Page 104 of Saddled in Secrets
“I don’t prefer to think about my job like that.”
Bianca leans close. “Now that we’re doing it? Mhmm, seems like a Human Resources nightmare.”
“My position is head of security for the company. It’s very broad and includes many duties. I just happen to spend most of my hours stuck to your ass like those jeans.”
She spanks herself. “Can’t say I blame you. And for the record, I’m not complaining. Let’s go.”
“Where to?” But I’m already following her to Fern.
“Camp Cloverleaf.”
That stops me short. “No.”
She whirls like a ballerina, but her glare belongs in a cage match. “Yes.”
“It’s not safe,” I argue.
Her scoff calls me an idiot. “Seriously, Stalker? It’s a therapeutic establishment for children. Do you honestly think someone is going to attack me while I’m surrounded by families?”
“Already happened.”
I’d always considered it a low threat level until her last shift. The woman that confronted her in the barn remains a mystery, which marks the spot as dangerous. That’s one reason I made the decision to whisk her away to the other house. Unfortunately, Bianca doesn’t share the same concern.
Her hands park on her hips. “I love you, but I’m not a pushover. Either take me or I’ll go alone.”
That’s how I find myself scouring the outdoor portion of the camp fifteen minutes later. My focus rakes over crowded pathsand tables that are set between the corrals. There are too many people. Any number of them could be on my father’s payroll. This heavy sense of dread sits in my stomach like a cinderblock. It overshadows the insatiable urge to be buried in her pussy.
“Relax. It’s just for a quick visit,” Bianca assures me.
Which turns into an hour faster than my continuous scan of the area can track. She fusses over every kid and animal she comes across. We don’t make it a single step without her finding a reason to stop. It’s obvious she’s adored by this community, but it only takes one individual to change that.
Bianca slides her hand into mine, which eases an ounce of the pressure off my chest. “Are you okay?”
“I will be once we leave.”
Her compassion melts into a frown. “What happened to looking on the bright side?”
My stoic mask doesn’t slip. “That’s easier to do when we’re in a secure location.”
She studies my expression. “You haven’t smiled since we arrived back in town.”
“Those are few, far between, and reserved for you during happy circumstances.” Which doesn’t describe this congested setting.
Her mouth stoops lower. “Did your father get released from the hospital?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then what are you so worried about?”
“He’s still alive,” I deadpan. “That makes me uneasy.”
“I suppose that’s… fair. Do you think he’s that determined to get at you?”
My gut tightens. “I’m not sure what he’s capable of in his condition. The promise of death might make him desperate.”
“What does he want from you?”
That’s the million-dollar question. “At this point, it’s tough to say. Respect? Loyalty? Some bizarre, misguided sense of passing the torch?”
