“Watch out!” I shout in warning when Pat chases after her.
Regan jackknifes quickly but not quickly enough to catch Pat in the act. He pecks at some seed in front of him, acting like he isn’t on a murderous rampage. He’s good. Even I’m suspicious of his motive, and I interrogate criminals for a living.
After a vicious snarl stern enough to scare a tiger into becoming vegan, Regan returns to her mission. She makes it into the hen house without a single incident, proving Pat’s issues are male-oriented.
When I say that to Regan, she laughs. “So what are you saying? Only women can gather eggs?”
“Yup,” I reply without pause. “It makes perfect sense in both the animal kingdom and real life. Two alphas should never cross paths, much less be in the same realm—unless one is planning to take out the other.”
My tongue thickens when Regan glares at me. If given a choice, I’d rather have her see me as a coward than be subjected to the look she’s giving me now. She seems as if she wants to gut me just like her father does.
“What did I say?” My sentence comes out in a hurry from shadowing her thunderous steps to her mother’s Jeep.
I barely make it into the passenger seat before she floors the gas, sending droplets of mud spraying over both of us. Every puddle she dangerously careened for earlier today was done with laughter and jubilation, but this feels dirty—and not in a good way.
“Rae. . .” I grip the roll bar when she takes the hairpin corner at the bottom of the meadow at a speed too fast to be deemed safe. “Slow the fuck down. You’re going to get us killed.”
She lowers her speed—somewhat. It is enough to quell my anxiety, but not enough to loosen the tension clutching my throat. I don’t know what I said that’s got her so worked up, but I do know one thing: we need seatbelts—both of us.
After tugging on my belt, I lean across Regan’s thrusting chest to secure her clip into a latch that’s so sparkly I doubt it’s ever been used. The clench of Regan’s jaw reveals she is frustrated by my distrust, but her annoyance isn’t enough to overshadow whatever the fuck I did wrong this time.
We drive for several minutes before Regan finally reveals the reason behind her anger. “I’m an alpha. You know that, right?”
I’d laugh if I wasn’t in fear of my life. I’m not scared of her excessive speed. It is the glare she is giving me causing my heart palpitations.
Realizing ignorance won’t get me anywhere fast with a woman as stubborn as Regan, I say, “The term ‘alpha’ is only used when referring to the male of the species. I sure as hell know you’re not one of them.”
She forcefully yanks on the steering wheel, forcing my head and the roll bar to become friendly. “An alpha is the dominant one of the group. That’s me. I’m the alpha.”
She says her last word with so much power, I’m certain her parents heard her—if not half the state. I wonder if that’s why she’s driving us away from her family home? She doesn’t want any witnesses to my murder.
“You took what I said out of context. Your spitfire attitude and take-no-shit personality are two of the things I love most about you, so if you think I’m going to fight you for the position of top dog, Rae, you’re wrong. You’re already so far above me, I’m afraid I’ll never reach you.”
Regan’s foot slips off the gas pedal as her eyes connect to mine. It takes me replaying what I said four times before the reason behind her dilated eyes and gaped jaw smacks into me. I just told her I loved her. It was in a roundabout way, but I still said it.
I attempt to fire off a half-assed comment about loving her feistiness as much as I love tacos, but Regan beats me to the task of talking. Her question isn’t laced with the wit I intended to use. It’s fueled by hope. “Did I take that out of context as well?”
I should say yes. I should act oblivious to what she is asking, but with my ability to lie to her dwindling with every second we spend together, I shake my head instead. I ought to be ashamed of how profoundly she’s crawled under my skin in such a short period of time, but I’m not. I’ve been longing for change for years. She gives me the change I’ve been seeking without any worry entering the equation. I want this—I want her.
Unfortunately, Regan misses my wordless reply. She’s too busy striving to avoid a herd of cattle to hear my unverbalized declaration of love.
I’d give anything to tell her how I truly feel. Even more so when we veer off the muddy track, and the Jeep’s tires lift off the ground.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Please. Oh, God, please don’t do this to me again.”
Even barely audible through the sob she’s struggling to contain, I recognize the voice of the woman praying on repeat. It is Regan. She sounds distraught and panicked—like her worst nightmare is being played out—again?
When she presses her cold fingers to my neck to check for a pulse, a mangled groan rolls up my chest. Her hands are freezing—as cold as death itself. Although my unexpected response to her touch scares the living daylights out of her, the relieved breath it comes with is strong enough to force my eyelids open.
It takes me several long, tedious seconds to recall our location. It isn’t because I’m disoriented. I’m striving to work out why the grass is blue and the sky is green. We’re upside down, still trapped in the wreckage. . . and I can smell gasoline.
Fuck.
I crash to the ground with a thud when I unlatch my seatbelt. Although my shoulder is unappreciative of its hard contact with the roll bar that saved our lives, registering pain is the last thing on my mind. Regan’s safety is my absolute priority. Pain, anger, and any other stupid neurosis can wait.
“Careful,” I beg when Regan’s hand follows the trek mine just took. “I’ll catch you, but go slow.”
