Page 115 of Branded Betrayal

“You should have died that night. Not them. You,” Nash bites out, his voice shaking with rage.

Savannah makes a muffled sound behind the tape, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m glad we’re all on the same page now,” Wilkerson says. “But we’re wasting time. Blaze, you’ve become a problem. You were supposed to make Savannah desperate enough to sell her ranch. Instead, you fucked up my timeline. That makes you useless to me. And I don’t keep useless employees.”

He steps toward me. “You failed. So now I’m handling it directly.”

“She won’t sell,” I say.

“We’ll see about that. I suspect she’s about to become much more cooperative.” His expression hardens, and he nods to his men. “Kill Colt and Harlon. Wound Nash. I want him alive for leverage. And Blaze . . .” He pauses. “Make him suffer first.”

“You really are a twisted fucking maniac.” I shake my head.

“Maybe. But I’m a damn good businessman, and I know when an asset becomes a liability. I tried to show you what would happen if you didn’t stop defying me. I sent you messages. Like your brother’s accident. But you never learned your lesson. So here we are. And I’m ready to eliminate another problem.”

A cold sweat crawls down my spine. Savannah shakes her head wildly, her face wet with tears.

I look around at the menacing faces watching us. Ready to jump into action at Wilkerson’s command.

Savvie is in the middle. Vulnerable and exposed.

My brother. Nash. They’re here because of me. In the direct line of fire.

How the hell am I going to save us all this time?

Blood rushes between my temples, so loud it drowns out all thought.

Chaos tears through the tense silence. Gunfire erupts, Wilkerson’s men firing first. Colt and Nash dive behind nearby containers, firing shots at Wilkerson’s men. My focus is on Savannah. I run toward her and drop to my knees. I pull a hunting knife from my ankle strap and cut through the ties. I snake an arm around her waist and carry her behind a pile of wooden crates.

“This is gonna hurt,” I mumble, pulling off the tape fast. But she’s so hysterical, I doubt she felt anything. I position her behind me, peering around the side and squeezing off a few shots. In the amount of time I grabbed Savvie, three of Wilkerson’s men are lying on the ground, pools of blood seeping into the concrete under them.

The thugs close in on Colt and Nash. I turn to Savannah. “You need to stay here, okay? Don’t move. I need to help the guys.”

She shakes, her arms wrapped tight around her knees. “H-help them.”

I start to crawl out from the crates when one of the guys charges me, knocking the gun out of my hand. I duck out of the way of his fist and land a shot square on his jaw. He flies backward against a crate and crashes against the floor. I grab the gun and squeeze off a shot. He slumps over, and I run toward my brother.

Colt reloads his gun and takes aim. There are only about two or three guys left. Plus Wilkerson and that psycho vet.

“No!” Savannah’s cry punctures the air.

I turn to see Tyler raise his gun in my direction, but I don’t wait for him to take the shot. I lunge for him, ignoring the crack of bullets around me. I tackle him into a metal shelf. His gun clatters as it hits the ground. Boxes of rusty equipment fall around us where we roll around on the ground, fists swinging.

“Nash,” Savvie cries out.

A quick look over my shoulder makes my gut clench. Nash is hit.

Colt drops another one of the gunmen and pulls Nash back behind the container. A fist grips the back of my hair and yanks me backward. Tyler hurls me into the cracked concrete wall. Adrenaline fires into every cell as I slap the sides of it. I flip him around and back him into the wall, my hand around his throat.

He thrashes, one hand gripping my wrists, his legs kicking me. His pupils blow open wide as he struggles to breathe. Then a searing pain explodes into my abdomen, like my flesh is being torched by the blade driven into it.

That motherfucker just stabbed me.

I let go of him and double over, my hand covering the wound. Staggering into the shelf, I hold a hand to my side, my fingers sticky and warm as blood flows through them.

Tyler grabs Savannah and holds up the scalpel to her throat. I stare at Savvie, praying she can read my mind right now. “You lost, Hart—”

She lets her knees buckle and drops to the floor. I fire off a single shot, hitting Tyler square between the eyes. He crumples to the floor. I scoop up Savannah and start to pull her back behind the crates when Wilkerson’s voice rings out.