Page 60 of The Billionaire's Runaway Bride

“The hell I won’t!” He brushes off his shirt where I wrinkled the fabric. “She owes me. Her parents owe me. I’ll get her right back where she belongs, and she’ll never pull a public stunt like this again.”

“She doesn’t owe you shit.”

He sneers. “And you don’t know shit. You think you can tell me to stay away from her?” Stepping closer, he shouts so violently, his spittle flies and splatters on my face. “I will do whatever it takes. I will do whatever is necessary to make sure you never get your hands on her again.”

His finger doesn’t complete its jab at my chest when he said you. I grab it and wrench his hand to the side. He cries out and pushes at me.

“What’s going on?”

I barely glance up long enough to see a cop approaching from behind Jeremy. Another uniformed officer is talking to Ken and Earl at the bench.

“Don’t even think about trying to stop me,” Jeremy threatens, oblivious or uncaring about the cops coming.

I react before I can think it through. Slamming both of my hands to his chest, I shove. I send Jeremy falling back on his ass.

“Settle down,” the cop says as he walks quicker.

I lift my hands and step back, showing that I mean no harm. To him. To the general public. I’m not a menace on the sidewalk to anyone except this one man. I won’t wait to retaliate if he spews one more venomous lie about the woman who’s stealing my heart.

“You settle—” Jeremy looks back, seeing that it’s a cop he’s going to tell off. “Oh.”

“Break it up,” the cop says as Jeremy scrambles to his feet. He’s busy dusting himself off and scowling at me.

“Yeah. Tell him that,” he retorts as he turns to leave for his car.

The cop raises his brows at me. Behind him, I see Ken and Earl chatting. Both of them turn to watch Jeremy get in his car, no doubt memorizing his license plate number.

“I’m going. I’m going.” I keep my hands up and speak as calmly as I can. Walking backward, I head toward Marian’s truck and get in.

Dammit. That wasn’t enough. I really wish I could’ve pounded the message in loud and clear. That he should think twice about ever coming close to Lauren again, but I’ve dealt with headstrong and cocky idiots like him before. He won’t give up, and that’s all the more reason for me to hurry back to the bed-and-breakfast before he might consider a repeat visit or drive-by.

I felt like a knight protecting her when I sped down Meadow Lane to warn Jeremy off. Now that I confronted him and suspect he’s only going to try harder the next time, I zoom back up the cracked and pot-holed road even faster.

“If that cop hadn’t shown up…” I mutter and shake my head, aggravated that I was prevented from showing Jeremy how much I meant what I said.

Maybe it was for the best that he did. If I was caught in a scuffle or arrested, I wouldn’t be here to keep Lauren safe from Jeremy. I intend to make good on my promise. I’ll give her whatever she wants and anything she needs. If she is hoping I’ll be her hero from this fate, I will step up and do it.

When I pull in and park at the B&B, I sigh in relief at the sight of the peaceful mountainside. It’s welcoming, not only because of its remote setting but also because I know Lauren will be here. She’ll be inside, waiting for my return. After the intimacy and sweet moments we shared last night and this morning, she can’t possibly revert into that antagonistic attitude of insisting on distance between us.

I enter the large house, looking around for her. I saw her rush into her cottage earlier, but Marian must have gone to speak with her by now. I don’t find either woman in the kitchen though, where I figured they might have ended up, chatting over tea as Lauren shares her feelings and talks about her fears.

Where is she?

I turn, almost running into Marian. With how quickly she was walking, I assume she was coming toward me.

“I saw you pull up.” The frown on her face alarms me. “Go. She’s at the cottage. She’s packing to leave. She won’t listen to a single thing I say!”

I run, barging through the back door and rushing for the cottage. I knock, more like banging on the door.

“Lauren? Please, it’s me, Caleb. Let me in.”

The door’s lock clicks open, and I experience a flash of pain that she had to lock it. Here, out in the remote reaches outside of town, she was that fearful and defensive.

I see the backpack on her bed. She hasn’t zipped it yet, but I spot the hand-me-down clothes she’s been using. This beautiful woman showed up with nothing, and she’s trying to take off with the little she’s been granted.

“You’re going to run again.” I should have asked it, to demand to hear her confess it. Instead, I spit it out like the accusation it is.

“I can’t stay, Caleb.”

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