Page 34 of Saddled in Secrets
I force my eyes to remain fixed ahead. “We aren’t going to Zumbrota.”
In my peripheral, Bianca goes very still. “Where are you taking me?”
“To a different barrel race.”
“Where, Colton?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“Why?” Her voice is too calm, ready to raise hell or an alarm depending on my answer.
“My father proved he can’t listen. He won’t stop harassing you until I surrender or end what’s left of his miserable life. Rather than do him a favor, I decided to remove you from his reach.”
Her breathing grows shallow. “Would you actually do that?”
“Do what?”
She huffs. “Don’t act innocent now. Have you hurt people?”
“Yes.”
Her posture stiffens. “Did you kill any of them?”
“Haven’t been pushed that far, but I’d do it for you.”
“That’s concerning.” But the raspy edge in her voice suggests she’s more worried about her reaction.
I wonder what was swirling through her mind when I said my father deserved worse than death for involving her in his criminal business. “Does it scare you?”
“Probably should,” she mumbles.
“But?”
“You’ve never given me a reason to fear you. The worst you’ve done is act as a massive obstacle to block my freedom.” She makes me sound like a construction cone.
“I’d hate for you to see what I’m actually capable of.”
Bianca is studying me, trying to peel away my protective layers. “Who are you?”
“Those secrets aren’t free.”
“Are you gonna blackmail me?” She huffs. “Brody probably gave you tips.”
“No,” I grunt in response. “I’d prefer if my past stayed buried.”
“But you’ll tell me if…” She trails off, expecting me to fill in the blank.
The truth is, Bianca doesn’t realize what she’s asking. The answers will cost her a lot more than a polite conversation. Probably more than she’s willing to give. Not that I’d ever push her. What happens between us romantically will always be her choice.
“I’m willing to negotiate,” I say.
“What do you want?”
“For now, I’d like you to go along for the ride and not kick up a fuss.”
That triggers her memory of our situation. Fire burns in her glare, searing my averted gaze. “Stop the truck.”
“Not gonna happen.”
