Page 17 of Brutal Heir

Once we reach the truck, I open the door and set her behind the wheel. She collapses against the backrest, pale lips trembling. “You’re okay now,” I assure her. “If you’re gonna throw up, aim for the floorboard. Don’t open the door.”

She shuts her eyes. “I won’t.”

“Good girl,” I say before turning my attention back to the equipment sitting a few yards away. It matches what’s on the inventory, plus the bulldozer we had missing. I could easily call it a day, but that’s not how I work. “Let me go check the dozer, then we’re outta here.”

I close the door, leaving her on her own while I set out to confirm the serial number is the one on the list. I’m going to tell Addler to have them paint a number on the chassis big enough to see from a distance. They can use that orange spray paint they put all over the ground.

This situation could have turned deadly if one of the crew had been out here on their own. They can’t carry guns and may not have seen the danger in time. Coming face -to-face with a six-foot rattlesnake is bad enough. Having it dig its fangs into your leg without being able to do much to it is something else.

Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I still see it happen.

* * *

Sage

“Wait here,” he commands, voice laced with enough arrogance to make my skin prickle. “I’ll go check it out.”

Worse, he thinks it’s a given that I’m going to obey. Does he think I’m incapable of handling myself? I clench my fists and brace myself to tell him off, but, before I can say a word, he’s shut the door and is striding off with an air of confidence that borders on conceit. The nerve of this guy!

I grit my teeth and stare after him, a knot forming in my stomach. I can’t just wait here like a useless lump. With a determined shake of my head, I grab the door handle and push it open, not willing to have him do everything for me.

“No way,” I announce. “I’mnotgoing to sit here and wait for you.”

“Stay in the truck, Sage,” he warns, turning to face me.

I won’t be told what to do, especially by him. I’m not some damsel in distress who needs rescuing. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much.

“I can handle it,” I assert in a firm voice. I climb out and slam the door shut behind me, determined to prove to him that I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. I move forward, intending to catch up with him, but when he reaches the end of the truck, a bone-chilling sound stops me in my tracks.

A rattle. The sound of a snake in the vicinity. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. In this part of the country, they grow big and mean. And, with my luck, I got one of the worst ones.

Panic seizes me, freezing me where I stand. What do I do? I can’t think straight. This is like a scene from a horror movie. The giant snake’s coming up from behind me, its jaw open wide enough to swallow me whole. Oh God. I’m going to fall over. It’s going to catch up. I suck in a breath, ready to scream.

“Quiet.” The strength in his voice cuts through my terror, snapping me out of my stupor. He scans the ground around us searching for the snake.

“Behind me.”

The snake must be big enough that he can spot it from where he’s standing. His poker face is nerve-wracking. Is it bad? Stupid question. Yes, it has to be. I can’t see it, but I can feel it. It’s too close. I’m not even covered by jeans, and there’s a snake behind me. I should be asking myself how close it is, how bad it is.

“Give me your hand.”

I hear the words in his unmistakable voice, but I’m practically blind. Tunnel vision leaves his face in focus, but I can’t see much else around me. I thrust a hand out, cringing as I anticipate fangs digging into me from behind.

There’s pressure around my forearm, and I’m virtually lifted off my feet. With a mumbled prayer, I push off with the tips of my toes, trying to get out of reach of danger. His powerful arm pulls me toward him, and I land against his left side with a solid thud. It’s like hitting a concrete barrier, only there’s a little give.

The sound of his gun going off reverberates in my head. I turn away, setting my left ear against his shoulder and burying my nose in his shirt. The scent of him fills my nostrils. It’s beyond detergent or fabric softener. It’s him. And I’ll forever associate the scent with this moment.

The gun goes off again. I flinch, tightening my hold on him like he’s the anchor I need to keep me steady.

“Let’s get you in the truck.”

Oh God. He wants me to move. I swallow hard. What if there’s another one close by? I try my best, but somehow I can’tget my body to move.

“Come on. We’re going to the driver’s side.”

He takes a step back, and I have no choice but to let him go. I’m not going to be clinging to him as he tries to move away. I gather what’s left of my dignity and concentrate on trying to put one foot in front of the other.

Ezequiel bends down and, in a flash, he puts his shoulder to my midriff. A second later, my feet leave the ground, then the world turns upside down. This time I do let out a scream.

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