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“Where are we going?” she asked, trepidation in her voice.
“A place where I can finally get some peace.” I thought about my father, a man who’d done everything in the last years of his life to avoid his true heritage. He’d been so proud when I was a boy, relishing the Cheyenne ways as taught by his father and grandfather. Then everything had changed. When I was very young, he’d often recite something that had been taught to him from an early age. On this night, the words flowed freely in my mind.
“Fear not what life can bring you. Rejoice in the celebration of both triumph and heartache for both will shape you. However, only one will alter the course of your journey.”
CHAPTER12
Aspen
Could I handle the dangerous man any longer?
I’d been asking myself the same question for two days. After tonight, I wasn’t certain I’d ever find an answer. But every time I was with him, I felt like I was on cloud nine.
Even though I’d almost died.
Whatever was going on was deeply entrenched in a good portion of the community. I’d seen firsthand the way the sheriff had pushed Montgomery’s concerns aside. I only hoped that Montgomery knew what he was doing.
Heroic.
I had no doubt that Montgomery wasn’t used to being called heroic. I also doubted that he’d want me to suggest that’s what he’d become. Seeing him racing into the fire had been utterly terrifying. Helping the family escape had been an adrenaline rush. Then seeing him going up against the local sheriff had been eye opening, especially given what the man supposedly in authority had said to him. The asshole was lucky I hadn’t lashed out more than I had.
I’d seen the look in the sheriff’s eyes. Hatred. What the hell was the confrontation all about? The implications he’d spouted off weren’t something to be taken lightly. Was there a conspiracy to take away land from various owners? I was in way over my head, but the man holding my hand needed to come clean about what was really going on. I would insist on it.
A cold wave skittered down my spine as I continued to think about the fire, the ache in my throat a reminder of how close we’d come to losing our lives. I was still holding the flashlight, one hand tightly fisted around it. I could still feel the explosive heat, the sight of the flames rushing toward us one of the most terrifying things I’d ever been through. My throat was parched, my mind still foggy from what had occurred.
I shuddered as Montgomery took off in the Ferrari, moving quickly through the number of vehicles that had driven into the estate. He said nothing as he drove toward his house, keeping the engine idling when he parked near the front walkway. We weren’t staying here. That was for certain.
“Just stay in the car,” he instructed, not bothering to look in my direction at first.
There were no right words at this moment, but I wanted to be with him. Every part of me needed to have his arms wrapped around me and that made zero sense to me. He was still the arrogant bastard I’d met only a few days before. He was still the dark man who’d lost all sense of himself.
But there was more. He was changing, allowing me into his world. Or maybe I was just dreaming.
When he turned his head slowly, a single moan popped from my mouth.
“Everything will be okay.” He said the words with no emotion before jumping out of his vehicle.
I watched as he walked away, remaining chilled from the entire experience. Everything about him was purposeful, but he was different tonight, the experience dragging him back to the wretched event two years before.
When he finally reappeared, he had several items in his hands, moving toward the trunk before I could make out what they were. After dropping them inside, he returned, saying nothing as he handed me a bottle of water. Then he threw the gear into reverse, turning sharply until he was able to head down the driveway, swinging onto the road going through the estate.
He was focused as well as furious, remaining quiet as he drove out onto the main road. As soon as he’d made the turn, he accelerated, pressing the pedal to the floor, the car fishtailing back and forth. A slice of fear rumbled into me as he rounded several curves, the tires squealing from the pressure he was putting on them.
“Slow down.” I realized I was barely whispering. When he didn’t respond, I leaned forward. “Montgomery. Slow down! Are you trying to kill us?”
“I assure you that I know how to navigate the area.” His answer was succinct, laced with the same anger I’d heard before.
I darted another look toward the road, the scenery flashing by so quickly that everything became a blur. “I don’t like this. Please.”
Hissing, he shifted down the gear lower, allowing the car to slow down naturally. “You don’t trust me.”
“It’s not a matter of trust. I can see how angry you are.”
“You’re right I’m angry. The man needs to pay for what he’s done.”
“What man?”
He laughed, shifting a quick glance in my direction. “Prescott Westfield.”
