it’s like, Tyler. To feel like you’re constantly the one holding everything together while someone else gets to just… walk away.”

“Walk away?” His voice was louder now, the anger fully surfacing as he took a step closer. “You think I walked away? You think I wanted to lose everything? To lose you? To lose her?” His green eyes burned into mine, the weight of his words settling heavily between us. “I didn’t walk away, Riley. You pushed me out. You built a wall so high that I couldn’t climb it, no matter how hard I tried.”

I shook my head, unable to look at him, because if I did, I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep the tears at bay. “This isn’t the time, Tyler,” I murmured, my voice barely audible. “This isn’t the place.”

“When is it ever going to be the time, huh?” he challenged, his voice rising again. “When are we ever going to talk about this? About us? Or is this just how it’s going to be? You pretending like I don’t exist, like I’m some stranger who doesn’t have the right to see his own family?”

“You don’t get to stand here and act like you’re the victim,” I snapped, the frustration spilling over despite my best efforts to keep it contained. “You don’t get to show up out of nowhere and throw this all in my face, like I’m the one who ruined everything.”

“Then who did, Riley?” he shot back, taking another step closer. “Because it sure as hell wasn’t just me.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. I didn’t have an answer—not one that I could say out loud, anyway. Because the truth was, he wasn’t entirely wrong. But admitting that felt like opening a door I wasn’t sure I’d be able to close again.

Tyler let out a bitter sigh, running a hand down his face as if trying to collect himself. “I just… I just want to see her,” he said, his voice softer now, the anger giving way to something more vulnerable. “I just want to be her dad. That’s all I’m asking for. Is that really too much?”

“It’s not up to me to decide—that’s what the courts are for, and that’s what the lawyers are going to discuss in a couple of weeks.” My voice was steady, though I could feel the strain in my chest as I spoke. I didn’t want this conversation, not here, not now. “I’ve never stopped her from talking to you, Tyler—”

“It’s not the same as seeing her in person, Riley!” he snapped, his voice rising before he caught himself. He glanced around quickly, realizing we were in a public space, and lowered his tone, though the frustration still simmered in every word. “Seeing her on a computer screen is *not* the same as seeing her in person. You know that. I’m not going to let her grow up without a dad—no matter how many miles are between us.”

I sighed, trying to keep my composure, but his words hit me in places I didn’t want to acknowledge. “You think I don’t know that?” I hissed, leaning in slightly so our conversation wouldn’t draw the attention of the people nearby. “Do you think this is what I wanted? For her to have a relationship with her dad through a screen? For us to be having this fight in the first place?”

“Then why?” he demanded, his voice lower now but no less intense. “Why does it feel like I’m the only one fighting for her? For us? Why does it feel like I’m the one who has to jump through every goddamn hoop just to be a part of her life?”

“That’s not fair,” I shot back, my voice trembling slightly, though I wasn’t sure if it was from anger, guilt, or a mix of both. “Do you think this is easy for me, Tyler? Do you think I wanted to uproot her life, to make her live in two different worlds? I didn’t make these decisions lightly, and you know that.”

“Yeah? Well, it doesn’t feel like you thought about me at all,” he said bitterly, shaking his head as he leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “Or about what it would do to her, growing up without both of her parents in the same place. You say you didn’t make the decision lightly, but it sure feels like you didn’t think about anyone but yourself.”

I flinched at his words, even though I tried not to let it show. “That’s not fair,” I repeated, though it felt weaker this time, less convincing even to myself. “You don’t know what it was like for me. You don’t know what I had to weigh, what I had to sacrifice—”

“And you think I didn’t sacrifice anything?” he interrupted, his eyes narrowing as he leaned forward slightly, his voice growing more intense despite the quiet. “You think I didn’t lose everything the day you left? You took her, Riley. You didn’t just take my daughter, you took my family, my home, my—” He stopped, clenching his jaw as if the words were too heavy to say out loud. “You made the decision for both of us. You didn’t even give me a chance to fight for us.”

“I gave you plenty of chances, Tyler,” I said sharply, my own anger bubbling to the surface now. “But you didn’t fight then. You didn’t fight for us when it mattered.”

His face fell, and for a moment, I thought I’d managed to shut him down. But then he let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he stood up fully, towering over me. “That’s rich, Riley. That’s real rich. Blaming me for something that was just as much your fault as it was mine.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he held up a hand, cutting me off. “You know what? Forget it. I’m not here to argue with you about the past. I’m here for her. I don’t care what you think about me, or what you think I deserve. She deserves to have her dad in her life, not just on some damn screen. And I’m not going to stop fighting for that.”

“You think I want to keep her from you?” I said, my voice shaking now, the walls I’d built around myself beginning to crumble. “You think I want her to grow up without her dad? I’ve done everything I can to make this work, Tyler. I’ve tried to make it fair, to give you access to her even from a distance. But this—this isn’t just about what you want. It’s about her. It’s about what’s best for her.”

“And you think what’s best for her is growing up with her dad as a visitor in her life?”

I shook my head, exhaustion heavy in every movement. “I’m not going to continue this here. Not in my office. Not in front of all these people.” My voice was firm, but the weariness bled through despite my best efforts to keep it together.

Tyler didn’t even flinch. He stood there, arms crossed, his jaw set in a way that told me he wasn’t letting this go. “No,” he said, his voice calm but resolute, “but we are gonna continue it tonight when you get off.” He spoke as though it was a fact, not a request, his tone leaving no room for argument. “There’s a bar down in the lobby of my ho—”

“No,” I interrupted sharply, shaking my head and holding up a hand to stop him. “I’m not meeting you at some hotel, Tyler.”

“It’s not—” He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to keep himself calm. “It’s not about the hotel, Riley. It’s about having a damn conversation where we’re not surrounded by your coworkers or random strangers.” His voice softened slightly, but the frustration was still there, simmering just beneath the surface. “Somewhere neutral. Somewhere we can actually talk.”

I crossed my arms, my stance defensive, but it wasn’t enough to mask the crack in my resolve. “We don’t need to talk. Everything that needs to be said is being handled by lawyers. That’s the whole point of this process, Tyler.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Lawyers? Really? You’re going to let lawyers decide what’s best for our daughter? For us?” His green eyes burned into mine, and for a moment, I had to look away. “You can’t just hide behind them forever, Riley. At some point, you’re going to have to face me. You’re going to have to face this.”

“I’m not hiding,” I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended. “I’m doing what I have to do to protect her. To protect us. You think this is easy for me? That I enjoy dragging this out in a courtroom?”

“Then stop dragging it out!” he countered, his voice rising again before he quickly brought it back down, mindful of the people nearby. “Stop making this harder than it has to be. Just meet me halfway, Riley. That’s all I’m asking.”

I let out a shaky breath, my arms dropping to my sides as the weight of his words settled over me. “I have been meeting you halfway. I’ve done everything I can to make this work. But you—” I paused, swallowing hard as I fought to keep my emotions in check. “You’re the one who keeps pushing. You’re the one who keeps showing up like this, making demands, acting like you’re the only one who’s hurting.”

“You think I’m just making demands?” he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “You think I like showing up here, practically begging to be a part of her life? I’m trying, Riley. I’m trying so damn hard, and it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

“It’s not about me,” I said, my tone softening despite myself. “It’s about her. It’s always been about her.”

“Then start acting like it,” he said bluntly, the words cutting through me like a knife. “Because right now, all she’s seeing is two parents who can’t get their shit together. And if we don’t figure this out—if we don’t fix this—she’s the one who’s going to pay the price.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of his words settling heavily between us. I glanced around the room, noticing the curious glances from a few of my coworkers, and felt a fresh wave of anxiety wash over me. This wasn’t the place for this. He was right about that, at least.

“I’ll think about it,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m not promising anything.”

Tyler studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded, though it was more out of resignation than agreement. “You’ve got my number,” he said simply before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving me standing there with a knot in my stomach and a thousand emotions I didn’t know how to process…

I pulled the umbrella closed as I stepped through the door, the soft patter of rain fading into the background as the sound of muted voices and gentle laughter floated through the lobby. The warm light of the space contrasted sharply with the chill I’d carried in from outside, but it did little to ease the knot in my stomach. The signs leading to the bar area guided me forward, my footsteps slow and deliberate despite the tension urging me to turn around and leave.

From the time Tyler had walked out of my office earlier that day, up until twenty minutes before I finally left work, I’d been locked in an internal battle with myself. My thoughts had spun in circles, bouncing between anger, guilt, and reluctant understanding. I didn’t want to be here—didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he’d won, that his persistence had cracked my resolve. But deep down, I knew this wasn’t about winning or losing. It was about Caroline.

Tyler was her father. The man she adored. The man she looked up to with those bright, wide eyes that lit up at the sound of his voice. No matter how much history there was between Tyler and me, no matter how much bitterness lingered in the spaces we couldn’t seem to bridge, I couldn’t deny that bond. And I couldn’t deny that she needed him.

I never wanted to be one of those moms who cut their child’s father out of their life just because the relationship had ended on a sour note. It wasn’t fair—to him, to her, or to the family we’d once tried so hard to build. Caroline didn’t deserve to pay the price for our mistakes. She didn’t deserve to grow up carrying the weight of our failures.

This wasn’t about me. It couldn’t be. My relationship with Tyler, as complicated and fractured as it was, was between him and me. Caroline didn’t ask to be caught in the middle of it. She didn’t deserve to feel the tension that lingered in every strained phone call, every awkward handoff. And no matter how much easier it would have been to keep him at arm’s length, to shield myself from the pain of reopening wounds I hadn’t fully healed, I couldn’t do that to her.

As I stepped into the bar area, the soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses greeted me. The warm amber glow of the overhead lights made the space feel inviting, but it didn’t calm the nerves that twisted in my stomach. My eyes scanned the room, searching for him, and it didn’t take long to find him seated at a small table near the back, his posture tense but his gaze steady as he watched the door. He saw me before I saw him, and as our eyes met, I felt a flicker of something I couldn’t quite name. Relief? Sadness? Maybe both.

He stood as I approached, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. “You came,” he said simply, his voice low and careful, as though he didn’t want to push me away before the conversation even started.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak just yet. Instead, I slid into the chair across from him, setting my umbrella against the side of the table and brushing a few stray droplets of water off my coat. The silence between us was heavy, but not unbearable. It felt like an unspoken truce, a tentative step toward something neither of us could quite define.

“I wasn’t sure if you would,” he admitted after a moment, his gaze flickering down to the table before meeting mine again. “I half-expected you to blow me off.”

“Believe me, I thought about it,” I said, my tone dry but not unkind. “But this isn’t about you or me, Tyler. It’s about Caroline. It’s always about her.”

He nodded slowly, his expression softening as he leaned back in his chair. “I know. That’s why I asked you to come. I’m not trying to make this harder on you, Riley. I’m not trying to pick a fight. I just… I just want to figure out how to make this work.”

I studied him for a moment, searching for cracks in his sincerity, but I didn’t find any. He looked tired—more tired than I’d seen him in a long time—and the weight he carried was written in the lines around his eyes, in the way his shoulders sagged just slightly.

“I want that too,” I said quietly, surprising even myself with the admission. “I want her to have both of us in her life, Tyler. But this… this isn’t easy. You know that.”

He nodded again, his jaw tightening slightly as he processed my words. “I know it’s not easy. But nothing about this has been easy, Riley. Nothing about losing you, losing her, has been easy. I just…

“I don’t want to talk about us—that’s not why I came.” My voice was firm, though I could feel the tension in my chest, the strain of holding back everything I wanted to say but knew I couldn’t. I watched Tyler as he nodded slowly, his jaw tightening for a moment before he exhaled and leaned back in his chair.

“Fair enough,” he said after a beat, his voice quieter now, more measured. “I didn’t ask you here to dredge up the past, Riley. I just… I needed to talk to you. About Caroline” His eyes softened as he mentioned our daughter, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through the frustration that had been so present earlier in the day.

I nodded, forcing myself to stay grounded, to keep the walls I’d built firmly in place. “Good,” I replied, my tone clipped but not harsh. “Because that’s the only reason I’m here. For Caroline.”

Tyler’s lips twitched into something that was almost a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I figured as much,” he said, his voice tinged with a mix of resignation and understanding. “I know where we stand, Riley. I’m not delusional.”

I raised an eyebrow at that, leaning back slightly in my own chair. “Do you?” I asked, my tone sharper than I intended. “Because showing up at my office like that didn’t exactly scream ‘I know where we stand.’ It screamed ‘I’m going to bulldoze my way through every boundary you’ve tried to set.’”

He flinched slightly at my words but didn’t back down. Instead, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he met my gaze head-on. “I’m not trying to bulldoze anything. I’m just trying to be heard. You don’t make it easy, Riley. You’re so locked up in your own head, your own plans, that it feels like there’s no room for me in any of it.”

I clenched my jaw, my fingers curling into fists beneath the table as I fought to keep my emotions in check. “This isn’t about you,” I said quietly, though the edge in my voice was unmistakable. “It’s about her. It’s always been about her.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m here,” he shot back, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself and glanced around the bar. His tone dropped again, calm but laced with frustration. “Because I want to be a part of Caroline’s life, Riley. Not just some guy she talks to on a screen once a week. I want to see her. I want to know her. I want to be her dad.”

“You are her dad,” I said, my voice soft but firm. “No one is taking that away from you, Tyler. I’ve never tried to take that away from you.”

“Maybe not intentionally,” he said, his tone gentler now but no less pointed. “But that’s what it feels like, Riley. Every time I have to fight to see her, every time I have to go through you or a screen or a lawyer just to talk to my own daughter, it feels like I’m being pushed further and further away.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” I muttered, my voice low but steady, though I could feel the tension building in my chest. “But if you just saw things from my point of view, you’d understand where I’m coming from.”

Tyler’s jaw tightened, and he let out a quiet, bitter laugh as he leaned back in his chair. “Your point of view?” he repeated, his tone laced with frustration. “Riley, I’ve been *trying* to see things from your point of view for years. I’ve been trying to understand why you keep me at arm’s length, why you make it so damn hard for me to be a part of her life. But no matter how much I try, it feels like you’ve already made up your mind about me.”

“That’s not true,” I said quickly, though the words felt hollow even as I said them. “I haven’t made up my mind about you. This isn’t about you, Tyler. It’s about her. It’s about what’s best for Caroline.”

“And you think you’re the only one who knows what’s best for her?” he shot back, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself. He glanced around the bar, his shoulders stiff as he leaned forward again, lowering his voice. “You think I don’t want what’s best for her? That I don’t lie awake at night wondering if I’m doing enough, if I’m ever going to be enough for her?”

I looked away, unable to hold his gaze as his words hit far too close to home. “I know you love her,” I said quietly, my fingers curling into fists beneath the table. “I’ve never doubted that, Tyler. But love isn’t always enough. She needs more than that. She needs stability. She needs routine. And your job—”

“Here we go again,” he interrupted, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossing over his chest. “My job. The big, bad storm chaser who can’t possibly be a good dad because he doesn’t punch a clock in some office every day.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended. “Don’t twist this around to make me the bad guy. You know exactly what I mean. Your job is dangerous, Tyler. It’s unpredictable. You’re constantly on the road, constantly chasing storms and putting yourself in harm’s way. How am I supposed to feel comfortable with her being around that?”

“You think I’d ever put her in danger?” he asked, his voice low but cutting, his eyes narrowing as he leaned forward again. “You really think I’d be reckless with my own daughter? That I’d ever do anything to hurt her?”

“I’m not saying you’d do it on purpose,” I said, my voice trembling slightly, though I tried to keep it steady. “But accidents happen, Tyler. No matter how careful you are, no matter how much you plan, things can go wrong. And I’m not willing to take that risk with her.”

He stared at me for a long moment, his expression a mix of anger, hurt, and something else I couldn’t quite place. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair as he looked away. “You act like I don’t know that,” he said quietly, his voice softer now but no less intense. “Like I don’t think about that every damn day. You think I don’t know the risks? That I don’t lie awake at night thinking about all the ways things could go wrong? I know, Riley. I know better than anyone. But that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to be in her life.”

“I never said you didn’t deserve to be in her life,” I replied, my voice softening despite the frustration simmering beneath the surface. “I want you to be in her life, Tyler. I want her to have her dad. But it’s not that simple. You can’t just show up whenever it’s convenient for you and expect everything to fall into place.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” he said quickly, his tone defensive. “I’m trying, Riley. I’m trying to figure this out, to find a way to make this work. But you make it so damn hard. You keep putting up walls, and no matter how much I try to break through them, you just build them higher.”

I swallowed hard, his words hitting a nerve I didn’t want to acknowledge. “I’m not putting up walls,” I said quietly, though even I could hear the uncertainty in my voice. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for her. That’s all I’ve ever tried to do.”

“And you think I’m not?” Tyler asked, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself again. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as his eyes locked onto mine, our faces mere inches apart. His frustration simmered under the surface, but there was something else there too—something raw and desperate that made it hard to hold his gaze. “Remember our dream?” he continued, his voice quieter now, though no less intense. “Two or three kids, a house with a picket fence and a wraparound porch. We used to talk about it all the time, Riley. Don’t act like you don’t remember.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I blinked away the tears that were beginning to well up. I hated that he could still do this—still drag me back into the past, to a time when things were simpler, and the weight of reality hadn’t yet crushed the dreams we’d built together. “Of course, I remember,” I muttered, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady. “But that was a long time ago, Tyler. What we had is over.” I forced the words out, each one feeling heavier than the last, as though saying them out loud would somehow make them easier to believe.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said softly, his tone shifting as he reached across the table, his hand brushing against mine. The gesture was small, almost hesitant, but it was enough to send a jolt through me. My instinct kicked in before I could think, and I jerked my hand back as though his touch had burned me.

“Don’t,” I said sharply, the word cutting through the space between us like a blade. My heart was pounding in my chest, a mix of anger and something I couldn’t quite name. “You don’t get to do that, Tyler. You don’t get to sit here and act like we can just go back to the way things were. Like nothing happened. Like you didn’t—” I stopped myself, my voice catching as the words threatened to spill out. I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady myself before continuing. “What we had wasn’t enough. It’s not enough now, and it’s not going to be enough for Caroline either.”

His expression shifted, the hurt flashing across his face so briefly that I almost missed it. “That’s not fair,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t get to decide that. You don’t get to sit there and tell me that what we had wasn’t enough when it was enough for me. When it still is enough for me.”

I shook my head, my hands gripping the edge of the table as though it was the only thing keeping me grounded. “You don’t understand, Tyler,” I said, my voice cracking under the weight of my emotions. “You’re still holding onto this idea of us, this picture-perfect version of what we were supposed to be. But that version doesn’t exist anymore. It hasn’t for a long time.”

“Why not?” he asked, his voice louder now, his frustration boiling over. “Why doesn’t it exist anymore, Riley? Because you gave up on it? Because you decided it wasn’t worth fighting for?” He sat back in his chair, shaking his head as he let out a bitter laugh. “You talk about me not seeing things from your point of view, but have you ever tried to see things from mine? Have you ever stopped to think about what it felt like to lose you? To lose my family? To lose the life we were supposed to have?”

His words hit like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to argue, to defend myself, to tell him that he didn’t understand what it had been like for me either. But the truth was, he wasn’t entirely wrong. I had made the decision to leave. I had been the one to walk away, to tear apart the foundation of the life we’d built together. And even though I knew, deep down, that it had been the right decision, that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“I didn’t give up,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t walk away because I stopped loving you, Tyler. I walked away because I couldn’t keep pretending that love was enough. We were falling apart, and no matter how much we tried to hold on, we couldn’t stop it. I had to make a choice—for me, for her. And it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

Tyler stared at me, his jaw tightening as he absorbed my words. For a moment, I thought he might argue, might try to convince me that I was wrong. But then he let out a heavy sigh,

“This was a mistake,” I said abruptly, my voice shaking as I scrambled to my feet. The chair scraped loudly against the floor, drawing a few curious glances from nearby tables, but I didn’t care. I needed to get out of there. I could feel the walls closing in, the weight of Tyler’s words pressing down on me like a storm I couldn’t escape.

I grabbed my purse and umbrella in one swift motion, fumbling slightly as my hands trembled. “I shouldn’t have come,” I muttered, more to myself than to him. My heart was pounding in my chest, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. Anger, sadness, guilt—they all swirled together, making it impossible to think clearly.

“Riley, wait,” Tyler said, his voice steady but tinged with urgency as he stood too. His movements were slower, more measured, as though he was afraid that pushing too hard would make me bolt entirely. “Don’t do this. Don’t just walk away.”

I shook my head, avoiding his gaze as I clutched my purse tightly. “I can’t do this, Tyler,” I said, my voice cracking despite my best efforts to keep it together. “I thought we could have a conversation, a civil conversation, but it’s always the same with us. It always comes back to this—to you and me and everything that went wrong.”

“Because it’s not fixed, Riley!” he shot back, his own frustration bubbling to the surface. He ran a hand through his hair, his green eyes blazing as he looked at me. “We can’t just pretend it didn’t happen, like it doesn’t matter. You think we can just keep sweeping it under the rug and everything will magically work itself out? That’s not how this works. That’s not how we fix this.”

I let out a shaky laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Fix this?” I repeated, my voice bitter. “There is no fixing this, Tyler. What we had is broken. It’s been broken for a long time, and no amount of talking about dreams or the past or what could’ve been is going to change that.”

“It doesn’t have to be broken,” he said, his tone softening as he took a step closer. “Riley, I know things weren’t perfect—hell, I know I wasn’t perfect—but that doesn’t mean we can’t try. For us. For Caroline.”

I flinched at the mention of her name, the knot in my stomach tightening. “This isn’t about Caroline,” I said quietly, though the words felt like a lie even as I said them. “This is about you not letting go. About you refusing to accept that sometimes, love isn’t enough. Sometimes, it’s not enough to fix what’s broken.”

“I’m not refusing to let go,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “I’m refusing to give up. There’s a difference, Riley. I’m fighting for my family. Because I still believe we can make this work, even if you don’t.”

I stared at him, my chest tightening as his words hung heavy in the air between us. For a moment, I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that it was possible to go back, to rebuild what had been lost. But I knew better. I knew that some things couldn’t be undone, no matter how much you wished they could.

“This was a mistake,” I repeated, my voice steadier now as I took a step back, putting more distance between us. “I shouldn’t have come here, Tyler. I thought we could talk like adults, but it’s clear that we’re just going in circles. And I can’t keep doing this. I won’t.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but I shook my head, cutting him off before he could say anything. “Don’t,” I said firmly, my voice barely above a whisper. “Please, don’t. I can’t do this right now.”

“Can I at least see my daughter before I head back to Arkansas?” Tyler’s voice was quieter now, but the weight of his words lingered between us. He wasn’t asking out of anger this time, or frustration—it was something softer, more vulnerable, and it stopped me in my tracks. His green eyes, usually so sharp and unrelenting, were pleading now, searching mine for any sign of compromise.

I froze, my hand tightening around the strap of my purse as I stood just a few steps from the door, the rain still pattering faintly against the glass. My heart felt like it was caught in a vise, squeezed between the exhaustion of this entire conversation and the guilt that his request stirred up. I wanted to say yes, to tell him he could see her, to give him that moment with Caroline that I knew he was desperate for. But another part of me hesitated, unsure if giving in would open a door I wasn’t ready to walk through.

“Tyler…” I started, my voice wavering as I turned slightly to face him. “You know it’s not that simple.”

His jaw tightened, and he let out a quiet sigh, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back against the edge of the table. “It should be,” he said softly, his voice laced with a mix of sadness and frustration. “She’s my daughter too, Riley. I shouldn’t have to beg just to see her.”

I let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the conversation pressing down on me. “I’m not trying to keep her from you,” I said softly, though my voice carried the exhaustion of repeating the same thing over and over. “It’s just… it’s late, Tyler. She doesn’t even know you’re in town. You showing up now will only get her hopes up, and then, come tomorrow, when you go off with the wind again, she’s going to be another sad kid who has to deal with her family not being together.”

Tyler’s face twisted, a mixture of frustration and hurt flashing across his expression. He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped, running a hand through his hair as he took a step back. His hands clenched into fists at his sides before he let out a slow breath, forcing himself to loosen them. “That’s not fair,” he said finally, his voice low but steady. “You make it sound like I just swoop in and out of her life without a care in the world, like I don’t think about what it does to her. Do you think I don’t know how hard it is for her? Do you think I don’t feel it every time I have to say goodbye?”

“I’m not saying you don’t care,” I replied, my voice softer now but still firm. “I know you do. I know you love her more than anything. But that doesn’t change the fact that your life isn’t built for this, Tyler. It’s not built for her.”

He flinched at my words, and for a moment, I thought he might lash out, but instead, he just shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “You keep saying that,” he said, his tone quiet but sharp. “That my life isn’t built for her. That I’m not built for this. But do you-“

"Fine!" I snapped, my voice cutting through the hum of the city like a whip. My frustration with the entire conversation tipped over, spilling out before I could stop it. "Fine, you can come see her, Tyler. Because I’m done. I’m done having this same talk with you over and over again. I can’t do it anymore."

Tyler blinked, clearly caught off guard by my outburst. For a moment, he just stared at me, his lips parting slightly as though he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Then, slowly, his expression shifted, the anger and frustration melting into something softer. Something more cautious.

"Riley…" he started, his voice low, almost hesitant. He reached out as if to steady the situation, his hand hovering in the air between us. "I didn’t mean to push you like this. I just… I just want—"

"No," I interrupted, holding up a hand to stop him. "Don’t. Don’t try to justify it. I know what you want, Tyler. You’ve made that perfectly clear. And you know what? I want it too. I want Caroline to have her dad in her life. I want her to know you, to love you, to feel like she has both parents who care about her. But this…" I gestured vaguely between us, my hand trembling slightly. "This isn’t working. This constant back and forth, this fighting—this isn’t healthy for anyone. Least of all her."

Silence enveloped us for the first time tonight, thick and heavy, like the calm that settles just before a storm. Neither of us moved, the weight of everything we’d said hanging in the air between us. I could feel Tyler’s eyes on me, his gaze filled with something I couldn’t quite decipher—relief, frustration, desperation, maybe all of it at once. My own emotions were tangled beyond recognition, a mix of exhaustion, guilt, and an aching sadness I couldn’t seem to shake.

Finally, I broke the stillness, my voice low but firm. “You already have my address,” I said, not looking at him as I adjusted the strap of my purse on my shoulder. “Just meet me at my place, and we can go from there.”

I turned, my heels clicking softly against the floor as I started to walk away, eager to escape the intensity of his presence. But something made me stop, something deep in my chest that wouldn’t let me leave without one last parting word. Slowly, I turned back to face him, catching the faint flicker of surprise in his expression as I met his gaze head-on.

“You have an hour, Tyler,” I said, my tone sharper now, the edge of frustration creeping back in despite the exhaustion weighing me down. “I’d make it count if I were you.”

His brows furrowed slightly, as though he was trying to read between the lines of what I’d just said. For a moment, he didn’t respond, his lips parting slightly as if to speak, only to close again. It was rare to see Tyler at a loss for words, and for some reason, it made the knot in my stomach tighten even more.

“Riley—” he started, but I cut him off with a small shake of my head.

“Don’t,” I said quickly, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to keep it steady. “Just… don’t say anything. Not right now. Just show up, okay? If you really mean what you’ve been saying tonight, if you really want to make this work—for her—then prove it. Be there.”

For a moment, he just stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he nodded, his jaw tightening as he seemed to steel himself. “I’ll be there,” he said quietly, his voice steady but laced with something raw. “You have my word.”

I nodded in return, not trusting myself to say anything else. Without another word, I turned and walked toward the door, my steps quick and purposeful even though my chest felt like it was about to cave in.

This wasn’t how I’d wanted things to go. I’d come here tonight hoping for clarity, for some kind of resolution that would make everything feel easier, lighter. But instead, I felt more conflicted than ever. Tyler’s words echoed in my mind, his frustration and pain mingling with my own until I couldn’t tell where his ended and mine began.

An hour. That’s all I’d given him. It wasn’t much, but it was all I could give right now. And as much as I hated to admit it, a part of me was scared—scared that he’d show up and prove me wrong, or worse, that he wouldn’t show up at all.

I took a deep breath, the cold air stinging my lungs, and started toward my car. One hour. That’s all I had to wait. And yet, it already felt like an eternity…

“Daddy has to go, but I love you so much, Sugar pie,” Tyler’s voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he rocked Caroline gently in the chair. The sound of the creaking rocker echoed faintly through the quiet house, blending with the muffled hum of the rain outside. He cradled her close, her small arms wrapped around his neck as if she could keep him from leaving just by holding on tight enough. The sight of them together in the dim glow of the nightlight was enough to twist something deep in my chest, but I stayed hidden in the hallway, my back pressed against the wall as I eavesdropped on their final moments together tonight.

The rocker creaked again; a sound I’d grown so used to in those first sleepless months when Caroline was just a newborn. Tyler had spent hours in that chair, rocking her back and forth, humming softly under his breath when she couldn’t settle. He’d struggled to put the chair together the week before she was born, insisting that he didn’t need the instructions, and I’d laughed as he cursed quietly under his breath every time he got a piece wrong. Now, watching him rock our little girl in it, I wondered if he remembered those moments as clearly as I did. If they hurt him as much as they hurt me.

“Why can’t you stay with me, Daddy?” Caroline’s small voice broke through my thoughts, and I felt my heart shatter into a thousand pieces. Her words were so innocent, so full of the pure, unfiltered honesty that only a child could have, and yet, they carried a weight that neither of us could bear.

Tyler froze for a moment, his arms tightening around her as if he could shield her from the pain of the question. He pressed his lips to her hair, his eyes squeezed shut as he took a deep, shaky breath. “Oh, Sugar pie,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You know I’d stay if I could. I’d stay with you forever if I could.”

“Then why can’t you?” Caroline asked, her small voice cracking with confusion and hurt. She pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him with those wide, tear-filled eyes that always seemed to cut straight through to his soul. “Why can’t you stay here with me and Mommy?”

I covered my mouth with my hand, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as I listened from the shadows of the hallway. I knew this moment would come eventually—the moment when Caroline would start asking the hard questions, the ones we didn’t have easy answers for. But no amount of preparation could have made this easier. Hearing her little voice tremble, seeing the way she clung to him like her life depended on it, was almost too much to bear.

Tyler swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggled to find the right words. His hand came up to gently stroke Caroline’s hair, his fingers trembling slightly. “Sometimes, grown-ups have to live in different places,” he said finally, his voice soft and careful. “It’s not because I don’t love you, or because I don’t want to be with you. It’s just… the way things have to be right now.”

“But me and Mommy miss you,” Caroline said, her small voice trembling as she clung tighter to her father. Her words were simple, but the weight they carried was immense, heavy enough to make my breath hitch in my chest.

She was right—I did miss him. I missed him more than I ever wanted to admit, even to myself. Tyler wasn’t just Caroline’s father; he was my husband—well, ex-husband now—but that didn’t erase the years we had spent building a life together. The memories, the laughter, the love—it was all still there, lingering in the quiet corners of my heart, no matter how much I tried to push it away.

I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes as I fought the tears that threatened to spill over. I had loved him. I still loved him. And that was the hardest part of all of this. I never thought that our happily-ever-after would turn into a bitter divorce hearing, full of accusations and tears and lawyers who didn’t care about the life we had built together. I never thought we would end up here, two people who had once promised to love each other forever now struggling to figure out how to co-parent a little girl who didn’t understand why her family had fallen apart.

Tyler had been my everything at one point. The man who knew me better than anyone, who could make me laugh even on my worst days, who had held my hand through every high and low. He was the only man I had ever truly loved, and watching that love slip through my fingers had been one of the most painful experiences of my life. It was like trying to hold onto water—no matter how tightly I tried to grasp it, it always seemed to find a way to escape.

And now, as I listened to Caroline’s innocent, heart-wrenching questions, I felt that pain all over again. But this time, it wasn’t just my pain. It was hers too. She had been caught in the middle of something she didn’t ask for, something she didn’t deserve. And that broke me in a way I couldn’t even begin to describe.

“I miss you and Mommy too, bug,” Tyler said softly, his voice cracking ever so slightly as he cradled Caroline closer. He brushed a stray curl from her forehead, his hand lingering as though he couldn’t bear to let go. “But I promise, just because I’m not here with you in person, doesn’t mean I’m not with you. I’m always in here.” He tapped her chest gently with his finger, right over her heart.

Caroline tilted her head, her big, tear-filled eyes locking onto his as she asked, “In my heart?”

Tyler nodded, a small, tender smile breaking through the sadness etched into his face. “Yep,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring. “Every time you miss me, or feel sad because I’m not here, just remember that I’m right there in your heart. And nothing—*nothing*—can ever change that.”

Caroline sniffled, her little hands clutching at his shirt as though she might fall apart if she let go. “But what if I need to talk to you?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What if I want you to hug me and you’re not here?”

Tyler’s expression tightened for a moment, the pain of her words flickering across his face like a shadow. But he quickly steadied himself, his hand moving to gently stroke her back. “You know what?” he said softly, leaning in a little closer. “If you ever need to talk to me, all you have to do is ask Mommy to call me. She can call me anytime, bug, and I’ll answer. No matter where I am or what I’m doing, I’ll stop everything to talk to you. I promise.”

“Whenever I want?” Caroline asked, her voice brightening just a little, though her tears still glistened on her cheeks.

“Whenever you want,” Tyler confirmed, his smile growing as he kissed her forehead. “You’re more important than anything else, Caroline. There’s not a single thing in this world that matters more to me than you.”

Caroline seemed to consider this for a moment, her little brow furrowing as she processed his words. Finally, she nodded, her grip on his shirt loosening just slightly. “Okay,” she said softly, her voice still hesitant but a little steadier now. “But I’m still gonna miss you, Daddy.”

Tyler’s smile faltered for a split second, and I could see the sheer effort it took for him to hold himself together in that moment. “I’m gonna miss you too, Sugar pie,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I already do. But missing someone just means you love them a whole lot, and I love you more than anything.”

Caroline seemed satisfied with that answer, her head resting against his chest as she let out a tiny sigh. Tyler rocked her gently in the chair, the motion soothing both of them as the room fell quiet for a moment.

I took that as my cue to step back into the kitchen, retreating quietly so Tyler could have a few more moments with Caroline. My footsteps were light, careful not to make any noise that could pull either of them out of their private moment. As much as I wanted to stay rooted in that hallway and soak in the tenderness of their exchange, I knew this wasn’t my moment to intrude. This was for them—just a father and his daughter, sharing a goodbye that neither of them truly wanted to say.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, I exhaled slowly, the tension in my chest refusing to loosen. I had been holding my breath since this conversation started, and even now, with the faint sound of Tyler’s voice drifting down the hall, I couldn’t seem to relax. My emotions were too tangled, too raw.

I busied myself by tidying up the already clean counter, wiping away crumbs that weren’t there and straightening the edge of a dish towel. It gave my hands something to do, gave me a distraction from the ache that lingered deep in my chest. But nothing could drown out the quiet hum of Tyler’s voice or the occasional soft murmur from Caroline. Every word, every sound, seemed to wrap itself around me like a thread, pulling me back into a web of emotions I wasn’t sure I could untangle.

The rocker creaked faintly again, the noise carrying through the stillness of the house. I imagined Tyler holding her close, whispering reassurances that he would call her soon, that he loved her more than she could possibly understand. I imagined him tucking her back under her blankets, smoothing her hair, and kissing her forehead like he’d done a hundred times before. And I imagined the look on his face—the mixture of love and pain that always seemed to linger whenever he said goodbye to her. It was a look I knew all too well, one that had been etched into my memory from the day we decided to end our marriage.

I leaned my elbows on the counter, covering my face with my hands as I tried to steady myself. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. None of this was supposed to happen. We were supposed to be a family, raising Caroline together, making memories in the home we’d built. But somewhere along the way, things had unraveled, and now here we were—two people who used to love each other, trying to figure out how to co-parent without breaking her heart in the process.

The sound of Tyler’s footsteps pulled me out of my thoughts. I straightened quickly, brushing my hands down the front of my shirt as though that could somehow mask the fact that I was barely holding it together.

He appeared in the doorway a moment later, his shoulders slightly slumped and his hands stuffed into his pockets. His eyes met mine, and for a brief moment, neither of us said anything. The silence between us wasn’t hostile, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was heavy, filled with all the words we couldn’t say, all the emotions we couldn’t bring ourselves to admit.

“She’s asleep,” Tyler said finally, his voice low and quiet. “Knocked out as soon as her head hit the pillow.”

I nodded, my throat feeling tight as I tried to find the right words. “Thank you,” I said softly, my voice barely audible. “For being here. For… for making time for her.”

He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, but he didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he leaned against the doorframe, his gaze drifting toward the hallway where Caroline’s room was. “I hate leaving her,” he admitted after a moment, his voice cracking slightly. “Every time I walk out that door, it feels like I’m leaving a piece of myself behind.”

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. “She knows you love her,” I said, my voice trembling. “She knows how much you care, Tyler. And that means the world to her. Even if she doesn’t always understand why you have to go.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he looked down at the floor. “I just wish I could do more,” he said quietly. “I wish I could be here for her the way she deserves. The way you’ve been.”

My eyes drifted to the floor, unable to hold his gaze any longer. The faint sheen of pink nail polish on my toes caught my attention, a distraction so small yet so necessary in this moment. My chest felt tight, my emotions threatening to spill over as tears pricked at the edges of my vision. I blinked rapidly, willing them away, but the lump in my throat only grew heavier.

I didn’t want to cry—not now, not in front of him. Not when I’d spent so much time building the walls I needed to keep myself steady, to protect myself from everything this moment was dredging up. But the weight of the evening, of his words, of everything was becoming too much.

Seconds passed in silence, the air between us thick with unspoken emotions that neither of us seemed brave enough to confront. And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw his boots step into view. Worn, scuffed, and familiar in a way that made my chest ache, they stopped just inches from my bare feet. I froze, my breath catching as I felt the distance between us shrink to nothing.

And then his hand—calloused, warm, and unmistakably his—came into view. His thumb hooked softly under my jaw, the rough pad of his finger just brushing my skin as he tilted my face upward. The gesture was gentle, unassuming, but it carried a weight that made my heart stumble in my chest. I resisted at first, my instinctive defenses kicking in, but his persistence was quiet and steady, and eventually, I gave in.

When my eyes met his, the floodgates I had been so desperately trying to hold back threatened to burst. His gaze was steady, searching mine with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. For a moment, neither of us spoke, but the silence was deafening. His green eyes—so familiar, so full of emotions I couldn’t quite name—seemed to reach straight into the parts of me I’d been trying to bury.

“Riley,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. It was the way he used to say my name, back when things were simpler, back when we were still us. Back when the love between us was enough to drown out the noise of the world. Hearing it now, like this, felt like a knife twisting in my chest.

I blinked, a single tear escaping down my cheek despite my best efforts to keep my emotions in check. His thumb shifted slightly, brushing the tear away with a tenderness that made my breath catch. “You don’t have to do that,” he murmured, his voice tinged with something I couldn’t quite place—regret, longing, maybe both. “You don’t have to hide how you’re feeling. Not from me.”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry as I tried to find the words that would make this moment less unbearable. “It’s not that simple,” I managed, my voice trembling as I spoke. “None of this is simple, Tyler.”

“I know it’s not,” he said quietly, his thumb still resting gently against my jaw. “But that doesn’t mean you have to carry it all on your own. You don’t have to be so strong all the time, Riley. It’s okay to let someone in.”

I shook my head, the motion small but firm, as though it was the only thing keeping me grounded. “I can’t let you back in, Tyler,” I whispered, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to steady it. “Because if I do… if I let you back in, I won’t be able to get back out.”

The words hung between us like a fragile thread, the truth of them raw and exposed. I looked away, my gaze dropping to the floor as I tried to ignore the way his presence seemed to pull me in, like gravity refusing to let me go. My chest felt tight, my breathing shallow, and I could feel the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over if I wasn’t careful.

Tyler didn’t respond right away, but I could feel him—feel the weight of his gaze on me, the way his towering frame seemed to close the distance between us without him even moving. A moment later, I felt the heat of his breath against my skin, warm and steady, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. His body was now mere inches from mine, close enough that I could feel the faintest brush of his presence, yet still far enough that he wasn’t crossing the line. Not yet.

“Riley,” he said softly, his voice low and rough, like the sound of distant thunder. It wasn’t just my name—it was a plea, layered with all the things he wasn’t saying. The sound of it sent goosebumps racing across my arms, and I hated myself for the way my body reacted, for the way my heart betrayed me by pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

It happened so fast that I didn’t even realize it until we were both connected, his lips on mine as our bodies moved together in a rhythmic, unspoken harmony. The tension that had been building between us for so long finally cracked open, spilling out in waves of heat and desire that neither of us could contain. His hands gripped my waist, firm yet tender, as if he was afraid I might slip away, and I found myself pulling him closer, desperate to feel every inch of him against me.

The world around us seemed to dissolve, the noise, the chaos, the rational thoughts—all of it dimmed until there was nothing but us. His breath mingled with mine as his lips trailed from my mouth to my jawline, down to the sensitive hollow of my neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Each touch, every movement, felt like a spark igniting something deep within me, something I hadn’t realized was there until now.

We moved together, our bodies speaking a language that words never could. It was raw, electric, and unrelenting, as if we were pouring every ounce of the unspoken tension we’d carried for so long into this moment. Hushed moans escaped between stolen kisses, the sound of them reverberating in the stillness around us. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, grounding myself in the reality of what was happening, even as it felt like we were floating somewhere far beyond the confines of this world.

For a fleeting moment, I opened my eyes to look at him. His gaze met mine, dark and intense, filled with something I couldn’t quite name but felt in every fiber of my being. It wasn’t just passion—it was something deeper, something that terrified and thrilled me all at once. And just like that, his lips captured mine again, drawing me back into the storm of us, where nothing else mattered but this connection, this release, this undeniable pull that had finally consumed us both…

[oskea93]

okay nooooo. Tyler is an idiot for taking his 4 year old daughter with him into a tornado and an asshole for doing it behind her moms back!! Like what the fuck man, that is absolutely not okay to do.

Yeah he’s gonna die everything he can to keep her safe but nature is unpredictable and anything can happen at any time???

Im really curious to see how they’re ever gonna work out their issues again because there seems to be a lot lol

Riley and Tyler have more issues than a magazine! They are a very complex couple and you'll see that in the flashback chapters as well as the present updates.

[oskea93]

Tyler Owens x OC

Summary: In which Riley Owens, the ex-wife of the infamous Tornado Wrangler, has 36 hours to come to terms if moving to a whole new country with their small daughter is something she truly wants to do.

Warnings: Cursing, angst, suggested smut, fluff. ✶ Chapter One ✶ ✶ Chapter Two ✶

■ A/N: You guys are amazing! I just want to say thank you so much for loving this story and following the tale of Riley and Tyler ❤️ ■ Taglist is available - just drop a comment! Would love to hear your thoughts, questions, or maybe just drop by to say hello! Can't wait to hear from y'all

TL:  @ellesmythe @18lkpeters @hookslove1592, @djs8891, @smoothdogsgirl @queenslandlover-93 @imjustamehbleh @love2write2626 @lt-jakeseresin @starcrossedtrek @kmc1989 @lauraseresin

(12:59pm)

“Hey Lilly—” I jogged over to the Subaru as she quickly buckled into the driver’s seat, her movements quick and determined.

“You coming?” Her eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and urgency, reflecting the thrill of the impending storm and the adventure it promised.

I let out a chuckle, shaking my head no. “Not in a million years.” I could see her smile falter, a flicker of disappointment washing over her face. “I was just seeing where Caroline was—thought maybe Tyler left her with you or Dani?”

As soon as the words left my lips, I watched as the blood literally drained from Lilly’s face. “He didn’t ask you?” Her voice trembled slightly, and my stomach sank.

My shoulders straightened in concern, an uneasy feeling settling in my chest. “Who—ask me what?” My heart began to beat erratically, the rhythmic thumping echoing my growing anxiety.

She stayed silent for a moment, her gaze dropping to the steering wheel as if she were afraid to say the words that might shatter the fragile calm. “Caroline’s riding with Boone and Tyler.”

Panic took over my emotions, a tidal wave crashing over me. “What!” My eyes darted to the open road, Tyler’s red truck becoming nonexistent in the distance. “No, he didn’t fucking ask me!”

“Oh shit,” Lilly whispered, her voice barely audible over the thrum of the Subaru’s engine. “Look, maybe he just forgot to mention it? You know how he gets when there’s a storm coming.”

“Forgot?” I spat, disbelief and hurt lacing my voice. “He knows how I feel about her going near those things! Especially after…” My voice trailed off, unable to articulate the memories that flashed through my mind. Images of that night rushed back—dark clouds, howling winds, the terror that wrapped around us like a vice grip, and the cuts that etched across her small face, a haunting reminder of the dangers we faced.

Lilly’s hand found mine, her touch a wave of calm against the storm raging inside me. “I know, I know. But freaking out won't help. Get in. We'll find them.” I nodded, my head still spinning, rage still coursing through my body like a live wire.

The thought of confronting Tyler, of seeing the smug look on his face, ignited the fire of my anger. But more than that, I was terrified for Caroline. I yanked open the passenger door and slammed it shut, the sound echoing the turmoil within me. "Let's go."

The Subaru roared to life as Lilly peeled out behind Dexter’s motorhome, the wheels kicking up gravel in our wake. I watched as the clouds grew darker, swirling ominously overhead—the very clouds that were no doubt hanging over Tyler’s truck. “We got formation forming just west of the interstate—about four miles away from you guys,” Dexter’s voice crackled through the radio, a beacon of urgency amidst the chaos.

“Roger that, Dexter!” Caroline’s sweet voice echoed back through the radio, causing my heart to beat harder, a mix of relief and dread flooding my senses. Hearing her voice brought a wave of warmth, but it was quickly overshadowed by the reality of the situation. I could imagine her, focused and brave, but I couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at my insides.

“Caroline!” I called out, my voice rising above the roar of the engine and the wind. “Are you okay?” I needed to hear her say she was safe, to know that she was out of harm's way. The radio crackled, and I held my breath, waiting for her response.

“You think her being with me would mean that she’s not okay?” Tyler’s voice echoed back, dripping with sarcasm. “You’re really making me feel like a real winner of a father today, Riles.”

The air in the car grew tense, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved issues. My grip on the dashboard tightened as I processed his response. Tyler’s defensiveness was palpable, and it ignited a flicker of anger deep within me. “This isn’t about you, Tyler. It’s about Caroline’s safety,” I shot back, my voice steady but firm, trying to keep the storm of emotions in check.

“Oh, right. Because you’ve been the perfect mother, haven’t you?” he retorted, his tone sharp, like a blade slicing through the tension. “Last I checked, you were the one who moved hundreds of miles away and took Caroline away from me.”

His words hit hard, and I felt a rush of heat wash over me. I could hear the accusation lingering in his voice, and it stung. Moving and taking Caroline away from Tyler was one of the hardest things I’ve done at that time. I couldn’t stay in Arkansas any longer – there were no job opportunities for me out here. I couldn’t depend on Tyler any longer – fearing that any moment I would get the call that he was killed. I wasn’t gonna put my daughter through that.

“I did what was best for our daughter, Tyler.” My voice was tight, trembling with a mixture of anger and fear. “You fucking know how I feel about storm chasing, and you go behind my back and take her with you without even tell—”

“Telling you!” His voice rose, echoing off the walls like thunder. “Goddammit, Riley, she’s my daughter! If I want to bring her along and let her see what Mother Nature is granting us the pleasure of witnessing today, then by fucking God, I’m gonna do it.”

The line went dead, the crackle of static abruptly replaced by an unsettling silence.

“Tyler—” I called out, my voice rising in urgency. “Tyler!”

The two-way radio bounced sharply against the dashboard before it clattered to the floor with a dull thud. Frustration coursed through me as I stared at the lifeless device, its silence echoing the dread swelling in my chest.

“I know you don’t want to hear this—” Lilly began, her gaze unwavering on the twisting road ahead, her knuckles white against the steering wheel. “But we both know that even though Caroline is in that truck with Tyler and Boone, she’s in the safest hands at this moment.”

I raked my fingers hastily through my hair, a futile attempt to dissipate the mounting anxiety. The landscape blurred past as I focused on the horizon, where dark clouds roiled ominously. In the distance, I caught sight of Dexter’s caravan veering off to the side of the road, him and Danny jumping out, urgency propelling their movements. My heart raced; it meant Tyler and Boone were gaining on the twister.

“He knows how I feel about her getting that close,” I snapped, my voice thick with emotion. “He knows what she and I went through that night.” The memories came rushing back flooded with chaos, fear, and the haunting realization of how quickly everything could spiral out of control.

Lilly glanced at me, her expression a mix of concern and determination. “We can’t change what’s happening right now. We have to trust them. Tyler wouldn’t put her in danger.”

“Trust,” I muttered bitterly, staring out at the darkening sky. “Trust means nothing when you’re staring down a storm.”

Just then, a low rumble echoed in the distance, a warning growl from the sky. It sent a shiver down my spine, reminding me that time was slipping away. I could almost feel the pulse of the storm, the chaotic energy that promised destruction.

Lilly’s Subaru kicked up the Kansas dirt as she pulled up beside Dexter and Danny. I watched as she quickly got out of the car, her computer in hand as she rushed towards the duo.

As I stepped out of the car, the dry Kansas air enveloped me, carrying with it the scent of dirt and ozone. My attention was hijacked by Tyler's booming voice, his words spilling from Dexter's speaker like a sudden burst of energy. I felt a pang of unease as I caught sight of Caroline's bright smile on the screen, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the internet, we have a special guest with us here on the storm chaser channel," Tyler announced, his tone a perfect blend of showmanship and daredevil charm. "Why don't you say hi to everyone, sugar pie."

Boone's camera whirled around, capturing Caroline's beaming smile as she waved at the camera. My heart skipped a beat as I watched, a mix of emotions swirling inside me.

"Tell 'em who you are, tater," Boone egged her on, his voice filled with a playful enthusiasm that grated on my nerves.

Caroline's gaze flickered towards Boone before she turned back to the camera, a hint of shyness creeping into her expression. "My name is Caroline Sarah Owens," she said, her voice clear and confident.

“Owens –“Boone playfully questioned. “You wouldn’t happen to be related to Tyler Owens the tornado wrangler, would you?”

Caroline gleefully nodded her head, “He’s my daddy!”

"Whoa, small world!" Boone exclaimed; his enthusiasm infectious. "The tornado wrangler's daughter, riding shotgun with us today! Folks, we've got a real treat for you!"

Tyler's voice chimed in, his tone laced with a mix of pride and amusement. "That's right, folks! My little girl's got storm chasing in her blood. And she's not afraid to get up close and personal with the big ones!"

I watched, my anxiety spiking, as Caroline's smile grew even wider, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She was eating up the attention, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of worry. This was all too much, too fast. She was just a kid, and she didn't understand the risks, the dangers that came with storm chasing.

The team glanced over at me, gaging my reaction as the camera moved away from Caroline and back onto Tyler as he explained the mission for today. The models were showing a strong storm with a lot of updrafts – big and foreign words for someone in the fashion industry. I’ve heard Tyler and the team mention them all the time, but never been inclined to learn the true meanings.

“As always—” Tyler grinned into the camera, his excitement infectious. “We have the crew out in the field—Dexter, Dani, and the fabulous Lilly!” A split screen popped up, revealing their faces, each one brimming with enthusiasm. My presence was also caught on camera, a new face among the familiar crew, and it didn’t take long for viewers to take notice.

It took only a moment for someone in the comment section to spot my unfamiliar face, and soon questions flooded the screen. Who was I? Was I a new member of the Tornado Wranglers? Meanwhile, Tyler and Boone kept their focus on the incoming storm, casually brushing aside the burning questions that swirled around like the storm clouds above.

“There’s that beautiful girl!” Tyler exclaimed, his gaze shifting to the passenger side window. “Carolina, honey, check that out!” His finger pointed excitedly in the direction of the swirling twister, and I turned just in time to see our daughter’s head bobbing up, her bright eyes wide with wonder.

“Don’t you think we’re getting a bit close?” Ben interjected, glancing nervously between Caroline and Tyler. “Precious cargo and all?” His concern was palpable, but Tyler merely chuckled.

“Good ol’ Ben,” he smiled into the rearview mirror, his confidence unwavering. “This is the safest truck you’ll ever ride in. You need a good reliable vehicle when you’re riding into the twister, baby.” With that, his foot slammed down hard on the accelerator, and the truck surged forward, causing Ben to lurch back in his seat. Caroline's delighted giggles rang out in the background.

“So for today’s lesson, ladies, gentlemen, and kiddies,” Tyler continued, his voice booming with enthusiasm, “we are gonna see if you can, in fact, set off fireworks into the center of a twister. Got those canisters ready, Boone?” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

The camera switched back to Boone, who was grinning ear to ear, giving the lens a thumbs up. “Ready to rock and roll, Wranglers!” His excitement was contagious, and I felt my own heart race in anticipation.

As Tyler pressed down on the accelerator, the sound of the engine roared, drowning out everything else. Boone let out a whoop of exhilaration, and Caroline's laughter filled the air like music. However, a wave of nausea suddenly hit me, a gut-wrenching sensation that felt like crashing against a brick wall, as the red truck barreled right into the swirling center of the funnel.

“He’s got her, Riley,” Dexter tried to reassure me, but his words felt empty against the mounting chaos outside.

The signal began to glitch as the twister rolled ominously over the truck, the screen flickering as if the storm itself was trying to disrupt our broadcast. The sudden noise of an explosion erupted, followed by a dazzling display of red and blue sparks bursting through the sickeningly dark skies. It was a breathtaking sight, both beautiful and terrifying, a vivid reminder of nature’s unpredictable power.

“Hell yeah—” Dani yelled, her voice ringing out with pure jubilation. “They fucking did it!” Her enthusiasm was infectious, but I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling clenching in my stomach.

Seconds later, the signal stabilized, and the faces inside the truck beamed with excitement, their adrenaline still coursing through them. The storm that had moments ago loomed ominously above us had practically dissipated, leaving behind a clear blue sky punctuated only by the remnants of swirling clouds. Tyler’s truck rolled back onto the gravel road, dust swirling in our wake.

“You’ve seen it here first, Wranglers—” Tyler declared, his smile wide and infectious. “You can shoot off fireworks in the middle of a raging twister!” His voice was filled with pride, a testament to the crew’s daring spirit and their unwavering pursuit of adventure. He turned to the camera, gesturing animatedly as he went on to thank the crew, his excitement palpable.

Pulling Caroline into the front seat with him, he wrapped his arms around her small frame, an image of fatherly affection. “And thanks to my little backseat co-pilot for joining me today.” His eyes sparkled with joy as he looked down at her. “How’d you like it, sugar pie?”

Caroline smiled brightly, leaning her head against Tyler’s flannel shirt, her small voice ringing out sweetly, “Love it.” That same smile, one that mirrored her father’s—bright and full of life—shone into the camera, capturing the hearts of viewers everywhere.

Tyler turned to the camera again, his tone playful. “You wanna do it again sometime?” Without hesitation, Caroline nodded her head vigorously, her enthusiasm infectious, prompting Boone and Tyler to erupt into laughter. “Well, there you have it, ladies and gentlemen! Be on the lookout for the newest and youngest wrangler coming to screens near you soon.”

But as I watched this heartwarming exchange, a wave of unease washed over me. “Over my dead body,” I muttered under my breath, the words laced with a mix of protectiveness and apprehension. The thought of Caroline—my little girl—getting swept up in this chaotic whirlwind of storm chasing sent a shiver down my spine.

The crew might have been reveling in the thrill of their antics, but I couldn’t shake the nagging worry that accompanied such reckless adventures. Tyler thrived on the adrenaline, and Caroline, with her sparkling eyes and adventurous spirit, seemed ready to follow in his footsteps…

I was immediately on my feet once I caught a glimpse of the truck pulling into the parking lot. My heart raced as I stepped up to the backdoor, not even bothering to wait until he had placed it into park. The anger bubbled inside me, a boiling point I could no longer contain.

“Now wait a minute, Riley,” Tyler edged, quickly hopping out of the driver’s side, his face a mix of concern and confusion.

“Don’t you dare say a single word to me right now, Tyler Owens. Don’t you fucking dare.” My voice was sharp, laced with the fury that had been building since the moment I saw the storm on the horizon. I knew it was wrong for Caroline to see me acting this way towards her father, but the thought of him taking her without asking me—after I specifically told him no—set me ablaze. He had put her in the path of a fucking F2 tornado!

“Mommy, did you see what Daddy did?” Caroline’s voice broke through, innocent and filled with excitement, but it only fueled my anger further. I practically threw her harness straps off her little body, pulling her into mine as my arms wrapped protectively around her.

“She had fun, Riley,” Tyler said, his tone deeper, almost defensive. “It’s in her blood—”

“No, Tyler!” My voice cracked, laced with a mix of fury and desperation. “It’s in your blood—” My finger jabbed into his hard chest; each word punctuated with emotion. “She has no place out in this world—”

Before I could finish, Lilly and Boone swiftly approached, their expressions turning serious as they saw the tension escalating. They reached for Caroline, gently pulling her out of my arms. Tears rolled down her cheeks, caught in the crossfire of Tyler and my argument. The sight of her distress twisted my heart, but I couldn’t back down; I had to make him understand.

“Make you feel good to see her cry?” Tyler shot back, his voice low and fierce.

My jaw slacked, disbelief washing over me. “Excuse me?” I could hardly process his accusation. “This isn’t about me feeling good, Tyler! It’s about her safety!”

“Then why are you yelling at me?” He gestured towards Caroline, who was now in Lilly’s arms, her small body trembling. “She’s scared because you’re acting like a lunatic!”

“Because you’re being reckless!” I shot back, my hands trembling as I ran them through my hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. “You think this is some kind of game? You took her into a storm, Tyler! A storm! What if something went wrong?”

“Nothing went wrong!” He argued, his voice rising, echoing in the parking lot. “She had the time of her life! You should’ve seen her face when the fireworks went off—”

“And what about the next time?” I interrupted, my emotions spilling over. “What if next time there’s no one to pull her out of danger? What if you can’t protect her?”

The tension thickened in the air, and I could see the frustration in Tyler’s eyes morph into something more vulnerable. It was a fleeting moment, but for a second, I saw the doubt in him—the realization that maybe I was right, that there were risks we could never ignore.

“Riley,” he said, his tone softening as he took a step closer, trying to bridge the divide between us. “You know I’d never put her in harm’s way on purpose. I love her, and I love you. I thought we were in this together—”

“Together?” I scoffed, the bitterness creeping into my voice. “We are not together! You don’t get to make unilateral decisions that put her at risk! This isn’t just about you and your thrill-seeking! She’s a child, not a prop in your adventures!” Each word felt like a dagger, aimed directly at Tyler’s heart, and I could see the hurt flash across his face.

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on us, the tension crackling like static electricity in the air. Behind us, the parking lot buzzed with life, but in our little bubble, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of us—two parents at an impasse, fighting over the well-being of our daughter.

“You think I don’t care about her?” he finally shot back, his voice rising in frustration. “I love her! I thought I was giving her a taste of adventure, something exciting to remember! Isn’t that what we want for her? To live life fully?”

“Not like this!” I pressed, my hands shaking as I struggled to keep my composure. “Adventure doesn’t have to come at the cost of her safety! You think it’s fun to chase storms and set off fireworks, but you’re not seeing the bigger picture. What if something had gone wrong? What if she had gotten hurt?”

Tyler ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “Nothing did go wrong! She was safe, and she loved every second of it! You’re overreacting, Riley. You always do this—”

“Overreacting?” I echoed incredulously, my voice rising. “I’m not overreacting! I’m being a mother! You may see this as just another day in your thrill-seeking life, but I see the risks! I see the potential for disaster!”

Lilly stood to the side, trying to soothe Caroline, whose eyes were wide with confusion and fear. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she murmured softly, wiping away the tears that had streamed down Caroline’s cheeks. “Mommy and Daddy are just having a grown-up conversation.”

I felt my heart break as I watched my little girl caught in the middle of our storm. “I don’t want her to see us like this,” I said, my voice softening for a moment, but the anger quickly surged back. “But how can I stay calm when you’re putting her in danger?”

“Danger?” Tyler scoffed, his expression hardening again. “You call it danger; I call it living. She’s going to grow up thinking the world is a scary place if you keep her wrapped in bubble wrap!”

“Bubble wrap?” I laughed bitterly, my chest tightening. “Protecting her isn’t bubble wrap, Tyler! It’s being a responsible parent! You can’t just throw her into the eye of the storm and call it an adventure!”

“Maybe you need to let go a little!” he shot back, frustration boiling over. “Maybe you need to trust me! I know what I’m doing!”

“Trust you?” I felt a wave of disbelief wash over me. “You think this is about trust? This is about being sensible! About understanding boundaries! You need to realize that you’re not just making decisions for yourself anymore!”

“Then what do you suggest? We just sit at home, watching the world go by while she dreams of the adventures we could be having?” Tyler’s voice was rising, and I could see the veins in his neck pulsing with tension.

“No!” I replied, my voice pleading. “But there’s a balance! There are ways to introduce her to adventure without throwing caution to the wind! You need to stop thinking of her as your sidekick in a dangerous game and start seeing her as our daughter!”

“Are you really insinuating that I think of Caroline as my fucking sidekick?” His eyes darkened with rage. “That little girl is all I fucking have in life, Riley. How would you feel if someone took away your life and moved them hundreds of miles away?”

“I did what was best for her, Tyler.” I was exhausted with having this argument. “There was no opportunities for me in Arkansas – no opportunities for her. I’m not gonna be the happy little housewife that waits patiently by the front door, hoping that you come back in one piece. It was draining being married to the Tornado Wrangler.”

“Was it draining to be married to the Tornado Wrangler when you were spending the money that was coming in?” Tyler's words left his mouth before he had time to think, each syllable laced with a bitterness that echoed the anger boiling beneath the surface.

“Wow—” I gasped, tears welling in my eyes as his question felt like a gut punch. The accusation hung in the air between us, sharp and unforgiving. In that moment, I felt a rush of emotions—hurt, anger, and disbelief all crashing over me like a wave. How could he twist my concerns into something so selfish?

“Is that really how you see it?” I managed to choke out, my voice trembling with the weight of his words. “You think I was just some gold digger, living off your success while I played house?”

“It's not like you ever complained when the checks came rolling in,” he shot back, his frustration bubbling over. “You loved the lifestyle—the trips, the nice things, the freedom. But now that it’s all gone, you want to act like it was so tough!”

I felt the heat of anger rise within me, mixing with the tears that threatened to spill over. “You’re missing the point, Tyler! It wasn’t about the money! It was about the instability, the fear of you chasing storms without thinking about the family you were leaving behind. I was drowning in uncertainty while you were out there chasing your dreams!”

His expression hardened as he crossed his arms, the tension in his body palpable. “So what, I’m supposed to just give it all up? Stop being who I am because it makes you uncomfortable?”

“No!” I exclaimed, my voice rising. “But you need to find a balance! I wanted to support you, to be there for you, but I couldn’t keep pretending that everything was okay when it felt like our lives were hanging by a thread. I was terrified of losing you to the very thing that you loved!”

“Terrified or just selfish?” he countered, the bitterness in his tone cutting deep. “Because it sounds like you’re just mad that I didn’t fit into your picture-perfect life.”

“Picture-perfect?” I echoed, incredulous. “You think I wanted a perfect life? I wanted a partner, someone I could count on. But instead, I was left waiting by the door, wondering if you’d come back in one piece or if the next storm would take you away from us forever.”

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

[oskea93]

Okay, so I know I have a lot of stories that are just hanging in limbo and I’ve been terrible with trying to update them. I do want to say that I have parts of Tis The Way and Kansas halfway written and have not forgotten about them! My current job is M-F so the only time I can write is on the weekend once I get all my charting done.

However! I do have an idea brewing for a new Glen/Jake story. It’ll be set in the 40s maybe during but mostly after the war. Kind of a coming home and this is a new life fic if that makes sense. The little wheels are spinning in my head over this story but I just wanted to reach out to you guys and see if you would be interested? If I do this story, I’m gonna cap myself off at 3 stories and then continue/start the ones I pushed aside once a fic is complete.

Let me know if you are interested ☺️

[oskea93]

Okay, so hear me out…. I just want to say that I’m still in the process of writing my Tyler Owen story as well as my Caleb (Horizon) fic. With that being said, I was seeing what y’all’s opinion would be about a story that is completely made up but features three incredibly attractive men as the main characters? I’m taking: Glen Powell, Charlie Hunnam, and Boyd Holbrook…. Like I said this will be complete fiction and made up mostly on the fly. Would anyone be interested in reading that?

Drop and comment and let me know 🚨😘🥵

[oskea93]

Has anyone watched the new show Landman? I’m jonesing for a Glen Powell Landman type plot/story…. Anyone else?

[oskea93]

Not to sound demanding, but when will the first chapter of the Take Me Away fic be posted?

Fingers crossed - soon! I'm gonna start working on it tonight and into the weekend :)

[oskea93]

☨ Fire Away ☨ ✴︎ Chapter Ten (p.2) ✴︎

A/N: Hi guys!! So sorry for the long pauses between updates. I've been trying to figure out what I want to do with my nursing career and I think i've finally found something I want to do - it's just been kind of a whirlwind and stressful at times. My new job will be 5 days a week but it will be much less stressful and will give me time to write! I appreciate your patience and I love you all so much ❤️

❖ If you would like to be tagged, please comment below ❖

Also! If you have an questions, comments, or just want to say hi - just send me a message and I would love to talk to y'all!

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The gala was bustling with energy when we arrived, the grand hall echoing with laughter and conversation. Many familiar faces from our wedding greeted us warmly as we navigated through the elegantly decorated rooms. The air was filled with the soft strains of music and the clinking of glasses, creating an atmosphere of celebration.

Most of the attendees, however, were strangers to me. Caius moved confidently through the crowd, greeting each person with a firm handshake and a polite smile. Despite the outward cordiality, there was an undercurrent of tension, evident in the fleeting, sharp glances exchanged between Caius and the other men. It was as if unspoken words and hidden agendas lingered in the air.

As we continued to mingle, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the social dynamics at play, the delicate balance of power and influence subtly shifting with each introduction and exchange.

We finally reached our table, and my stomach dropped as soon as my eyes landed on Aro and Victor, seated comfortably with drinks in their hands, engaged in deep conversation. Their presence was both unexpected and unsettling, stirring up memories and emotions I had hoped to avoid tonight.

“I got you,” Caius murmured reassuringly in my ear, sensing my apprehension. His grip on my hand tightened, grounding me amidst the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Our closing movement tipped Victor off first, ceasing his conversation with his boss and drawing his attention to Caius and me as we took our seats across from them. The atmosphere shifted abruptly, the air thickening with unspoken tension. Victor's sickening smirk lingered, a predatory glint flashing in his eyes.

 “Well, look, the lovely couple finally decided to grace us with their presence.” His voice dripped with mockery; each word laced with a teasing edge. “A quickie on the way here delay you two?”

Caius shifted slightly in his seat, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Not that it’s any of your business, Victor,” he replied, his tone steady but with an undercurrent of irritation. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and anger at Victor’s insinuation.

Victor leaned back, crossing his arms with a smug satisfaction as he continued, “If that girl was my wife, I’d never let her see the light of day—have her staring up at the ceiling or the mattress day and night.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and I could feel the weight of them pressing down on me. They were meant to provoke, to challenge, and they struck a nerve.

“Leave the poor girl alone, Victor—” Aro spoke up, his voice laced with a mix of concern and condescension. “She’s in delicate condition with my great nephew.” The words hung heavy in the air, and bile rose in my throat at the thought of his casual ownership over the situation.

Victor’s gaze flickered between Aro and me, his expression a blend of curiosity and skepticism. “You already know for sure it’s a boy?” he asked, skepticism laced in his tone. The question felt like an accusation, a challenge, as if he questioned not just the gender of the child but the very legitimacy of Aro's claims.

The air crackled with unspoken tension, thick enough to choke on. Caius’s words had been a challenge, thinly veiled but no less potent for it. “We don’t know the gender—” he’d started, his voice laced with steel, but it was his eyes that spoke volumes. They flicked to Aro, a silent storm brewing in their depths, before settling back on me, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of genuine concern in them.

“Aro’s assuming as usual,” Caius finished, the accusation hanging heavy in the air. He shifted, placing himself subtly between me and Aro, a protective gesture that did not go unnoticed.

Aro, however, merely chuckled, the sound devoid of any real humor. “Oh, come now, Caius. Surely, we can indulge in a bit of speculation. After all, it’s a momentous occasion,” he purred, his words dripping with honeyed venom. His gaze, sharp and calculating, swept across us, lingering on Caius for a beat too long. The message was clear: you may question me, but do not mistake my patience for weakness.

Victor, ever eager to insert himself into the fray, chuckled, a greasy sound that set my teeth on edge. “What happens if it’s a girl, Aro?” he interjected, leaning back in his chair, a smug smirk plastered across his plump face. “Can’t have a little girl running this family, can you?”

The question, though posed in jest, hung heavy in the air. All eyes turned to Aro, anticipating his reaction. He steepled his fingers, his expression unreadable as he considered Victor’s words. Then, a slow, predatory smile spread across his face, sending chills down my spine.

“The Volturi men,” he began, his voice low and dangerous, “are only known to produce male offspring.” His eyes, black as obsidian, met mine, and in their depths, I saw a terrifying blend of amusement and ruthlessness.

“Vanessa here,” he continued, his gaze lingering on me, possessive and chilling, “will be giving birth to the next heir – a male heir – to this family. For over fifty years, there has not been a single female born into this family.” His words felt like a brand, searing themselves onto my skin. “I don’t foresee that changing with our darling mother-to-be.”

Caius let out a loud sigh, shifting uncomfortably in his chair, his arm resting protectively on the back of mine. His frustration was evident, his voice tinged with anger as he spoke. “Can we just stop talking about my wife and our child?” His accent thickened with emotion, each word a plea for privacy. “We didn’t come here to be interrogated.”

Aro and Victor exchanged a subtle, knowing glance, their expressions unreadable but their intent clear. Aro’s voice dripped with mock politeness as he responded. “Well, excuse me, nephew,” he said, his words laced with sarcasm. “I wasn’t aware that our hope for a strong male heir was considered interrogation.” His gaze shifted to me, eyes locking with mine in a way that was both unsettling and insistent.

“Dear Vanessa,” he continued, his tone sickeningly soft, attempting to draw me into the conversation. “Do you share the same feelings as Caius? Do you feel as if Victor and I are asking too many questions or making you uncomfortable in any way?”

His question hung in the air, clearly staged, lacking any genuine concern or remorse. The coldness in his eyes betrayed his true motives, making it clear that he was testing us, probing for weaknesses. The tension in the room was palpable, a silent battle of wills playing out beneath the surface. I could feel Caius tense beside me, and I knew this confrontation was far from over.

“I’m gonna get a drink.” Caius stood abruptly, his frustration boiling over as he reached for my hand. His grip was firm but reassuring, pulling me away from the toxic atmosphere of the table.  

“Don’t be like that, Caius!” Victor called out, a chuckle in his voice, clearly amused by the reaction. Caius didn’t respond; his grip on my hand tightened as he led us through the throng of gala attendees, weaving between elegantly dressed guests and waitstaff carrying trays of drinks.

The room was a swirl of laughter and music, a sharp contrast to the tension that had gripped our table. Caius’s pace was brisk, each step purposeful as he put distance between us and the stifling atmosphere we’d just left behind. His jaw was set, eyes focused ahead, determined to find a moment of respite.

As we moved farther into the crowd, the ambient noise became a comforting hum, the clinking of glasses and soft chatter a backdrop to our escape. I could feel the tension in his arm begin to ease, though his resolve remained firm. Finally, we reached a quieter corner near the bar, a place where the din of the gala softened, offering a semblance of peace.

He released a heavy breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he turned to face me, a silent apology in his eyes. It was clear the evening had taken its toll, and this brief reprieve was much needed. As we stood there, the weight of the evening began to lift, leaving us in a bubble of relative calm, away from prying eyes and unspoken judgments.

“Double whiskey, please.” Caius’s voice was steady as the bartender nodded and turned to prepare the drink. The silence between us was a welcome relief, his fingers gently curving into my side, drawing me closer as we watched the lively dance floor.

“I’m sorry.” His voice broke through my thoughts, drawing my attention back to him. “I know talking about the baby is something you don’t like to do, especially with Aro and that fucker, Victor.” His blue eyes met mine with an intensity that was both reassuring and protective. “I just want you to know—” He pulled me closer, his arm wrapping around me, enveloping me in his warmth. “I will never let them hurt you or our child.”

I wanted to believe him—a part of me did—but I knew he was no match for Aro. His uncle was the head of the family, the feared leader. If Aro decided he wanted our son, Caius would be overpowered, and neither of us could do anything about it. The thought gnawed at me, tempting me to stand up at that table and lie, claiming I was having a little girl, just to see Aro’s reaction. Imagining him falter at the notion of the Volturi heir being a girl was a small, defiant fantasy.

Trying to shake off the heavy thoughts, I reached up and twirled a piece of his ever-growing blonde hair around my finger. “You wanna dance with me?” I asked, a hint of playfulness in my voice. “Our first dance together wasn’t the best.”

Caius looked at me, his eyes softening as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I’d love to,” he replied, wrapping his arm around me.

As he led us to the dance floor, the music wrapped around us, creating a comforting cocoon. We moved together, letting the rhythm guide us, and for a moment, it felt like we were free from the weight of expectations and fears. Each step was a silent pact, a hope for a future where our family could be beyond Aro’s reach.

“I truly and deeply love you, Vanessa,” Caius whispered, his breath warm against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “I know at times it may seem like I don’t care or I’m pushing you away, but marrying you was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Our eyes locked, confusion and curiosity mingling in my gaze. “Why are you telling me this?” I asked honestly. “If you’re worried about what Aro said—”

He shook his head, cutting me off. “It’s not that—” He paused, searching for the right words. “I know I’ve treated you poorly over the few months we’ve been married. Charlotte made me realize that tonight while I was waiting for you. You don’t deserve that—and our baby doesn’t deserve to hear that.”

His sincerity was palpable, and I could see the regret in his eyes. It was a vulnerable moment, an admission that carried the weight of his remorse. As we stood together on the dance floor, I felt a shift, a new understanding between us, as if he was truly determined to make things right.

“I don’t blame you for anything, Caius,” I said softly, letting the slow rhythm of the song surround us. “Everything that’s happened has been a lot—too much for you at times. I know you didn’t mean the things you said, just like I never meant what I said either.”

He stayed silent, pulling me back into his embrace as we swayed gently to the music. My head rested against his chest, enveloped by the comforting scent of nicotine and cologne that I had grown to love. It brought a sense of peace, however fleeting.

But that tranquility was soon disrupted by the unsettling feeling of being watched. Carefully, I scanned the room, and there he was, seated almost dead center among the guests. His gaze was unmistakable—cold and calculating, nothing like Caius’s warm blue eyes. Just cold and black, a stark reminder of the power he held and the threat he posed.

Aro’s presence was a chilling reminder of the challenges we faced, casting a shadow over our moment of intimacy. Despite Caius’s reassurances, the reality of our situation loomed large, underscoring the importance of our unity and strength…

Caius’s POV

I watched from the corner of the room as she slept, the sheets scattered around her bare legs. Her nightgown, hastily thrown on after we made love, was hiked up her tan thighs. The soft rise and fall of her breath was calming, a quiet reminder of the intimacy we shared.

In the dim light, her peaceful expression was a stark contrast to the turmoil of the evening. I felt a deep sense of protectiveness, vowing silently to keep her safe from the threats that loomed. Knowing that Aro wanted nothing more than to control Vanessa’s actions and life made my blood boil. Initially, she was brought into the family to bear the next Volturi child. She was to be my "wife"—a term used loosely. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her or care for her deeply. My role was clear: protect her until she gave birth to our child—my child.

But everything changed as I got to know her. She became more than just a means to an end; she became someone I cherished and wanted to protect for her own sake. The thought of Aro’s manipulations only strengthened my resolve to shield her from his influence, to fight for the life we could build together beyond his grasp.

I never felt these feelings for anyone before—these feelings of unconditional love. Before we were married, I would watch her work tirelessly in that rundown business her folks owned. The way she interacted with customers was mesmerizing; her smile seemed to brighten the dim light that surrounded the building. I often found myself captivated, yet too intimidated by her beauty and the sharp wit she possessed to approach her.

Those early days were a mix of admiration and longing. I remember standing on the sidelines, wishing for the courage to speak to her. My mind was constantly filled with thoughts of her, her laughter echoing in my memories long after I had left the store. Each day, I would find some excuse to pass by, hoping for a glimpse of her, my heart racing with anticipation.

When we finally married, it was a dream come true. But even on our wedding night, I found myself tangled in a web of conflicting emotions. Her poor face, bruised from a small accident due to her recklessness, tugged at my heartstrings. In that moment, vile words slipped out of my mouth—words I instantly regretted, knowing she was probably scared and upset. But I had to keep up the facade of a Volturi, a role my uncles insisted I maintain, warning me never to show vulnerability.

Behind this mask, however, was a deep love I couldn't fully express. My family had always emphasized strength and stoicism, leaving little room for vulnerability. Yet, every day with her challenged this notion, as my heart longed to reveal the truth of my feelings. I was torn between the expectations placed upon me and the genuine connection I felt with her.

Despite the pressure to conform, I cherished every moment with her. Each glance, each shared laugh, each quiet evening spent together reinforced the love I felt—a love that grew stronger with each passing day, hidden beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to be truly revealed.

Stubbing out the barely-there cigarette, I quietly made my way to the bathroom. My reflection stared back at me as I looked over my aging appearance. Ever since Marcus passed, I felt the weight of the underworld causing me to grow older—more mature, I suppose. Wrinkles that weren’t there months ago now crept onto my skin—still subtle, but more noticeable. My hair, at a length I wasn’t fond of, lay limp against my shoulders. I had always been clean-cut, never allowing facial hair or letting my hair grow past my ears.

I didn’t look like myself—perhaps this new persona was meant to be the version of Caius that my wife and child needed in this world. The loss of Marcus had not only aged me but also reshaped my perspective, pushing me to become someone they could rely on. It was as if his absence had cast a shadow over my life, urging me to step into a role I had never envisioned for myself.

My eyes glanced around the vanity—the silver scissors catching my eye with silent begging. They offered a chance to reclaim some part of my old self, a way to reconnect with the man I used to be. Yet, I hesitated, wondering if this change was truly what I wanted, or if it was just a reaction to the inner turmoil.

Memories flooded my mind—moments of laughter and camaraderie with Marcus, times when life seemed simpler and more predictable. Now, everything felt uncertain, and the burden of responsibility weighed heavily on my shoulders. I thought of my wife and child, the anchors in my life amidst the chaos. Perhaps they didn’t need the old Caius; perhaps they needed this new version, one who understood the fragility of life and the strength required to navigate it.

The scissors glinted under the harsh bathroom light, a reminder of choices yet to be made. Taking a deep breath, I picked up the tool and started cutting. I wasn’t a barber by any means, but as the hair fell into the sink, a figurative weight fell along with the strands. Each snip felt like a step toward embracing change, a move toward becoming the person my family needed me to be.

“Caius?”

Vanessa’s voice rang out softly, pulling me from my thoughts as I stood in the doorway. My head turned to look behind me, and I found her sitting up in bed, the early morning light spilling into the room. The strap of her nightgown had slipped down her shoulder, giving her an almost ethereal look as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. There was something undeniably beautiful about her, even in her groggy state, and it brought a smile to my face.

I glanced down at the pile of cut hair I had just placed into the bin, a testament to my impulsive decision. Taking a deep breath, I made my way into our room, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. As I settled onto the edge of the bed, her sleepy gaze met mine, and I could see the moment she processed my new appearance. The shorter hair felt liberating, yet I wondered how she would react.

Vanessa hesitated for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly as she reached up, her fingers brushing against the freshly cut locks. “What did you do?” she asked, a playful lilt to her voice, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement.

I tried to keep a straight face. “I decided to ditch the family business and start up my own barber shop.” I leaned in closer, attempting to maintain an air of seriousness despite the grin tugging at my lips.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she let out a soft sigh, leaning back onto the pillow, a mix of amusement and disbelief dancing in her expression. “Well—” she began, her voice trailing off as she took in my hair again. “Let’s just hope you haven’t turned in your notice yet.” A small smile broke across her beautiful face, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

I chuckled, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. “Not yet. I thought I’d try out the new look first. Maybe I’ll get some clients interested in my ‘barbering skills’.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes playfully, still grinning. “I can just imagine the sign outside: ‘Caius’s Cuts – where everything is half off, including your dignity.’”

We both laughed, the sound filling the quiet room, and I felt a warmth settle within me.

“Let’s go somewhere—” I blurted out, watching her eyebrows rise in surprise. “Get out of this dreary mansion and go somewhere fun and new.”

She paused, her gaze shifting to the window where rain drizzled steadily against the glass. “And have your uncle or Victor follow our every move?” she asked, her voice edged with skepticism.

I shook my head, determination in my eyes. “No, we’ll leave in the dead of night, and no one will know a thing.”

She looked down, her fingers tracing patterns on the comforters. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. “Caius—” she began, hesitating. “Aro will have a whole army looking for us, especially—” She glanced at her growing belly. “He’ll freak out.”

I rolled my eyes, feeling a surge of defiance. “We’re adults—married—about to be parental figures. Aro and Victor can fuck off for all I care.” I took her hands in mine, feeling their warmth as I pressed them against my cheek. “I just want to be alone and away from here with my beautiful wife.”

She let out a chuckle, the sound light and refreshing, as she shifted closer to me. “Is this your way of finally getting rid of me?” Her eyes sparkled with playful mischief.

“Never,” I assured her, grinning widely. “I just want us to have a moment that’s ours, away from all this.”

She nodded, her eyes meeting mine with a spark of excitement. “Then let’s do it. Let’s have our adventure.”

I smiled, feeling a sense of freedom already. “We’ll pack light, just the essentials. We’ll be back before they even realize we’re gone.” I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “Just us and the open road. No one to tell us what we can or can’t do.”

She leaned her head against my shoulder, letting out a contented sigh. “I’ve always wanted to see the mountains at sunrise.”

“Then that’s where we’ll go first,” I promised, imagining the cool fresh air. “And after that, wherever our hearts take us.”

For a moment, the weight of obligations and expectations lifted, replaced by the thrill of the unknown. We sat in comfortable silence, dreaming of a world that was just ours.

[oskea93]

Hello all!!

I just wanted to drop a post and let you all know that I haven’t forgotten about you guys or any of my stories - especially my Tyler Owen’s fic. I’ve been so busy with work and on top of that, i tested positive for covid the other day…. So, I’ve started on the next chapter for Kansas Anymore and I hope to have it out by the end of the week!

Again, thank you all for reading my fics and I am so glad that you are enjoying them ❤️

[oskea93]

What happened to the Caius fic? And the Caleb Sykes fic?

I’m still working on them 😊

My Tyler Owen’s fic is gonna be a short one, so the JCB fics will resume soon.

[oskea93]

Kansas Anymore: Drabble #1

Tyler Owens x OC

Summary: In which Riley Owens, the ex-wife of the infamous Tornado Wrangler, has 36 hours to come to terms if moving to a whole new country with their small daughter is something she truly wants to do.

Warnings: Cursing, angst

✶ Chapter One ✶ Chapter Two ✶

■ Italics = Flashback

■ A/N: So this is just a little outtake update. These drabbles will be focused in the past and will spill the tea on Tyler and Riley's relationship - good and bad. I am gonna start writing chapter three in the coming days so be on the lookout for that... And I may have another fic on the brain... Stay tuned ❤️

■ Taglist is available - just drop a comment! Would love to hear your thoughts, questions, or maybe just drop by to say hello! Can’t wait to hear from y'all

TL:  @ellesmythe  @18lkpeters @hookslove1592  @djs8891 @smoothdogsgirl @queenslandlover-93 @imjustamehbleh @love2write2626 @lt-jakeseresin @starcrossedtrek

@lauraseresin @axolotllover225 @kmc1989

“You can’t be serious right now!” My knuckles were white as my fingers curled tightly around the handle that sat above the window. “You’re gonna get us killed – fucking turn around!”

The car veered sharply around a corner, tires squealing against the asphalt. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing like a drum in my ears. The sky was pitch black, the only light coming from the dim glow of the dashboard and the constant flash of lightening high in the sky.

“Relax, I’ve got this!” Tyler’s voice was steady, but I could see the tension in his clenched jaw and the way his eyes darted to the rearview mirror as the funnel barreled closer.

“Relax? Are you kidding me?” I shouted over the roar of the engine. “We’re not in some action movie! You’re gonna get us both killed!”

He didn’t answer, just pressed harder on the gas pedal. The speedometer needle climbed higher, and I could feel the car vibrating with the effort. I glanced out the window, trees blurring into a dark smear as we raced past them.

“We can’t outrun a tornado, Tyler!” I yelled, the panic rising in my throat. “This is insane!”

Tyler glanced over, his hands reaching over, pulling the belt tighter across my chest. “Wanna bet?”

The wind howled outside, shaking the truck as if it were a toy. Debris flew past the windshield, some of it slamming against the car with loud thuds. I could barely see the road ahead; the rain was falling in sheets, and the wipers struggled to keep up.

“Tyler, please!” I tried to keep my voice steady, but it cracked with fear. “We need to find shelter, now!”

He ignored me, his eyes fixed on the road, his knuckles as white as mine on the steering wheel. The car hit a pothole, and we were jolted violently, my head smacking against the window despite the seatbelt. Pain shot through my skull, and I tasted blood.

“Damn it, Tyler!” I screamed, tears blurring my vision. “This isn’t worth it!”

In the distance, I could see the tornado’s massive funnel, an ominous silhouette against the flashes of lightning. It was like a monstrous black snake, twisting and writhing, consuming everything in its path. The sound was deafening, a constant roar that drowned out even our screaming.

“God dammit, Riley!” Tyler yelled. “I fucking got this!”

But the tornado was gaining on us, its monstrous form growing larger and more terrifying by the second. The air pressure dropped, my ears popping painfully. The car swerved again, narrowly missing a fallen tree branch.

“Tyler, we’re not gonna make it!” I sobbed, clutching the handle above the window as if it were a lifeline. My mind raced, picturing the car being lifted and tossed like a rag doll, the metal crumpling, the glass shattering. This couldn’t be how it ended.

With a final, desperate glance at the rearview mirror, Tyler seemed to make a decision. He yanked the wheel to the right, sending us skidding off the road and into a muddy field. The tires spun, struggling for traction, but Tyler kept the pedal to the metal, urging the car forward.

There wasn’t a house in sight – just an open field. I kept my eyes trained on the scene in front of us, glancing every other second to see how Tyler was reacting. His once cool and calm façade was now replaced by worry and fear – feelings that the so-called tornado wrangler never dared to show.

The car's headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the swirling chaos of wind and rain. The tornado’s monstrous form was a dark shadow against the flashes of lightning, growing larger and more menacing by the second. The air pressure dropped even further, making it hard to breathe, my ears popping painfully.

“Tyler, what are we going to do?” I cried, my voice barely audible over the roar of the storm. “There’s no place to hide!”

Tyler’s eyes darted around, searching for any sign of shelter, but the field stretched endlessly in every direction, offering no refuge. The car hit another bump, and I was thrown against the door, my heart racing faster than ever.

“Just hold on, Riley!” Tyler shouted; his voice tinged with desperation. The tires struggled to find traction in the muddy ground, the car fishtailing wildly.

I wasn’t the praying type – never having grown up going to church and all that, but at that moment I was desperate. “Please God – please God.” I whispered the words like a mantra, hoping some higher power would hear me, even if I had never believed before.

The wind howled around us, the noise deafening, as debris began to pelt the car. The windows rattled, threatening to shatter. The car lurched as it hit another rut, and I could hear Tyler cursing under his breath, fighting to keep control.

“Look!” Tyler yelled, pointing ahead. Through the sheets of rain, I could make out the faint outline of a small bridge, its weathered wood barely standing against the storm.

Tyler didn’t hesitate. He gunned the engine, aiming straight for the structure. The car bounced and jostled over the uneven ground, the structure growing larger and larger in our view. As we neared, Tyler slammed on the brakes, sending the car skidding to a halt against the side of the bridge. Without a word, we both threw open our doors and ran for cover, the wind nearly knocking us off our feet.

“Hold onto that pile!” Tyler’s voice was barely heard over the roar of the wind as I wrapped my arms around the wooden fixture. Tyler’s body hovered over mine as the rain pelted us sideways, mud and debris hitting us as the tornado approached. The red truck that Tyler treasured began to be pulled away only to be slammed back into the side of the bridge, my screams being overshadowed by the wind as nature’s force laid upon us. The wooden planks shuddered as the rusty nails began to give way, ripping off the top.

The bridge groaned and creaked, the old wood and metal straining under the sheer force of the tornado. Splinters flew through the air like missiles, and I pressed my face against the wooden pile, trying to shield myself from the onslaught. Tyler’s grip on me tightened, his body a protective barrier against the fury outside.

“We’re going to make it!” Tyler shouted, though his voice was filled with equal parts determination and fear. I held onto his words like a lifeline, my heart pounding in my chest.

The wind howled louder, and I could feel the bridge lifting slightly beneath us, threatening to be torn from its foundations. My mind raced with images of us being flung into the storm, the bridge collapsing, and Tyler’s truck being swallowed by the tornado. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying for the nightmare to end.

The noise was deafening, a relentless cacophony of wind, rain, and destruction. I felt like I was being pulled in every direction, the tornado’s force almost too much to bear. But Tyler’s presence kept me grounded, his unwavering strength giving me hope.

“Just a little longer!” Tyler yelled, his voice barely audible over the storm. “It’s almost over!”

A loud crack echoed through the air as one of the bridge’s support beams snapped, the structure shuddering violently. I tightened my grip on the pile, my knuckles white with the effort. The wind seemed to intensify, and I could feel my body being lifted slightly off the ground, the pull of the tornado almost irresistible.

And then, as suddenly as it began, the wind started to die down. The roar of the tornado faded, replaced by the steady patter of rain and the distant rumble of thunder. The pressure around us eased, and I dared to open my eyes.

The bridge was still standing, though barely. The top was partially ripped off, and debris was scattered everywhere, but we were alive. Tyler loosened his hold on me, glancing around to assess the damage.

“I think it’s moving away,” he said, his voice filled with cautious relief.

My eyes moved around, my body still shaking as tears started to prick against my eyes. The bridge was a tattered mess but for some reason we were still here – still alive. “You okay, baby?” Tyler’s hand caressed my arm, turning me to face him as he checked for any visible injuries. “Looks like everyth-“

“You stupid fucking asshole!” His body fell back at the force of my push.

Tyler's eyes widened in shock as he stumbled back, trying to comprehend the sudden shift in my demeanor. “What the hell, Riley!”

I could feel the anger boiling inside me, a mixture of fear, relief, and frustration. "You almost got us killed, Tyler! What were you thinking, driving straight into the storm like that?"

His eyes stayed connected with mine, searching for the right words but knowing they would still be wrong in my view. “Baby—” He sighed. “It’s a part of the job – tornadoes are my job.”

I stared at him, incredulous. "Your job? Your job is to drag me into life-and-death situations without even a warning? Without any regard for our safety?"

Tyler ran a hand through his hair, his face a mix of guilt and defensiveness. "I didn't expect it to get this bad. I thought we could get through it like we always do."

"Like we always do?" I echoed, my voice rising. "This isn't some routine storm chase, Tyler. This was a goddamn tornado! I could have died out there! We both could have!"

He took a step closer, his expression softening. "Riley, I know you're scared. I was scared too. But this is what I do. I study storms, I chase them. I can't just sit on the sidelines."

"But why drag me into it?" I asked, tears welling up in my eyes. "I didn't sign up for this."

Tyler took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving mine. "Because I need you with me. You're my anchor, Riley. You keep me grounded. I thought... I thought having you there would make it easier."

I shook my head, the tears spilling over. "It's not easier, Tyler. It's terrifying. I can't go through that again."

He stayed silent for a moment, “Would this be a bad time to ask you to marry me?”

My head jerking up, meeting his gaze, “What?”

I watched as he slowly reached into his denim pocket, pulling out the diamond ring. “I’ve had it in my pocket for about a week now – lost the damn box – almost lost the fucking ring a time or two.”

The tension in the air was palpable as Tyler revealed the ring. Despite the fear and adrenaline coursing through me from the storm, my heart skipped a beat. His eyes were earnest, filled with a mix of hope and apprehension.

"Riley," he began, his voice trembling slightly. "I know this isn't the most romantic proposal, and I know I've put you through hell. But I love you. I want to spend my life with you, chasing storms or not."

I stared at the ring, sparkling even under the dim light, and then back at Tyler. The weight of the moment pressed down on me, the reality of our dangerous lives juxtaposed with the promise of a future together. It was as if the storm outside mirrored the turmoil within me.

"Tyler," I whispered, my voice breaking. "This is crazy. You’re crazy."

He nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. "Maybe I am. But I’m crazy about you, Riley."

A laugh bubbled up, mingling with my tears. Despite everything, despite the fear and the chaos, there was love. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

I took a deep breath, my hand reaching out to touch the ring. "Yes," I said, my voice steadying. "Yes, I'll marry you."

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Tyler's face lit up with joy, and he slipped the ring onto my finger. It felt strange, comforting and surreal all at once. But in that instant, surrounded by the remnants of the storm, it felt right.

Tyler pulled me into an embrace, holding me tight as if he was afraid to let go. I could feel his heart pounding against mine, a rhythm that matched my own. The storm outside seemed to quiet, as if acknowledging the significance of our moment.

"I promise," Tyler murmured into my hair, "I'll do everything I can to keep you safe. I know it's dangerous out there, but I can't imagine facing it without you."

[oskea93]

Oh Lord

oH LOrd

OH LOOOORD