Page 32 of Branded Betrayal

He recoils at that, shock settling into his chiseled features. But in a hot second, it’s replaced by sheer anger. Without another word, he stalks toward his truck, the heels of his boots digging into the dirt.

I swallow hard past the lump lodged in my throat. After all this time, he still can’t communicate. At freaking all. How was I so stupid to think there could have ever been a future for us?

The Blaze I fell in love with so many years ago wasn’t like this hardened, jagged man. His edges started to fray after his mom died. But even then, he was still softer. Less jaded. And he actually smiled.

But now? It’s like I barely recognize him. Like the memories I have of him were just fabricated by my broken heart.

Except no matter how I try to bury the past, I can’t deny the effect he still has on my body, how all it takes is a look or a touch to be sucked right back into the days when I vied for his affection like a lovesick puppy.

With my body still shuddering from the aftershocks of his rough touch, I pull on work gloves with shaking hands and carry the can of feed over to the trough, his words reverberating between my temples. I drop the can on the ground in front of my feet.

The rumble of Blaze’s truck idles for a few long minutes before he finally speeds away, the tires kicking up a cloud of gravel in his wake.

He wants me to think I need him. But the only thing I need is to prove to him and everyone that I can do this on my own.

I stare at the back of his truck as it gets smaller and smaller, finally disappearing in the prairie grasses.

But I know he’ll be watching.

Protecting me or hunting me? I’m starting to think there’s no difference.

Chapter Twelve

Blaze

I can’t believe that fucking guy took her here to this shithole, making like it’s a date. Doesn’t she see through his bullshit?

I wrap my fingers tight around the steering wheel, jealousy coiling tight in my gut. Because yeah, I’m fucking envious. I wanna be the one next to Savannah, the reason for the smile on her face and her laughter in the air.

I turn off the ignition and jump out of the truck, chewing on a toothpick as I glare at Savannah and her date through the dusty window of the Boot Barn. My eyes don’t linger there too long, though. From my spot in the parking lot, I can see other people in the place, shooting pool, throwing darts, dancing in the center of the sticky, makeshift floor next to the jukebox.

Hank Williams Jr. drifts through the broken screen door, along with the stench of stale beer and leather. Everyone looks happy. Talking, laughing, dancing. But I know Wilkerson’s got eyes everywhere. And if he’s using Savannah as leverage against me, he knows she’s here right now. Which means one of his goons might be sniffing around her.

But the stakes are bigger now, and he’s not going to settle for scaring her.

If he goes after her again, it’ll be worse. So much worse, I can’t even stomach the thought of it.

I stalk toward the entrance, my boots landing heavy on the gravel-covered lot. The door squeaks as I yank it open.

I tug the brim of my hat low, unable to tear my eyes off her. She’s in tight jeans that hug every curve and a loose-fitting shirt unbuttoned enough that anyone looking can get a great view of her luscious tits. Long blond hair flows down her back. Her eyes glitter as Tyler lightly brushes her arm.

I grip the edge of the cracked wooden bar, fingertips digging into the grain almost as hard as my jaw clenches.

She should be looking at me that way, not him. Christ, he sticks out like a sore thumb, wearing those stupid loafers and chinos. And much as I wanna hate him for getting close to her, he looks like a decent guy. Like someone who isn’t gonna hurt her and break her heart.

Unlike me.

No, I don’t hate him. I wanna be him.

The bartender nods at me and puts a shooter of Wild Turkey down on the bar in front of me. “Appreciate your service, Blaze.”

My throat tightens to the point where I can barely squeeze out a breath. I grab the glass and toss it back.

A peal of laughter shatters my ears. I whip my head around to see Savannah giggling at something Tyler just said. He grins, looking damn pleased with himself. And that’s my cue to wipe that smug look off his frat-boy face.

Another shot of Wild Turkey appears in front of me, and just as I’m ready to shoot it, the creaky screen door swings open again, and my brother Wyatt walks in, a shit-eating grin on his face. A few of his friends clap him on the back in greeting as he entertains them all with details of his win tonight. I stay in the corner, watching as he approaches Savannah. He always had a thing for her when we were younger, but Savvie had eyes for another Hartman man.

Life is all about the choices we make. I chose fucking badly a million times over, which meant I would never have the happy ending.