s4- No second chances

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Morning light painted the landscape as Rip roused Carter from sleep with a gruff command. "Get up. Let's go," he ordered, setting the tone for the day ahead.

As they made their way to Rip's truck, Spencer rushed out to bid them farewell, her small figure waving frantically as the vehicle pulled away. Carter caught her gesture in the rearview mirror, a flicker of connection amidst the tension.

Further down the road, Carter attempted to light a cigarette, prompting a swift rebuke from Rip. "That'll be the last fucking thing you do," Rip warned sternly, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

Carter, resigned but defiant says, "You can drop me off anywhere. You don't have to take me into town," he suggested.

But Rip remained resolute. "What, so you can rob somebody else's ranch? No, your ass is going to town," he declared firmly, his resolve unshaken.

Carter, his frustration palpable, pushed back. "All I asked for was a chance," he retorted bitterly.

Rip's response was uncompromising. "No, you didn't ask for shit. You puppy dogged my Lady and daughter and they asked me," he reminded Carter bluntly, his voice tinged with annoyance. "And the answer's no. I don't care how much good Spencer thinks she sees in you. You don't get a chance. "

Defeated, Carter lapsed into silence, his gaze fixed outside the window as the landscape blurred past. "Ain't that the fucking truth. fuck you," he muttered under his breath, the bitterness evident in his tone.

Rip, his patience worn thin, brought the truck to a halt, his anger palpable. "Get out of my truck. Get the fuck out, " he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. With a forceful shove, he ejected Carter and his belongings onto the roadside, his frustration boiling over. "Get out of here," he spat, his voice tinged with anger and disappointment.

As Rip drives away, a picture flutters down from the visor, catching his eye. It's a photograph of Spencer. Regret gnawed at him as he glanced in the rearview mirror at Carter, a moment of hesitation flickering across his features.

Unable to shake the feeling, Rip made a decision. Turning the truck around, he retraced his path until he reached Carter sitting on the roadside. "Come on! Come on get back in." he called out, his voice carrying a mixture of frustration.

The journey continued in strained silence until Rip broke the quiet with a gruff observation. "Life doesn't give people like you chances, kid, if you haven't noticed and asking for one is a waste of goddamn time," he remarked bluntly.

Carter, grappling with his own sense of agency, posed a question. "So I'm supposed to just take what I get in life?"

Rip sighed heavily. "Ask me for something else," he urged, his tone softer now, tinged with a hint of empathy.

Carter seized the opportunity. "Like what?"

Rip offered a proposition. "Like a job,"

Carter asked, his voice tinged with hope. "Can I have a job?"

"Can you ride?" Rip queried.

"No," Carter confessed, his tone tinged with regret.

Rip pressed on. "Can you rope?"

"No," Carter admitted reluctantly.

Rip, resigned to the reality before him, brought the truck to a halt. "You see that bag in the field?" he asked, gesturing towards the distant horizon. "Go ahead and take your backpack off. I want you to run out there and I want you to grab it for me. And just bring it back. Go ahead."

Carter complied, his footsteps echoing across the open expanse as he retrieved the bag. Returning to the truck, he awaited Rip's next instructions.

Rip standing with his hand on his hips says, "There'll be no stealing, you understand me? If I catch you stealing, you are fucking gone. And be nice to my kid, you hurt her, you're dead. You hear me?" he warned sternly, his gaze unwavering.

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