Page 10 of Saddled in Secrets (Cloverleaf Meadows #2)

K nots tighten in my stomach as I tiptoe across the yard.

I stick to the shadows, avoiding spots that will trigger the motion detectors.

Just a few more feet until I reach my car.

After that, I can go wherever I want and stay gone until my moral compass drags me home.

There isn’t much of a plan beyond getting past these walls caging me in.

“I can do this.” The whispered encouragement is purely for me and the nerves trying to lock my legs. “Stay sleuthy, Bee.”

Tonight unfolded into opportunity. Dad has bingo, which keeps him occupied until nine o’clock.

Brody decided to take his wife out for dinner.

Colton was the last to leave, trailing after my brother and Paisley as if I went along with them.

My phone that’s secretly tucked into her purse strongly suggests that’s the case.

Following a false scent serves him right.

I had my suspicions about him tracking and that confirmed it.

The window for escape is slim. I’m moments away from finally running wild.

My muscles flex in preparation and I dash to the large boulder that hides me from the last sensor.

It will really suck if my brother or Colton getalerted to me creeping across the lawn.

Black leggings and a hooded pullover only hide me to a certain extent.

The cool metal of my sleek Audi meets my back once I cover the remaining distance.

My door opens with a whoosh. A smile curls my lips when the overhead lights stay off.

That was smart thinking, but I don’t have much time to gloat.

I slip onto the leather seat like a stain.

My index finger shakes as I push the ignition button.

The quiet purr from the engine resembles a stampede trampling on the silence.

Terror freezes me for several seconds. My wide eyes scan from left to right, triple-checking that the coast is clear. Paranoia has its claws in me, but there’s no sign of anyone. Sweat slicks my palms when I grip the wheel and pull forward onto the driveway.

I use my brother’s code at the gate just for shits. It’s the same reason I made a fake body lump under my covers before fleeing the scene. Colton will curse me for that extra detail. Too bad I won’t be there to see it.

The road to freedom appears in front of me like a miracle. Tingles race up my spine as I stare straight ahead. There’s nothing except darkness, but it’s never looked more inviting. My foot meets the accelerator and I’m gone.

“Holy shit,” I breathe. “I did it. I actually freaking did it!”

Thunder crashes in my pulse and can probably be heard from a mile away.

Nobody is here to listen. The street is blissfully empty.

My high beams blaze across familiar landscape that will lead me to nowhere in particular.

Paradise. Flutters replace the tightness in my gut and I press harder on the gas.

“See ya, Colton.” My laughter is manic as I celebrate this small victory. “Good luck explaining my disappearance to the boss.”

The thrill of pulling this off shimmies my hips.

That’s when I realize what’s missing. I created a playlist full of women power anthems just for this occasion.

“Girl on Fire” by Alicia Keys is the first song to blast through the speakers.

Positive energy radiates from the tempo.

I start singing like I’m on stage, putting on the performance of a lifetime.

As I’m belting out the lyrics, stress flakes off my shoulders like burnt skin.

I’m about to really let loose on the chorus when movement in the backseat strangles my vocal cords. A shadowy figure appears in the rearview mirror, noticeably sitting upright. My scream hits an octave that might shatter the windows. The intruder doesn’t appear fazed by my shrieking.

“Holy shit!”

This time, the expletive is paired with a sharp swerve. The tires squeal as I struggle to regain control. A muscular, tattooed arm shoots forward to stabilize the wheel.

I recognize the ink first. His woodsy scent is a close second. Somehow, the telltale cologne didn’t register while I was focused on making a run for it. The weight of a shackle returns to my ankle as if it never left. What a damn tease.

My palm blindly smacks at the volume button in an attempt to hear myself think.

The quiet does little to comfort me. Fringes of fear still shadow the edges of my vision.

I try to slow my breathing and soothe this frantic response.

It fails, much like this attempt at freedom.

So much for leaving my troubles behind. The road in front of me now leads to a dead end.

Heat pricks at my eyes, but I choke down the threat of tears. I won’t cry. Not in front of him.

“Are you fucking serious, Colton?” I grit out between clenched teeth.

“Princess.” The nickname is a scold. “Did you really think it would be that easy?”

His tone is calm as he casually props an elbow on the center console. Meanwhile, I’m fighting to keep my heart from beating out of my chest. I focus on the bold yellow lines that disappear into pitch black.

“Why are you lurking in my backseat?”

He climbs into the front with the grace of a ballerina rather than a six-foot-five buzzkill built like a linebacker. His stare burns into my profile. “Dramatic impact?”

I glare straight ahead. “Very funny.”

“It fit the vibe. You were sneaking across the lawn like the star in an action movie.”

The fact he’s making fun of me after cancelling my plans is salt in a very raw wound. I need to pull over. Immediately.

A darkened building appears on the left. After a quick scan of our location on Chestnut Avenue, I realize it’s the feed store. At this hour, the parking lot will be blissfully empty and ideal for ditching unwanted cargo. I crank the wheel hard. The sharp turn sends Colton crashing into the window.

Thick fingers prod at a spot on his forehead. That’s probably going to bruise. “The fuck?”

“Whoops.” I lift a shoulder. “This situation has me edgy.”

He glances at Cloverleaf Cooperative, which is obviously closed. “What are you doing?”

“Well, I almost had a panic attack thanks to you.” My Audi screeches to a halt near the plant nursery. “And now, I’m dropping you off. Get out.”

“After you, Princess.”

I shoo him like a nosy stud colt crowding my space. “Go away.”

“No.”

Something cracks inside me. This shouldn’t be a battle. I shift into park and turn to face him. Our gazes lock. A spark travels between us and I shiver.

“Please, Colton. Let me do this.”

He winces, but the crack in his stony mask is gone in an instant. “I’ll go with you.”

“That defeats the purpose,” I say dejectedly. “How did you know?”

“I saw Brody and Paisley leave. You weren’t with them, regardless of what your phone’s tracking suggested.”

Damn this man and his bombproof work ethic.

“Why didn’t you just wait by my car and catch me before I got in?”

“That would’ve ruined the surprise.”

“I’m so glad my misery is amusing. You gave me false hope.”

“You gave that to yourself. Nice pipes by the way.”

My cheeks burn at the reminder of what he witnessed. “I hate you so much.”

“Doubt it.”

“Why do you insist on torturing me?”

He snorts. “You don’t know what torture is.”

“It’s relative,” I deadpan. “For me, it’s when you break into my car and ruin my attempt at solitude. Again.”

His shrug gives zero fucks. “You can’t escape me. When are you gonna learn?”

“Probably when you start to listen. I want to be alone.”

“Too bad.”

My chest rises and falls as I resist the impulse to throttle him. That probably wouldn’t end well for me. Instead, our stubborn streaks glare at each other. It doesn’t take long for me to admit a silent standoff is another fight I won’t win.

“I’m still really mad at you, Colton. This stalker behavior isn’t helping. Please just go.”

“Not happening, Princess.”

“Why?”

“My father can’t be trusted. I’m worried he’s going to come after you again. You need protection.”

“I can take care of myself.”

Colton’s flat look begs to differ. “He isn’t a nice man. There’s no telling what he’s planning next.”

That gives me pause. “You really think he’ll come after me?”

“If he’s that desperate to get me back.” He flexes his hands, curling his fingers into tight fists.

That’s when I notice the mottled patches and scrapes. “What happened to your knuckles?”

“Punched my cousin in the face.”

“Your cousin?” I sputter.

“He deserved it.”

I study him and his nonchalant tone for a moment. There’s so much I don’t know about him, but I’m not diving into that bottomless pit. He’s a mystery and can stay that way.

“So,” I sigh. “You’re going to follow me around until your father is no longer a threat?”

“Yes.”

“And Brody approved this?”

“Obviously,” he drawls.

“Do I get a say?”

“No.”

I don’t know why I bothered to ask. My safety is more important than free will according to the men in my life. A familiar sense of hopelessness settles on my shoulders. But this surrender isn’t permanent. I just need to regroup and think of a plan that will satisfy the brutes.

“How long will this confinement last?”

“Not sure. He has cancer. It’s gonna kill him sooner or later.”

A painful ache spreads through my chest. “Oh, how awful. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“I’m not.” But there’s a gruff edge to his voice. “Between the cigarettes and drugs, it was only a matter of time.”

“Ohhh-kayyy.” Just one more piece to the incomplete puzzle that is Colton Keller.

“Don’t feel bad for him. He doesn’t deserve your kindness.”

“If you say so,” I mumble.

“I do.”

“But can’t you just…” I stall and twirl my wrist. “Strike a deal with him or something? You know… before he goes.”

Colton grunts. “He’s not much for negotiating.”

“Must run in the family.”

His sharp glare cuts into me. The sneer twisting his features is pure menace. “I’m nothing like him.”

“Whoa!” I hold up my hands in surrender. “Didn’t mean to offend you.”

Untamed fury crackles in the air. I can practically taste the animosity rolling off him. This is the first time he’s revealed his scary side to me. It’s a far cry from the subtle cues of annoyance I’m used to pulling from him. I don’t like it. Not one bit.

As if hearing my concern, the tension bleeds from his stiff posture. He slumps against the seat, scrubbing a palm over his face.

“Shit. Sorry,” he mumbles. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

My lashes flutter at the abrupt change in his personality. “Want to make it up to me?”

“I’m not letting you go off on your own.”

My groan is pitiful. “I’m so tired.”

“Let’s turn back and you can sleep this off.”

A fierce scowl berates him. “Quit treating me like a child made of glass. I’m twenty-three, not thirteen.”

“Thank fate for that,” he mumbles.

That comment doesn’t make sense and I choose to ignore it. “I don’t want to go home.”

“Afraid to sleep next to that pile of pillows impersonating you?”

My mind whirls. “How did you see that and still make it to my car before me?”

“I’m very good.”

“Unfortunately.” I shift into drive, admitting defeat. “Any requests?”

“I liked the song you were singing. Turn it back on.”

The urge to smack his smug tone clenches my hands on the wheel. “I meant about where we’re going.”

“You pick. I’m just along for the ride.”

“Paddock it is,” I chirp.

His jaw tightens. “Great.”

A slow grin spreads across my lips. That reaction is what I prefer to drag out of him. Small, but telling.

“Gonna be a long night, Cowboy. Buckle up.”