Page 118 of Branded Betrayal

When I don’t answer or look at him, he stammers, “You know, I . . . I’m just gonna make some. I’ll be right back.”

I pick up the soft crocheted blanket and wrap it around my shoulders. Stepping toward the fireplace mantel, I gaze at the happy faces that stare back, my eyes glazing over.

They’re the same photos that greeted me when I first came here weeks ago.

But now they all look different.

Because those faces smiling at me now all had shared knowledge I didn’t. And if I did, I might have been able to save them.

I pad over to the couch and sink onto the worn cushion, curling up against the arm closest to the fireplace. I stare at the stone wall, my eyes tracing over every jagged line for what feels like hours.

Nash walks in and hands me a mug. I blink fast to focus on the pink cup with the hairline crack down the side. A faint smile lifts my lips. I saw it in the cupboard when I got here and decided to never get rid of it.

Mom loved the color pink, and the crack made me believe that everything was salvageable. The mug still worked just fine even though it was damaged. It still held hot drinks, still served its purpose. I could work with that.

I raise my tired and burning eyes to Nash and take the mug.

Unfortunately, not everything is as redeemable.

I barely feel the heat of the cup as I wrap my hands around it.

The silence between us is deafening. I raise the cup to my lips and take a sip of the chamomile before I speak.

“I trusted him, and he sabotaged me. Caused countless problems on my ranch. All while he was sleeping in my bed.” My temples ache, the crushing tension making my eyes float closed for a second. “And you. All those accusations about leaving you behind, the endless guilt trips about not coming to visit, not taking care of things. Your bitterness, your anger. All of it was you deflecting.”

I open my eyes. “You’re as big of a liar as Blaze is. You knew all along what I didn’t, and you let me live with that grief and guilt for years. I hate you for that.” I seethe. “I left to get away, because I felt like I had nothing here. You left me on my own to deal with the aftermath of your mistakes, and then you had the nerve to attack me for leaving when you’re the one who was complicit.” I put my mug down on a coaster next to me and stand up, my heart beating a hole in my chest. “How could you have done that, Nash? How could you have let all of that happen?”

Nash brings a hand to the back of his neck, his green eyes wet with tears. “I never in a million years thought anything like that could ever happen. I should have been smart enough to speak up when Harlon didn’t show. But by then, it was too late. Those guys drove up, and . . .” He shakes his head and sits down on a chair, covering his head with his hands. “You don’t think I regret it all every fucking day? Going along with the job in the first place? Keeping everything from you? You deserved to know the truth, and I should have been honest about it. I’m sorry.” He looks up at me, and a tear slips down his cheek. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Nash pauses and lets out a sigh. “But Blaze . . . he was in deep, Savvie. Wilkerson had him by the throat. I didn’t even know how tight his grip was until today.”

“I know,” I say, my voice flat. “Wilkerson would have killed him. It was never an idle threat that kept him in line.” I stare at the steam curling up from the top of the mug. “But he still chose to lie to me. Every day. Every time I asked about what was happening.”

“He was trying to protect you, just like I was.”

I press my fingertips to my temples to stop the room from spinning, frenzied thoughts bouncing back and forth in my mind. So much deception. Blaze conspiring against me, Tyler exploiting my vulnerability, my beloved Miss Bea dead, my heart shattered in so many pieces I don’t know if it can ever be put back together.

“I’m leaving,” I rasp.

Nash looks up from the area of the floor he’s been studying. “What?”

“I can’t stay in Whiskey Creek. I can’t be here anymore. Not right now.”

He springs up from the couch. “Savvie, you’re in shock. You shouldn’t make any big decisions right—”

But I don’t let him finish. I head for the stairs. “I’m going back to Denver.” As I look around, my heart stutters. “I can’t stay here. Everything reminds me of his lies. Of yours. I need to get away from it all.”

Nash takes a couple of tentative steps toward me. “At least sleep on it. You’ve got a renter for the land with more hopefully on the way. Get some rest, and you’ll feel better tomorrow. Besides, you’re in no condition to drive, with your wrists and all.”

“Nothing is written in stone. And I’m a big girl. I can deal with some scratches.” My lips pull into a tight line. “I’ve survived worse.”

I can’t wait. I can’t breathe here anymore. My plans don’t mean shit anymore. I walk past every spot where Blaze and I made love, every place where my heart had been dancing in my chest, where hope had flared that this could be a new beginning for us.

That hope fizzled faster than a candle in a rainstorm.

Nash follows me. “What about the ranch? This is your home—”

“It’s another reminder. Of Aunt Marg dying, of Mom and Dad dying.” My voice hitches. “Too many bad memories. I don’t want it anymore.”