This could end up sucking big time.
The truck rolls to a stop, and when the door swings open, the last person I want to see steps out. Colter.
Of course.
“What the hell do you want?” I snap, folding my arms.
“Get in the truck,” he says flatly, all command, no patience.
I let out a sharp laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I don’t have time for this shit.” His voice cuts sharper. “Get in the goddamn truck.”
“Fuck you,” I shout back, spinning on my heel and striding toward Broken Ridge.
I wonder if I can outrun him?
Doubt it. Not in these sandals, at least.
“What the hell are you doing walking in the fucking dark, Peyton?” His voice is deep, with a low growl.
Ignoring him, I keep walking. “Getting away from you. Now go away.”
Colter curses up a storm, and my soul lightens at causing his frustration.
“Stop acting like a fucking child,” he roars. “Get in the fucking truck, and we’ll talk about it.”
Stopping, I turn around to glare at him. “There is nothing to talk about, Colter. I want to go back to the ranch.”
He stalks toward me, slow and deliberate, like a predator closing in. My instincts scream at me to run, but the damn sandals on my feet would trip me before I got ten steps. I should’ve kicked them off.
Too late now.
So I plant my feet, lift my chin, and brace myself. If he wants to get in my face and scream, fine. I can scream right back.
But that’s not what happens.
One second, he’s a few feet away, shadow and menace wrapped in muscle. The next, I’m flipped up and over his shoulder like I weigh nothing, air rushing from my lungs in a shocked gasp. My view of the world tilts, all dirt road and his broad back, until all I can see is gravel crunching under his boots.
For a beat, I’m too stunned to react. Then rage explodes through me. My fists pound against his back, wild and useless.
“Put me down!” I scream, my voice ricocheting off the empty night. “Do you hear me? Put me the hell down!”
The fucker ignores me and keeps walking.
“Shut the fuck up, Peyton,” he snarls. I hear his truck door open and then I am haphazardly thrown into the backseat before he slams the door in my face. I open my mouth to scream when I meet a pair of large, curious brown eyes.
Wonderful, he’s stuck me in the same truck as his cock-sucking girlfriend. She sits in the passenger seat, a sneer on her swollen lips.
The driver’s door jerks open, and Colter climbs inside. His girlfriend drops the sneer and pastes a bright smile on her face. He doesn’t look at either of us as he shifts into gear and pulls back on the road. My plan to scream at him disappears. I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of the blonde.
“What the hell are you doing out on the road this late, Peyton?”
“Walking back to the ranch,” is my only response.
“This fucking late?”
I shrug. “Didn’t want to stay.”
