Page 84 of Branded Betrayal

I breathe him in before my eyes float open. His lingering scent wraps around me like a cocoon, curling in the air, a spicy musk with a hint of leather and sandalwood. My lungs expand, pulling it in, letting it infuse my body and mind.

A smile plays at my lips as I reach for him. But all I find are cold sheets under my palm.

No warm body.

My eyes fly open. Is he seriously—?

I sit straight up in bed and scan the room. His clothes are gone.

He’s gone.

I fall back onto the pillows. I should have known. Things got too real, and he bolted. Again.

When the hell am I going to learn my lesson?

I throw the covers off myself and pull on some clothes. I roll my neck to relieve the crick, but it doesn’t do any good. It’s like a harsh reminder that as much as I want to eradicate Blaze Hartman from my heart, he’s burrowed in tight and deep like an Alabama tick.

Typical. I brush my teeth, cursing him as I spit and gurgle. Rubbing my fingertips over the spot on my neck where he sucked and nipped and left his mark, I shake my head.

Shame on me.

I walk downstairs, cracks of light slipping into the house through half-drawn windows. The floorboards creak as I step over them and pad toward the kitchen, my eyes as heavy as my heart.

After hitting the button on the coffee machine to start brewing, I turn on my laptop to review the latest draft of my business plan.

Soon, the rich and inviting aroma of fresh-brewed coffee fills the space. Notes of sweet caramel and molasses make my mouth water as I scan the text on my screen.

Screeching tires outside jolt me from my thoughts, a gasp catching in my throat when I whip around to look out the window.

“What the hell?” I yelp.

The south pasture is empty.

I run for the front door and tear out of the house, my feet barely touching the steps as I fly over them. My heart explodes against my chest, leg muscles tight and tense. In the distance, cattle scatter at the edge of the property line, some spread across the highway outside of the Red Rock gates.

Panic bubbles in my chest, my feet crushing gravel. My chest heaves, the noxious smells of smoke and burning rubber catching in my throat. I explode through the gate, my heart stuttering to a stop when I reach the jackknifed semi in the middle of the road. I cover my mouth with my hand to silence the scream knotted in my throat.

Miss Bea.

“Ma’am, I’m so sorry,” the driver says. “I was comin’ down the road when she wandered out in front of me. I tried to stop in time, but it was too late.”

Tears sting my eyes. I fall down next to Miss Bea. Her breaths are labored, large brown eyes brimming with pain. I look her over, and a pang assaults my chest.

Her leg is broken.

“No, no, no . . .” I murmur, stroking the side of her face. “Poor baby. I’m so sorry.” I swipe at the tears slipping down my cheeks. “I don’t understand how this happened.”

The driver points out some of the cattle wandering farther down the road. “She’s not the only one, ma’am. Do you have someone to help you out?”

I shake my head, a sob exploding from my lips. “No, it’s just me right now.” My hand trembles where I hold it against Miss Bea. She whimpers again when she tries to move.

“She’s hurt real bad,” the driver says. “You want me to call someone?”

“No,” I say, my voice quivering. “I’ll take care of it.”

I reach into my pocket for my phone and dial Nash’s number. The screen blurs from the tears pooling in my eyes. He answers on the first ring.

“Savvie, what’s up?”