Intertwined

Twenty One

Cassidy

The seven hours back to Plainview were the most grueling seven hours I had ever experienced. Houston never said a word the entire trip, Dallas stayed silent, and I was forced to endure the awkward silence. I told Houston that I was ready to commit to a relationship with us; this is what he wanted with him and me.

When we were ten miles from the ranch and I recognized the familiar ranches and farms, I gave up on abiding by the unsaid silence. I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed, "This is unreasonable. You two haven't talked this entire trip."

Sets of blue and green eyes peered back at me through the rearview mirror, with curious and vexed gazes. Neither brother said a word back.

"You two are brothers," I exclaimed, resting my chin on the seat in front of me and staring at Houston. "Before we left, Lisa said how you two were best friends growing up and practically joined at a hip. Will you never speak to each other again?"

Houston said his first words of the trip, "Yes, and I hope Dallas goes to Fort Worth immediately. He's a waste of my time."

Dallas grumbled his reply, snarkily, "You know what? I think I might stay a few days longer. I heard the Scarlett Inn is wonderful from what I heard."

"Who told you that?" Houston questioned, his eyebrows scrunching and smirk contorting in disgust. "Never mind, I don't care. You can die in a ditch for all I care."

In reply, Dallas shrugged his shoulders as he turned into the ranch, and pulled up next to Houston's truck.

To resolve the tension, I added, "Your mother, Lisa, told me that you two will eventually make up eventually."

"Not happening." Houston opened the car door and led him and me out of the car, as the built-up wrath and resentment rose inside him. The anger radiated off of Houston in waves, as his face grew red and his calm demeanor cracked under the pressure. 

This Houston wasn't the grumpy, surly man I normally teased on an average day, but it didn't stop me from disrupting his anger.

As Houston stomped off, I ran to him and wrapped my arms around his torso, breathing his familiar scent for the last time. The years of being a deceitful, conniving little sister paid off as I exchanged the keys from his pocket to mine, without a single flinch. It was for the best; I hated seeing Houston continuously fight his brother.

It was Houston's choice initially to cut off Dallas, but seeing Houston in his hometown changed my whole perspective. Beneath his tough exterior, he was a family man at heart. When the pieces needed to be picked up after his father's stroke, he picked them up one by one and took care of every worry for the next two days. Houston put his family's needs before his own.

Everyone knew this fight wasn't going to last, except for Houston.

Houston yelled by the porch, emptying his jeans pockets, "Cassidy, I can't find my keys."

I hid the keys in a flower pot on the porch and acted dumb, as Houston searched every nook and cranny for the keys. Dallas exited the car wearing a leather jacket and aviator sunglasses and raised his eyebrows at the scene. I wasn't entirely sure if Dallas caught on to my plan, but I hoped he would go along with it.

Houston was a stubborn ass.

While Houston resorted to searching the car for his keys, Dallas strolled up to me and said in a dignified, mature tone, "So where'd you hide the keys?"

"H-How do you know I'm the one who hid the keys?" I answered the question with a question, my tone of voice wavering for a split second. "M-Maybe Houston did lose them. He loses things a lot."