Page 8 of Branded Betrayal

“Didn’t think I was welcome. Still don’t.”

“You’re a coward for hiding. A pathetic excuse for a man.”

“Oh, you think I’m a pathetic coward? Who was it who ran to hide in an easy life and a Denver boardroom?” I shake my head and let out a sharp laugh. “Don’t you think you might be projecting here, Savvie?”

“Don’t call me that,” she hisses.

“I remember you liking it a hell of a lot when you were under me,” I growl, inching toward her. “Remember?”

My blood burns. All of the pent-up guilt and regret bubble to the surface. Looking into her angry gaze, I feel like I’m spiraling all over again, and the only way I can ground myself is to pull someone else into it all.

Her eyes pop open wide, cheeks flushing a deep red. “You arrogant asshole. Only people I care about get to call me Savvie. And I don’t give a damn about you. In fact, I hate you.”

I nod, a lazy smirk lifting my lips to prove that her words don’t grate against my fucking heart. But I can’t ignore the sweet scent of lavender that clings to her skin and the fact that just being near her again after all these years has my cock twitching and my control waning. “Hate’s a hell of a lot safer than love.”

“Stay away from me, Blaze,” she says, her voice shaking. Then she turns on her heel and storms out of the store. The few customers in the place turn curious eyes in my direction, eyes that burn with accusation.

“. . . wonder what kind of trouble he’ll cause now . . .”

This time, I don’t blink an eye at gossip. Let them talk and wonder. They’ll never know the truth. Nobody will.

Outside, squealing tires shatter the air as Savannah’s car peels away out of the parking spot and speeds down the street, like she can’t get away from me fast enough.

A frustrated sigh slips from my lips as I turn toward my truck, but just before I can grab the door handle, a blacked-out Mercedes EX pulls up and blocks me in. The passenger-side window slides down, and Jack Wilkerson’s smug-ass face appears.

“Welcome back, Blaze. Get in the car.”

Rage flares hot in my chest. I want to tell him to go fuck himself, to rot in hell.

“I’d like to make you an offer I know you won’t refuse.” His slimy-as-fuck voice slithers over my skin like a poisonous snake.

Squaring my shoulders, I yank open the door and drop into the seat.

“Been a long time,” Jack says. “How’s everything going? Your family must be happy to have you back home.”

I whip my head toward him. “Save your bullshit. We both know this ain’t a social call. You brought me back here. Why don’t you tell me what you want, Wilkerson?”

Jack pulls over to the curb half a block up from the general store. He puts the car in park, his lips quirking into a nasty smile. “Is that any way to greet your business partner?”

“Screw you. I was never your business partner.”

“True. You weren’t. More like my bitch, if memory serves. But that’s the past, and I have an opportunity for you now that you’re back to work off your father’s new debt.” Jack shakes his head. “He just can’t seem to stop himself from digging you into bigger and bigger holes.”

He pauses and waves a hand in the direction of the general store. “Saw your little reunion with the Carlson girl. Too bad about her aunt. She was a sweet woman. Stupid as hell for not selling Red Rock Ranch when I made her an offer to buy her out.”

“Some things have too much meaning to be sold,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

“That’s what I’ve heard. Hey, how is Savannah doing, by the way?” He pauses, his lips lifting into a smirk that has my bones chilling. “You still got a hard-on for her the way you did years ago? You do remember what happens to people you care about when you decide to go off the rails, right, Blaze?”

More fucking threats. My fists tingle with the urge to punch a hole through his throat. “Do not go anywhere near her.”

“Don’t give me a reason to.” Jack steeples his fingers. “It really was too bad, you being dishonorably discharged from the military. But just because you got caught doesn’t mean you’re off the hook with me.”

“I did what you wanted. All the jobs. We had an agreement.”

“That’s right. We did. But there’s more to do. And you know what’s at stake if you choose to walk away from our arrangement.” He shakes his head. “It’d be a shame to expose everything you’ve done. But who knows what I’ll do if you don’t lend me a hand here?”

My mind trips back to the night after her parents’ funeral, when a car with no headlights sideswiped Savannah and ran her off the road. She was inches away from slamming into a tree, and given the speed, she’d have likely been killed.