Page 89 of What I Should Have Known

Anger briefly tightened his jittery features. “I didn’t know you knew about that.”

“I do, and it’s okay.” I gave him another smile, and swallowing the disgust, I reached forward and brushed my hand down his arm. “But something changed from then to now. I see it’s different now. Even if that’s why you noticed me at first, something changed. So, I’m asking what changed.”

His tongue flicked out, wetting his bottom lip and then he exhaled. “Bluntly put, you’re the kind of girl that all moms love but boys don’t notice. Especially with your friend Emma around. So, I don’t have to worry about you. I don’t have to worry about other guys looking at you, or you having other options because you’re fat. I like that you’re not insecure about your body, but even I know you’re not experienced with men because nobody sees you.”

Wyatt paused as my stomach dropped. The blood ran cold in my body as his backhanded compliment shifted. His words and tone tightened, arrogance lifted upon his tongue as he continued. “I like that you’re a virgin, because you’ll not know anything different than what I decide to do to you. Hell, even your boyfriend in high school only dated you because someone dared him to since you’re chubby, so it only reinforces the fact that you won’t end up jealous if some girl flirts with me. And you won’t leave me for some other dude.”

“Wh-what?” I asked, wrapping my arms around myself.

He tipped his head. “You didn’t know about your ex, did you?” A manic chuckle escaped his chest. “Yeah, I looked into you when my parents told me I had to either pick a wife, or they’d pick one for me. I wanted to know the type of girl that they would accept without questions as well as who I would be marrying. And wouldn’t it just be my luck that it’s someone as plain and undesirable as you but with a family situation and reputation that I need.”

Gritting my teeth, I fought the boil of frustration curdling the blood in my veins. He was clearly high on some drug.

“I get to live out my life on this ranch, with a wife who has no other options, leaving me open to do whatever the hell I want to do. Doesn’t that sound perfect?” He reached forward and flicked a thumb beneath my chin, lifting it so my gaze met his.

“Wear red on Saturday,” he said and then dropped his touch from my skin as if a hot knife had slit his finger.

Faking a smile, I nodded. “Red it is,” I said.

I wanted him to think I was compliant. I wanted him to think his words dug salt in the wounds he thought he’d created. I wanted him to think that I had no one but him. That there was nowhere else for me to go.

But the opposite exploded within me. I couldn’t wait to absolutely lay him out soon. I couldn’t wait for him to find out that someone had noticed me. Someone completely incredible. And dangerous.

Someone violent.

Someone who I knew would stop at nothing to protect me.

Even more so, I couldn’t wait for him to realize that Bernie wasn’t the only one who had noticed me. Ford had. In a different way than Bernie, but Ford had seen me as well.

Wyatt’s back faded from view as he strutted away from the house and down toward all of the vehicles parked like a used car lot in the driveway.

And the grinning face of someone who brought me excitement and security slipped into my peripherals. Bernie slid his hands behind his back and stepped up onto the porch. Leaning against the side of the doorframe, his grin widened even more.

Suspicion crept through my bones. “What did you do? I thought you’d be gone by now.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t about to leave you alone with him.”

“I told you I can—”

“Handle yourself. I don’t doubt it, baby. But I am a bit sadistic. And petty. And he called you fat.” One eye of his twitched as the engine to a truck roared to life.

Furrowing my brows, I studied him. “Again, what did you do?”

“Someone may or may not have loosened the drain plug on his truck.”

As the engine faded down the drive, he slowly brought his gaze back to mine.

“For the oil pan?” I asked.

He shrugged, but the smile didn’t lessen. “Also, he’s got maybe half a gallon left of gas, but someone may or may not have messed with the gas gauge so it won’t show him a proper reading.”

“Benjamin,” I scolded. But my heart fluttered with glee.

He wiggled his brows. “Oh, and he might be missing a few lug nuts. You know, one or two per hubcap.”

“What the hell, Bernie?” I giggled, despite my accusatory words, and he chuckled as the rumble of the engine dissipated into the distance.

“Also, there may have been some contact between nails and tires.”

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