“For me. Not you.” He touched her nose, a silent warning to keep it out of his business. Then his mouth quirked. “Turnabout is fair play. Get out, Princess Peyton. And take your pet with you.”
Cade suddenly released her, catching her off-guard. She stumbled, and laughter spread around the room. A second later, Dawson was at her side. He caught her elbow and hurried her toward the exit.
The echo of Cade’s laughter followed her into the parking lot.
TWELVE
Dawson picked up another hay bale and tossed it from the back of the truck onto the stacked pile in the barn. Sweat beaded on his brow. He’d shed his jacket and sweater a while ago, the frigid air a welcome relief. It’d been a full day since they’d left Sidewinders, but not even physical labor had improved his mood. Every time he thought about Cade touching Peyton, rage rolled through him again.
It was an anger he had no right to. He knew that. Peyton had done her job and done it well.
But it was there all the same.
The barn door hinges creaked, and he sensed her before she spoke. Dawson stiffened. He bent down and hefted another hay bale out of the old work truck. Then her voice reached him, floating across the space. “Where are all the horses?”
“In the new barns.” His words were clipped. Cool as the wintry night. He chucked another bale.
“Is everything okay?” Peyton leaned casually against an empty stall. She looked beautiful and relaxed in a tracksuit, her hair tossed up into a casual ponytail. “You’ve been pretty quietall day, since church this morning, and you ran out so fast after dinner that you missed dessert.”
“I didn’t want any.” He could barely force himself to sit at the table and choke down the meal.
Her brows arched in disbelief. “Peach cobbler is your favorite.”
Dawson didn’t answer. There was nothing he could say that wouldn’t start an argument, so he chucked another hay bale from the truck. It landed in place, and then toppled from the spot, landing in a heap on the floor. He’d thrown it with too much force.
“I was hoping we could talk about Cade and what happened last night.”
“We already did.” She’d told him what they’d discussed during the dance, when he was out of earshot. Thinking of it again spiked his heart rate. He tossed the last bale from the truck and ripped off his work gloves. The exertion had left his body weary, but his mind was still unsettled.
“Yeah, but I’ve been thinking, and I have some theories.”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t talk about Cade. Not yet. “We’ll discuss it tomorrow.”
Peyton frowned. “Are you angry with me?”
He jumped from the truck. “I’m tired, and I want to get this work done.”
“Really? Cuz it seems like you’re mad at me.”
He was, but he also knew he couldn’t talk about this without losing his temper. And it wasn’t fair to Peyton. She was worried sick about Lilia, and while she was handling it well, he knew there was a breaking point. Dawson tossed his gloves through the open window of the truck.
Peyton threw up her hands in exasperation. “You always do this. You stew and grumble and avoid until I force you to facewhat you don’t want to say. It’s so frustrating! Just spit it out, Dawson. I don’t need you to protect me.”
“You don’t need me to…” He sputtered. “Were you there last night? You waltzed into a biker bar and deliberately provoked the most dangerous man in the room. You put yourself in danger, and for what? We’re no closer to figuring out where Lilia is. The only thing we accomplished was putting you on Cade’s radar.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “In case you haven’t noticed, I was already on his radar. Or did the bullets in your truck yesterday afternoon not send a big enough message?”
“Those might not have been from Cade. We know the Iron Serpents are involved in some way, but it’s not clear Cade is calling the shots. It could be someone challenging him for leadership and taking advantage of the situation.” Dawson felt his voice rise. “What I know is that you’ve been warned. If you step wrong in this investigation, and Cade feels threatened, he will kill you. No questions asked.”
The very thought made him sick and fueled his temper. He was angry at her for putting herself in harm’s way, and more angry with himself for caring so much. “What are the chances I have of convincing you to step back and let us handle this investigation? None.”
Frustrated with himself for yelling, he turned away from her and braced his hands on the empty horse stall. He felt rather than heard her move closer, then a hand came to rest on his back. “Dawson.”
The softness in her voice urged him to speak the truth. “I hated it. Standing by and watching that criminal put his hands on you…I haven’t felt that helpless since…” His voice choked up.
“Since Samuel died,” she finished softly.
He shook his head, trying hard to dislodge the images crowding his mind. Her tear-stained cheeks, lying in bed in thedark day after day, shuffling around the house in a robe, her face gaunt and haunted. “I couldn’t protect you then either. I tried…God knows I tried.”
