Page 6 of Branded Betrayal

I wrap my fingers tight around the paint-chipped column, narrowing my eyes at the darkened windshield. I can’t see his face, but I feel his caramel-colored eyes on me. I feel them everywhere.

What is he even doing here? As far as I know, he’s supposed to be overseas serving in the military. That was the last update I’d heard from Aunt Marg years ago. And there’s definitely no love lost between him and Nash, so he wouldn’t just pop by for a visit.

My breath hitches as he adjusts his hat, fire racing through my veins, my knees buckling like I’m that silly, dickmatized eighteen-year-old again.

And then I remember the way he looked at me after my parents’ funeral. How cold and vacant his eyes were, how guarded and hard. And those caustic words he spoke . . .

“This whole thing between us was a mistake, Savannah. It’s done. We’re done.”

Rage burns hot in my chest, my skin prickling under the weight of his stare. And I hate that my body never got on the same page as my head and heart as far as Blaze was concerned.

My dark and dirty secret is back in Whiskey Creek to haunt me.

The engine of the truck roars to life, and he slowly backs out of the drive. My heart thrashes as he pulls onto the main road. I watch the back of his truck disappear, then I slump against the railing, surrounded by the ruins of what was supposed to be my perfect life, my body remembering every second of what it felt like to be his.

A shuddering breath escapes my lips.

And here I was, thinking things couldn’t possibly get any worse.

Chapter Two

Blaze

Savannah Carlson still owns me, even after all these years. She’s in my blood, in my bones, in my soul. Nash warned me to stay away a long time ago, but I just couldn’t.

Still can’t.

I lean back against my truck, arms folded over my chest, hat tilted low. The trees surrounding the perimeter of the cemetery give me cover, keeping me out of sight. Part of me wants to go to her, but if Nash saw me, he’d slit my throat.

Chewing on a blade of grass, I stare at Savannah’s dress. It’s black and tight and hugs those curves my hands remember too well. Her dark-blond hair hangs in a low ponytail that reaches halfway down her back, long enough for me to wrap my fist around and tug.

Something she used to love.

Her body is stiff, but every few minutes, her shoulders shake. And her asshole brother doesn’t even acknowledge it. He just stands next to her, staring at the casket, his jaw tight.

Anger swells in my chest. Still blaming me for his fucking failures, no doubt. Not that he ever made an effort to dig himself out of his hole. Nash was perfectly happy with me doing all the heavy lifting while he came in to help on a few jobs. I knew he was strapped for cash, so I pulled him in. It was easy money for him.

I made the hard choices and took all the risk. Nash just rode on my coattails, thinking everything would be handed to him.

Until that night when it all ended.

I lift my hat and sweep a hand through my hair.

The fact is, I still betrayed him. And for that, I don’t deserve his forgiveness.

I grit my teeth and dig the heel of my boot into the ground.

Being here at the funeral is wrong. I didn’t just break Savannah’s heart years ago by ending our affair. I’m a big part of the reason why her parents and her uncle are dead. My actions made Aunt Marg a widow. And after the destruction I helped cause, I walked away without a look back.

I made myself believe it was for everyone’s good, that me sticking around here would only cause more people pain and suffering. Maybe something worse, something deadly.

A deep sigh heaves my chest. Marg was a good woman. Kind, loving. She always saw the good in me too. More than almost anyone else.

Except Savvie. It’s one of the things about her that drew me close and held on tight. She didn’t listen to the stories or gossip nosy townspeople loved to spew about me, and Christ knows, there was enough to taint her view. Most of it was true too.

But she thought I was special. Me. What a fucking joke. To her I was so special that she had been willing to give up her dreams of college, a glitzy career, and a big-city life.

Then I let her down after her parents’ funeral. Hard. Told her we’d made a mistake.