Page 13 of Branded Betrayal

Running is what got me into this mess in the first place.

A tear slips out of the corner of my eye, and as a slight breeze whispers through the air, the wind chimes ring softly overhead. Just like they did back at Red Rock earlier today. A shiver runs through me, and I rub my hands down the front of my skirt.

And I think about my aunt, lying lifeless in her lavender field, all alone. She’d be so disappointed to see me crumble like this. I suck in air and ball my fingers into tight fists.

This ranch is all I have left of her. I won’t lose it. And I’ll be damned if I let this town see me fail.

In my periphery, a familiar black Ford F-150 appears. Wrath pounds through my temples as Blaze slowly cruises down the street. His eyes tangle with mine as he passes, a pulse of heat coiling in my core.

I let him in once, and he wrecked me.

But I’m not that girl anymore. I won’t fall for his bad boy charm this time around.

Six months to save the ranch, six months to prove Nash wrong, six months to make Blaze choke on his doubt . . . even if it kills me.

Chapter Four

Blaze

My friend Liam’s dog tags sit on my dresser like an accusation.

I run my finger over his name engraved on the metal, forcing the toxic memories to scatter to the corners of my mind.

I can’t forget the look in his eyes when he found out the “mission” I was responsible for was actually running guns and selling contraband on the black market. I told him to stay back and keep an eye on the guys, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

He wanted to protect his brother.

And those motherfuckers killed him.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Chaos. Every decision I make, every action I take. It all leads to utter fucking chaos and destruction.

I couldn’t save Mom, I couldn’t save Savannah’s family, I couldn’t save Liam.

I’ve only been back in Whiskey Creek for a few days, and I can feel it starting all over again. The quicksand. The pull toward destruction. Wilkerson’s been quiet since I saw him, but I know what’s coming. Whatever job he’s got planned, whatever price he’s gonna make me pay . . . it’s definitely coming.

And someone I care about will end up suffering for it.

Like Savannah.

When Nash called me that night after I told her we were a mistake, frantic about an accident that almost killed her a little while after she left my place . . .

Fuck.

I knew immediately it had been Wilkerson’s doing. He was sending a message to me using my soft spot for Savannah. And I couldn’t handle the thought of him hurting her more than I already had. He already had too much on me that could have wrecked everyone I cared about if it was exposed.

Complete chaos. My life went into a tailspin.

So I left for the military. I didn’t want my shitty judgment to tarnish anyone else’s lives. I figured I could finally get out from under Jack’s thumb. Leaving would get me out of the toxic cycle that consumed my life. I could distance myself from my father’s failures and protect Savannah by disappearing. She’d eventually move on, do something great with her life, and forget about me.

It’s damn ironic that I left Whiskey Creek in part to protect the people I loved, only to cause so much pain and suffering for others along my path.

Maybe everything that went down overseas was my penance for leaving home and abandoning the people who cared about me. My karma.

Maybe coming back was always inevitable. Dad made sure of that when he gambled away more money that he didn’t have and went crawling back to Wilkerson for more. And when Wilkerson called to tell me I was coming home to clean up Dad’s newest mess, I knew I was out of options. The debt was too big, and the ultimatum was clear—work it off, or watch what happens to all the people I left behind.

So here I am. Back in Whiskey Creek, a place I swore I’d never come back to, doing jobs for a man I hate, all because my father is a selfish fuckup.

I grab my hat and put it on before leaving my childhood bedroom.