Page 9 of Saddled in Secrets (Cloverleaf Meadows #2)

I creep along the side of the building, avoiding the cameras docked overhead. Shadows conceal me as I approach a past I never planned to revisit. I’d prefer this stain on society disappeared entirely. Voices from inside the warehouse disturb the silence and prove they’re still going strong.

Gravel crunches beneath my boots like broken memories.

As predicted, Walker is guarding the main entrance alone.

It’s almost like a decade hasn’t passed.

My cousin got assigned that post when he turned eighteen and finally earned some responsibility.

His lack of ambition must’ve kept him from climbing higher in the ranks.

I find myself wondering if his sister is nearby, but dismiss the thought immediately. Frankie was a scrawny teen when I left. I’d hate to see what this life turned her into.

Walker is standing under the single spotlight with his back to me. Plumes of cigarette smoke curl above him and stretch toward me in a toxic cloud. His addiction is more important than paying attention to the threat closing in behind him.

Old habits of my own slip on like well-worn jeans. My knife is pressed against Walker’s throat before he can take another drag. “Don’t move.”

This is how my father trained me to be. Ruthless. Cold. Effective.

My cousin’s Adam’s apple bobs with a gulp. “Welcome home, Colt.”

“Not staying long. Just need to re-establish the boundaries.”

Walker snorts and makes sure I can see his eyes roll. “Still a traitor then?”

“Yup.” But only to those who betrayed me first.

“Such bullshit,” he spits. “We’re family, Colt. Blood bonds us. Gonna shred me to pieces over some rich bitch?”

I dig the steel into his skin until a trickle of blood drips over my knuckles. “Don’t talk about her.”

Walker doesn’t listen, which hasn’t changed either. “She’s got you all wrapped up, huh? Just like the boss said. He’s got you pegged.”

“Get him out here.” My voice is deadly calm.

“How do you expect me to do that while you’re holding a blade to my neck?”

“Not my problem. Just make it happen.”

He tosses his cigarette before digging out his phone.

The screen is bright in the darkness, even with the spotlight over us.

I squint while he types. His message provides minimal context, just stating someone is out front to see him.

Probably did me a favor not mentioning my name. It won’t grant him leniency.

But he doesn’t know that.

My weapon lifts off Walker’s throat in a false surrender.

He doesn’t get the chance to move. After raising a bent arm, I jab my elbow between his shoulder blades.

He spins toward me, allowing my cocked fist to clock him twice in the jaw hard enough to send him reeling.

I stretch out the burn in my knuckles. Damn, that feels good.

Walker stumbles to the side and clutches the injury. “What the fuck?”

“Told you not to talk about her.”

“Does she—?”

That’s all he gets out before I’m lunging forward.

My knee rams into his gut while I get another punch to his face.

He sputters, spitting out blood as his head snaps back.

The sight feeds my instincts that I usually keep on a tight leash.

Power surges through my veins and the demand for violence roars.

I stalk him like easy prey, ready to strike again.

“Colton.”

The sharp tone cracks through the ferocity like thunder. I halt in my tracks even though I quit obeying that voice’s orders a decade ago. But this is his turf and I’m outnumbered.

My boots grind into the rocks—envisioning the much more satisfying crunch of bone fracturing beyond repair—as I turn to the man in charge. James Keller is an imposing force, but I feel nothing when our eyes meet. Emptiness is my comfort zone when it comes to this shitty excuse for a parent.

I’ve seen him around town since I left the crew. This is the closest I’ve been. He’s older—deep into his sixties—and it shows. More weathered than an abandoned shack left to rot. Time hasn’t been kind to him, but he still oozes dominance.

Shame threatens to surface. I try to push it back down, but the contempt swallows me.

The fact that I allowed him to control me for all those years shrivels my pride.

Dark memories haunt the edges of my vision, beckoning me to get lost in the pain.

But then I absently snap the elastic on my wrist. The slight sting settles me.

Chocolate brown hair and forest-green eyes replace the void. Her smile is radiant, cracking through the murky depths. Bianca is my tether—the stars in the night when I’m lost. The reminder almost brings me to my knees. I’d crawl over broken glass for that woman.

And skewer my father if he ever puts her in harm’s way again. He glares when I refuse to cower. His authority doesn’t rule over me. Not anymore.

Rough hacking interrupts our hostile reunion. Walker is still recovering from my assault and not being quiet about it.

“Get yourself cleaned up.” My father dismisses him with a flick of his wrist.

I stay quiet, assessing him. His attention roves over me in return. Crickets serenade our standoff.

My dad clears his throat. “Well, you’re here faster than I predicted.”

“Rather get this over with.” I cross my arms and continue glaring him down, urging him to spew whatever bullshit spiel he planned.

“That girlfriend of yours is an effective pawn.”

Anger surges in my veins, flexing every muscle to pounce. “Stay away from her.”

His eyes gleam after I gave him the desired reaction. “I might dangle her in front of your nose until you listen.”

The insinuation almost makes me launch at him. “If you try to contact her again, we’ll bury you.”

“We?”

“You know who I’m friends with.”

“Friends,” he laughs but the sound is a taunt. “Don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re one of them, kid. You’ll never truly fit in. They’ll always see you as an outsider.”

I force myself to appear unaffected, but my blood is boiling inside.

“The roads we’ve traveled don’t mean shit.

When it comes to Bianca’s safety and well-being, we’re on even ground.

The entire Benson family will destroy you if she gets hurt.

That’s a war you won’t win. I’ll be at the front of the line to watch you fall. ”

“Damn,” he chuckles again. “Quite a speech. They’ve really turned you against me.”

“You did that on your own.” The damage he caused would cost a fortune to fix, and that’s just the psychological aspects.

“What’s it going to take for you to come home? Claim your rightful place at the top. That’s where you belong.” He beckons me forward. “Don’t settle for the scraps they’re tossing at you. All of this can be yours.”

My boots remain firmly planted on the other side of this imaginary line he’s drawn. “Not interested.”

“No? Does your precious treasure know about your past? Or is she under the illusion you were trained to fight in a prestigious academy?”

“Not sure what that has to do with anything.” I’m under no illusion that Bianca thinks of me beyond being a pain in her ass.

My father scoffs. “You’re a gutter rat like the rest of us, Colton. The sooner you remember that, the faster we can get back on track.”

There’s some truth to his words, but I don’t want to hear it.

Brody saved me. I ran from my father’s crew when I was twenty.

It wasn’t easy to leave, living on my own.

The last seven years have been a breeze in comparison to the first few thanks to him taking me in.

The trust and responsibility he’s handed over is worth far more than anything this crook is trying to swindle.

I’d love to punch the smug grin off his wrinkled face. He won’t let me walk out of here as easily if I do. It might be a battle already depending on his mood. Fine by me. Walker’s bruises were just a warning. I stretch my knuckles again. As if my father could forget what he created.

But this isn’t about swinging our dicks. It’s best to reserve the violence for if he contacts Bianca again.

My flat expression reflects boredom. “We done?”

“What do you think?”

That this was an enormous waste of my time and patience. “Was there a plan beyond pissing me off?”

He shrugs. “Just hoping to have a conversation, which is what I told Bianca. Be sure to pass along my gratitude.”

My vision narrows into a point where he’s the target. “If you’re smart, you’ll forget she exists. You don’t want Dennis and Brody as enemies.”

He waves off the barely retrained fury in my voice. “She served her purpose. I just needed to get your attention.”

“You got it.” But not for much longer. My skin is starting to itch. I need to get back to the manor.

His sigh almost sounds resigned, but that can’t be right. “The truth is that I’m sick.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“It’s cancer,” he clarifies. “Stage Four.”

That gives me pause, but little else. If he’s expecting sympathy, he should’ve thought twice about beating it out of me.

The disease will make him suffer a worse fate than any torture he dealt.

Maybe there’s a semblance of reckoning in that.

But I still feel nothing. He doesn’t deserve an ounce of pity.

When I don’t respond, he fills in the lull. “I don’t trust anyone else to run the business.”

It’s comical that he believes I’ll eagerly jump into his leadership position like I didn’t leave on purpose. This delightful meet and greet was meant to remind him of where we stand—on opposite sides of the fence. That’s how it will remain.

“You won’t see me again unless you force the issue, and then you won’t like the outcome.”

My father squints at the overhead light where bugs are swarming. “I’m dying anyway. How much worse could it be?”

I grunt. “Of all people, you should know the answer.”

His attempt at coaxing me back into the fold misfires like a shoddy pistol. My father must read the decision in my blank stare. He nods and steps back.

“I’ll be seeing you, son.”

“Not your son.”

Amusement brightens his gnarled features. “Disowning me officially?”

I turn away, but give him the answer as my parting gift. “Did that when I walked out the first time. Hammer this reminder into your thick skull. There won’t be a third one.”