Brutal Heir (Billionaire Heirs #2)

Chapter 1

Sage

I slide into the 4x4 and check the time as I shut the door. Seven o’clock. I suck in a quick breath and press the button to dial in to the morning conference call.

My phone signals an incoming call then Elena Santos’s name flashes on the screen. I wince. She’s probably checking to see why I’m running late. Everyone’s waiting on me.

Biting my lip, I decline her call. Come on . The call connects to the meeting, leaving me a fraction of a second to take a calming breath before I announce myself.

“This is Sage Donohue, reporting in from Alpha section at La Escuadra Ranch .” A feeling of dread drops into my stomach. Something’s wrong. I just know it.

“Go ahead, Sage,” Elena says, sounding distracted. “Bill’s on the phone.”

And there it is. I should have answered . My heart races. The fact he’d take a call while he should be in the morning meeting sets an alarm blaring in the back of my mind.

In the oil and gas industry, there is no such thing as a typical day. Moving a drilling rig from one area to another can cause problems at the best of times. The weather had us at touch and go, but we got the green light to move ahead.

“All the security checks for the rig move are done, with no problems to report.”

“No issues with the rain we had earlier in the week?” she asks.

“Not as far as I can tell.” Somehow, I managed to keep my voice from shaking when I said that. “I drove the route we’ll be taking, and the road is stable.”

The one thing in our favor is that the roads at this ranch are well-maintained at the owner’s insistence. Apparently there was an incident that caused problems for the family in the past, so Mr. de Marco included a clause about the maintenance in the contract.

“Any issues from the safety department?”

“None. They’ve signed off on the pre-trip inspection, confirming we’ve taken all the necessary precautions to ensure the safety of the crew and equipment.”

The crews had spent hours loading millions of dollars’ worth of drilling equipment on flatbed trailers using cranes and forklifts. Every piece, from the derrick to the port-a-potties, is held in place by either a strap or a chain, to keep them securely in place for the journey across the ranch.

I glance in the rearview mirror. “I currently have a line of trucks behind me. We’re waiting for the sun to come up in order to pull out.”

“Thank you, Sage. I’ll hand it over to Bill. He’s walking into the conference room.”

I swallow hard, trying to keep my anxiety at bay, but I’m impatient, wanting to hear what happened.

“It’d be too much to expect for the move to go off without a hitch,” Bill states, sounding weary. As the interim area manager, he’s responsible for everything that goes on in the Eagle Ford Shale until Kelly Oil & Gas sells the construction division.

Oh hell. “What happened?” I glance around at the mesquite and brush going on for miles in every direction. Nothing looks out of the ordinary. Every minute the group is on hold costs the company thousands of dollars in equipment cost and headcount.

“A crew from Bagley Services got lost in the dark. They wandered onto the restricted area in Alpha section.”

I let my eyelids drift closed, waiting for the bombshell about to drop.

“They ended up hitting a cow on their way out.”

The groans of disappointment and annoyance around the table make it through the speakers to surround me.

Damn, I almost would have preferred to have the porta potties fall over.

“Okay, so that didn’t cause a problem with the move. Do we start out?” I already know what he’s going to say, but I’m hoping beyond hope I’m wrong.

“Being that you’re closer,” he says with a note of resignation, “I’ll need you to head out there.” Although he’s confirming what I already expected, the words virtually echo in the truck cab, smothering me. “You’ll need to meet with the crew.”

Please stop there . I drop my forehead onto the truck steering wheel. Please don’t say —

“And the ranch manager,” he concludes, making my stomach twist up like a dirt devil on a windy day. “I just got off the phone with Ezequiel. He’s already on the way, and he’s going to get there well before I can. I’d rather you run interference between him and the driver.”

I drag in a deep breath, feeling a steady pounding behind my eyes. Ranch relations is a touchy subject in the energy business. More so when the manager’s an asshole, like this guy. Ezequiel Mata, the ranch manager is one of the main reasons I want nothing to do with the interim security manager title Bill offered.

I force myself to smile so I don’t take a surly tone with him in front of the entire team. “Understood.” I cross my fingers that I manage to pull it off. I agreed to oversee the day-to-day security detail on Bill’s behalf. It got me a significant bump in pay and a company truck. After this incident, I don’t know that it’s going to be enough.

Lord knows if someone other than Bill had asked me to fill in once Mike left, I would have declined without a second’s hesitation. It’s not like I’d get a black eye over it. Everyone knows Kelly Oil & Gas is looking to sell the construction division. That means all our jobs will go to the new company, so we don’t know if we’ll still be employed the day after the sale. And there’s no telling if they’ve had offers or what stage the negotiations might be in.

“Sage?” The question in his voice brings me back to the issue at hand. Did I miss something?

“Sorry Bill,” I reply sheepishly. “I’ll end the call now, if it’s okay, so I can get going.”

“Yes, go ahead,” he agrees. “I’ll head out after the meeting.”

“Thanks. I’ll see what I can do.” I stab at the red button on the phone screen with so much force my fingernail pushes up, making me wince. I stick my fingertip in my mouth, as if that’ll help ease the pain.

Great, this day is going from bad to worse. I reach for the radio, hitting the button on the side. “Come in, Emilio.” The beep announces the end of the connection.

“This is Emilio,” he replies.

“Move up to the lead.” I release the button on the radio, waiting for a reply.

“Roger,” he confirms.

I get out of the truck, slamming the door. The truck driver behind me raises his hands, frowning. I hold my palm out, signaling to wait, and he gives a thumbs up.

I walk behind the truck to the driver’s side and glance down the line. The heat and humidity add another layer of annoyance to my mood. How can it be in the mid-eighties at seven o’clock in the morning? The sun isn’t even fully up yet. The temperature and the snakes are the two things besides the ranch manager I don’t like about South Texas.

Emilio pulls the white security truck up next to me. He brings the window down, releasing a cool gust from the cab. “Hey, Miss Sage. Problem?” he asks, putting the gearshift to park.

“We’ve got a cattle strike in the restricted area.”

“Ooooh.” His eyebrows shoot up past the safety glasses he’s wearing. “That ‘ol’ boy’s gonna have himself a bad day.”

Now, there’s the understatement of the year. “Well, if the guy can’t control his vehicle at twenty miles an hour, he probably deserves it.”

Emilio pushes back his ball cap. “So what happens now?”

“I need to talk to the driver so I can write up an incident report.”

He cocks his head. “That’s not too bad.”

I give him a couple of seconds to see the big picture, then I finally do the big reveal. “And Ezequiel.”

He drops his chin, looking straight down toward the seat. “I’m sorry, Miss Sage,” he says, shaking his head as he straightens out.

I don’t deal with the ranch manager often, but, when I do, I can expect he’s going to be a jerk.

“Thanks.” I let out a breath. “I’m going to need you to take over.”

He gives a quick nod of acknowledgment.

“You know the route.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Call if you need me, or if anything happens.” I tap my hand on the door, feeling the heat of the metal seep into my fingers even though the sun isn’t up yet.

“Will do.” He nods sympathetically. “Good luck,” he adds as he raises the window.

Yeah, I’m going to need it. I turn on a heel, scanning the ground as I go around the truck bed then climb in the cab.

I start the engine, pressing down the gas pedal as a minor retaliation for what I’ll have to deal with for the company. I take a deep breath and shift into gear then head out to the restricted area.

This is the one time I wish I had to adhere to the twenty-mile-an-hour speed limit. I’ve avoided having time alone with my thoughts the last couple of years, but if I’ve ever needed time to think, it’s now.

Much too soon, I’ve left the line of vehicles in the distance. Isn’t it supposed to be that time flies when you’re having fun? This could never be considered fun.

It’s not enough time to figure out the best way to approach the situation—any situation with Ezequiel Mata. He’s bound to be angry, which can be as bad as dealing with a grizzly having a bad day. Worse, I need to come up with a way to defuse the situation.

I reach the intersection with the main road and check traffic. To the left, several cows are munching on grass while others are following the road. Hm, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them moving around. But the sheer size of them makes me wonder how the driver could have missed seeing one.

I turn right, heading back toward the highway. Then I book it, which here means hitting forty miles an hour, something only security can do, and only in an emergency. Which may not be the best idea at the moment. I lift my foot off the gas, so I’m not having to explain how I was the next fool to hit a cow.

I reach the turn into one of the restricted areas and go straight through the gate onto a narrow road. The brush isn’t cut back here, so the mesquites and grass are only a few yards away.

The crew truck is in the distance, sitting in the middle of the road. I swallow hard, I won’t have much time to talk to the driver before Ezequiel shows up. He doesn’t have any restriction on how fast he can drive while on-site.

On the heels of that thought, another truck comes around the bend, stopping right behind them.

My stomach drops.

“Oh hell,” I mutter to myself. I’ll be walking into the lion’s den. Sure enough, a lone figure comes around the back of the truck. The dark cowboy hat sits atop a towering frame with broad shoulders, muscled arms, and a stride that leaves no doubt as to the mood he’s in.