Page 34 of Brutal Heir

“Sage.” His voice comes through the door.

“Just a minute.” I put the brush down. Did I happen to wake up when he left? No, the sheets were cool.

“Now.”

My eyes widen at the hard edge of his voice. “Okay.” I reach out and unlock the door, the sound of the bolt amplified in the silence. Taking a deep breath I open the door to join him in the bedroom. Only he’s at the door, blocking my way. He’s turned the lamp on so I can see the anger etched on his face. It startles me enough to bring me wide awake and alert.

“What are you on?” he asks point blank.

“I…” I shake my head. “No. I’m not.” I swallow hard. “I’m not on anything.”

“Don’t give me that shit.” His scowl grows darker. “There’s a difference between a heavy sleeper and a woman who doesn’t realize she’s being fucked.”

A gasp escapes me as the reality of what he said sinks into me. He had…he—we had sex? “But…” my brain goes blank. This is too much to process in the middle of the night.

“That’s what I thought.” He pushes past me, going straight to my bag. “I don’t want any shit in my house.”

I take a deep breath, trying to stay calm, but my mind races.

I’m at his heels, the blood rushing to my cheeks. “It’s not drugs,” I explain from beside his shoulder, my voice trembling. “I have a prescription.”

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t addicted to something.” He jerks my bag to the edge of the counter, finding the pill box at the top, next to my hairbrush.

“Ezequiel, please,” I beg, my voice shaking. “ It’s just my medication.”

He grabs the pillbox. “I need it to function.”

I’m going into a near panic.

He doesn’t respond, but I can tell he’s not convinced. His jaw is clenched so tight I can see the muscles working. A knot forms in my stomach. This is not how I wanted things to go.

Ignoring my protests, he empties it into the toilet. I fold my arms under my breasts as he flushes it.

He doesn’t understand, doesn’t know what I’ve been through and how it changed my life. I’ve clawed my way to a semi-normal life, but I’m not sure I would have made it this far without help. It’s the reason I need the pills to function, to keep the demons at bay. I want to tell him, but the words stick in my throat.

My hands shake with frustration. Why can’t he just trust me? Why does he always assume the worst about me? I take a deep breath and try to stay calm.

The bathroom suddenly feels small and cramped, the tilesunderfoot\ cold and slippery, and I have to hold onto the sink to keep my balance.

I look up at Ezequiel, hoping to see some sign of understanding. But all I see is anger and suspicion. I can’t take it anymore.

“Fine,” I say, my voice shaking with anger. “You don’t trust me? Then maybe it’s better if I just leave.”

I grab my bag from his hands and storm out of the bathroom, leaving Ezequiel standing there in silence.

Chapter 19

Ezequiel

I trudge through the thick mud, feeling it seep into my boots, numbing my toes. Meanwhile, the heat of the day chips away at my strength. The cow’s pitiful mooing reaches my ears, making me quicken my pace. I have to get closer, but, with every step, the mud’s suction-like grip slows me down.

The cow’s desperate eyes plead with me for help, and I can feel my heart wrench in response.

I curse under my breath, my frustration mounting. I wish I had brought more help with me, but Addler gave the cowboys the weekend off, leaving me to deal with the ranch on my own. That leaves me with only one person I can call.

With a deep breath, I pull out my phone and dial Addler, hoping he’ll pick up. The phone rings a few times before he answers.

“What?” he answers, sounding annoyed.

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