Page 105 of Branded Betrayal

He planned this.

“Perfect timing,” he says. “They’re waiting for us.”

“W-who?” I barely manage to squeak out the words.

He flashes a smile. It’s sinister and promises something darker than I want to imagine.

The door to the warehouse opens. I jerk my head at the men walking toward the truck, all of them carrying guns.

My blood chills, the icy sensations like a stake driving deep into my heart.

Where the hell are we? And what are they going to do to me?

Tyler grabs me by the chin and pulls my face close to his. “Now, be a good girl, Savannah. Mr. Wilkerson doesn’t like it when people cause him trouble.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Blaze

Savannah’s words thunder in my ears.

I was pregnant.

Lost the baby.

My stomach clenches and unclenches, ready to revolt at any second. The sharp scent of antiseptic cleaner stings my nose, burning my throat. Jagged breaths make my lungs ache.

Everything is falling apart. Every fucking thing.

I drag myself off the floor of the hospital, staggering to my feet after one too many orderlies ask if I need help. I do, but I shouldn’t get it. I was a willing participant in this shit show, so it’s up to me to find my way out of it.

Thank God Wyatt texted me when Savannah showed up here. And then finding out about the baby . . . our baby . . . the despair I left her with when I enlisted, the constant reminder of what we had and what I stole from her when I disappeared from her life . . . if I wasn’t broken before, I definitely am now.

I walk out of the hospital, legs shaking as if the ground is quaking under my feet. I pull my phone out of my pocket and stare at the screen before unlocking it. I dial Savannah’s number, but it goes straight to voicemail. The normal, cheerful tone of her voice on the recorded message cracks my heart open a little more. I dial her number three more times before I climb into my truck, but she never answers.

Trying to keep her in the dark about Wilkerson and his plans, thinking ignorance would keep her safe . . . Christ, it was so fucking stupid. She already overheard too much, and now she knows about things that can hurt her or worse. Now it’s up to me to fill in the blanks enough so that she will understand the kind of danger she’s in as long as she’s associated with me.

I need to find her. I have to tell her everything. She may hate me for the rest of her life, but at least she’ll be alive. And I’m pretty sure it’s enough to drive her away from Whiskey Creek forever.

I text her before pressing the ignition button.

Please just let me know you’re safe.

A delivery error flashes on the screen. Her phone must be off.

Dammit.

I drive back to Red Rock. Maybe she headed back there.

A slice of icy unease assaults my spine. What if she called Tyler? Looking for comfort after I just took a sledgehammer to everything she thought she knew?

I stomp my foot on the gas and speed down the highway that leads to her ranch. My heart thrashes as I head up the drive. I stare up at the house from my truck. It’s completely dark. The ranch hands are with the cattle in one of the far pastures, but there’s no sign of her.

And her car is nowhere to be found.

I swallow hard, panic burning my insides like acid. She could have run.

But I don’t think she did. She wouldn’t leave Red Rock without at least sending a text. Maybe she went somewhere to blow off steam and get her head straight. Christ knows, Nash and I fed her enough to make it spin off her neck.