89 "the press"

I woke to shouting. Not ranch noise.Not cattle. Not the men.Voices. Dozens of them.Loud enough to carry through the walls of the house and straight into my chest.At first I thought I was dreaming.Then I heard camera shutters. Then someone yelled my name. I shot upright in bed.Walker stirred beside me instantly."What is that?" I whispered. His face darkened before he even look out the window."Stay here."My stomach dropped. He crossed to the curtains and peeled them back. Then muttered under his breath—

"Jesus Christ."

I was beside him in seconds. And froze.The road beyond the ranch gates was packed.News vans. Camera crews. Satellite trucks.People shoulder-to-shoulder behind barricades of their own equipment, microphones raised, cameras aimed at the property like predators waiting for something to crawl out.Even from the window I could hear them."Willie Dutton!"

"Miss Dutton, are the allegations true?"

"How do you respond to accusations of racially motivated violence?"

"Did you murder Gabriel Red Elk because he was Native American?"My blood went cold. "No..." I whispered.Walker immediately shut the curtain."Don't look at 'em." But it was too late.I was already shaking.

The entire house had become a bunker by breakfast. Rip was outside with law enforcement. John was on the phone screaming at half the state.Beth paced like a caged wolf. Patsy had no idea what was happening. "Why are there so many people outside?" she asked while coloring at the table. "Just nosy folks, baby," Walker said gently. I could barely breathe. Every television channel. Every phone notification. Every newspaper. My face. My name.Governor's Daughter Accused in Hate Crime Killing

Willie Dutton Under Scrutiny for Brutal Death of Native Rancher

Racially Motivated Murder? Questions Swirl Around Yellowstone Assistant

It was like the entire world had decided who I was. And no one had asked me. No one cared.I felt sixteen again.  No—fifteen. Dirty. Powerless. Guilty for something done to me.

By afternoon the police had made no progress.Rip stormed through the front door, jaw tight, hat in hand. "They ain't leavin'."John looked up from his desk. "What do you mean they ain't leaving?"Rip's voice was clipped. "They're on county road. Public property. Sheriff says unless they trespass, they stay."

John stood so fast his chair scraped violently."You're tellin' me my daughter is trapped in this house while a goddamn circus camps outside my gate?!"

Rip didn't answer. Because yes.That's exactly what he was telling him.Walker came in behind Rip, face thunderous."One of 'em tried askin' Patsy through the fence if her mama kills Indians."

The room went silent. Something inside me shattered. Walker's eyes cut immediately to me—realizing too late what that statement had done. My breathing broke. No. No no no no—My knees buckled before I even understood what was happening. Walker moved first, but I was already on the couch, curled in on myself so hard my ribs hurt. My knees to my chest.Hands over my ears. Hair falling in my face.I couldn't stop shaking. I couldn't stop hearing it. Kills Indians. Racist. Murderer. Monster.My breaths came too fast. Too shallow. I couldn't get enough air. Walker dropped beside me immediately. "Mama—hey—look at me."I couldn't. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.His hands gently tried to pry mine from my ears. "You're okay—"

"No—" My voice cracked. "No no no—"My whole body trembled violently."They think—" I choked. "They think I—"Walker gathered me against him."I know. I know."

"I didn't—" I sobbed. "I didn't do that—I didn't—"

"I know you didn't." John stood across the room, face pale with fury.Then finally— He said it. "There will be a court case."Everything stopped. Even my crying.I looked up slowly. My face wet. My chest burning. "What?"

John's jaw clenched. "The tribe is pushing for prosecution. State may press charges if public pressure gets high enough."The room tilted. Walker's arm tightened around me. "No," I whispered.John nodded grimly. "It's possible you'll be charged."

My hands went back to my head instinctively. No. No. No— I curled tighter, fingers tangling in my hair, palms pressed to my ears again like if I held myself together hard enough maybe I wouldn't come apart. Walker rubbed my back helplessly. Beth—of all people—spoke next."The system will side with the reservation every damn time," she muttered bitterly. "Doesn't matter what he did to her. Doesn't matter if he raped her in broad daylight. The optics alone are enough to bury her.""Beth," Walker snapped.

"What?" she barked. "I'm telling the truth."It was cruel. But it was true. And somehow that made it worse. John crouched in front of me."We'll get ahead of this."

I stared blankly. "I'll hire the best defense attorney in the state."I swallowed hard. "There's only one that could beat this." Everyone looked at me. My voice was barely audible. "Jamie." The room chilled instantly. Beth let out a disgusted scoff."Absolutely not." John's face hardened. "He is not an option."

"He's the best," I whispered.

"He's a traitor," Beth spat.

"He hates this family," John added.

I looked down. "Then I'm screwed." Walker's hand gripped mine. "No, you are not." John stood.

"I will fix this." Outside another round of shouting erupted from the road. A reporter screamed my name through a megaphone.John lost it. He grabbed the whiskey tumbler from the mantle and hurled it into the stone fireplace. Glass exploded.

"THEN I'LL BUY THE FUCKING ROAD TO MAKE THIS END!"

I jumped with chills down my spine. I quivered.  Then clamped my hands over my ears again, shrinking hard into Walker's chest.The sound of breaking glass—The yelling— It all hit too much. Walker glared at John. "Alright!"John froze.Walker stood slowly, helping me with him."She can't take much more of this."John's expression flickered—anger, guilt, helplessness.

For once— He had no command to give. No fix.No speech. Because this wasn't cattle. Or politics. Or land. This was me. Broken right in front of him. Walker led me upstairs while the house continued roaring behind us. I didn't hear much. Didn't process much. Just his hand in mine. His voice low and steady. One foot in front of the other. Again. And again. Until we reached our room. He shut the door. Locked it.And I collapsed onto the floor before I made it to the bed. Walker dropped with me.Held me there. On the floor. While I shook."They're gonna take me away," I whispered.

"No they're not."

"They'll say I'm a monster—"

"They already are," he said softly. "And they're wrong."

Tears streamed down my face.

"What if they don't care?"

He cupped my face.

"Then I'll stand in that courtroom and tell every one of them exactly what happened to you."

I shook harder.

"What if they still don't care?"

Walker's eyes burned into mine.

"Then we burn the whole goddamn world down anyway."

And for the first time all day— I laughed.Just once. Broken and wet and shaky. But real.Walker pressed his forehead to mine."You hear me, blondie?"I nodded weakly. He kissed my trembling lips."I ain't lettin' them bury you."

Outside— The shouting continued.The cameras flashed.The world waited to watch me fall.But inside that room—In his arms—I tried to remember how to breathe again.