Page 22 of Saddled in Secrets
“You won’t see me again unless you force the issue, and then you won’t like the outcome.”
My father squints at the overhead light where bugs are swarming. “I’m dying anyway. How much worse could it be?”
I grunt. “Of all people, you should know the answer.”
His attempt at coaxing me back into the fold misfires like a shoddy pistol. My father must read the decision in my blank stare. He nods and steps back.
“I’ll be seeing you, son.”
“Not your son.”
Amusement brightens his gnarled features. “Disowning me officially?”
I turn away, but give him the answer as my parting gift. “Did that when I walked out the first time. Hammer this reminder into your thick skull. There won’t be a third one.”
Knots tighten in my stomach as I tiptoe across the yard. I stick to the shadows, avoiding spots that will trigger the motion detectors. Just a few more feet until I reach my car. After that, I can go wherever I want and stay gone until my moral compass drags me home. There isn’t much of a plan beyond getting past these walls caging me in.
“I can do this.” The whispered encouragement is purely for me and the nerves trying to lock my legs. “Stay sleuthy, Bee.”
Tonight unfolded into opportunity. Dad has bingo, which keeps him occupied until nine o’clock. Brody decided to take his wife out for dinner. Colton was the last to leave, trailing after my brother and Paisley as if I went along with them. My phone that’s secretly tucked into her purse strongly suggests that’s the case.Following a false scent serves him right. I had my suspicions about him tracking and that confirmed it.
The window for escape is slim. I’m moments away from finally running wild. My muscles flex in preparation and I dash to the large boulder that hides me from the last sensor. It will really suck if my brother or Colton getalerted to me creeping across the lawn. Black leggings and a hooded pullover only hide me to a certain extent.
The cool metal of my sleek Audi meets my back once I cover the remaining distance. My door opens with a whoosh. A smile curls my lips when the overhead lights stay off. That was smart thinking, but I don’t have much time to gloat. I slip onto the leather seat like a stain. My index finger shakes as I push the ignition button. The quiet purr from the engine resembles a stampede trampling on the silence.
Terror freezes me for several seconds. My wide eyes scan from left to right, triple-checking that the coast is clear. Paranoia has its claws in me, but there’s no sign of anyone. Sweat slicks my palms when I grip the wheel and pull forward onto the driveway.
I use my brother’s code at the gate just for shits. It’s the same reason I made a fake body lump under my covers before fleeing the scene. Colton will curse me for that extra detail. Too bad I won’t be there to see it.
The road to freedom appears in front of me like a miracle. Tingles race up my spine as I stare straight ahead. There’s nothing except darkness, but it’s never looked more inviting. My foot meets the accelerator and I’m gone.
“Holy shit,” I breathe. “I did it. I actually freaking did it!”
Thunder crashes in my pulse and can probably be heard from a mile away. Nobody is here to listen. The street is blissfully empty. My high beams blaze across familiar landscape that willlead me to nowhere in particular.Paradise.Flutters replace the tightness in my gut and I press harder on the gas.
“See ya, Colton.” My laughter is manic as I celebrate this small victory. “Good luck explaining my disappearance to the boss.”
The thrill of pulling this off shimmies my hips. That’s when I realize what’s missing. I created a playlist full of women power anthems just for this occasion. “Girl on Fire” by Alicia Keys is the first song to blast through the speakers. Positive energy radiates from the tempo. I start singing like I’m on stage, putting on the performance of a lifetime. As I’m belting out the lyrics, stress flakes off my shoulders like burnt skin.
I’m about to really let loose on the chorus when movement in the backseat strangles my vocal cords. A shadowy figure appears in the rearview mirror, noticeably sitting upright. My scream hits an octave that might shatter the windows. The intruder doesn’t appear fazed by my shrieking.
“Holy shit!”
This time, the expletive is paired with a sharp swerve. The tires squeal as I struggle to regain control. A muscular, tattooed arm shoots forward to stabilize the wheel.
I recognize the ink first. His woodsy scent is a close second. Somehow, the telltale cologne didn’t register while I was focused on making a run for it. The weight of a shackle returns to my ankle as if it never left. What a damn tease.
My palm blindly smacks at the volume button in an attempt to hear myself think. The quiet does little to comfort me. Fringes of fear still shadow the edges of my vision. I try to slow my breathing and soothe this frantic response. It fails, much like this attempt at freedom. So much for leaving my troubles behind. The road in front of me now leads to a dead end.
Heat pricks at my eyes, but I choke down the threat of tears. I won’t cry. Not in front of him.
“Are you fucking serious, Colton?” I grit out between clenched teeth.
“Princess.” The nickname is a scold. “Did you really think it would be that easy?”
His tone is calm as he casually props an elbow on the center console. Meanwhile, I’m fighting to keep my heart from beating out of my chest. I focus on the bold yellow lines that disappear into pitch black.
“Why are you lurking in my backseat?”
