Brutal Heir (Billionaire Heirs #2)

Chapter 3

Sage

You don’t belong out here .

My back straightens and my shoulders stiffen as I suck in a breath. The buzzing in my ears increases, drowning out everything else around me.

Wow . How dare he tell me I don’t belong here? The gall… Who does this guy think he is?

A retort rushes to the tip of my tongue; somehow I manage to bite it back at the last second. If this was personal, I’d let him have it. But it’s not. This is my job, a responsibility entrusted to me. I’ll stay true to the badge and uniform, which means I’ll remain professional. No matter what, I’m not going to sink to his level.

I take a deep breath and wet my lips. “Bill will be by to talk to you.” My tone is steady, emotionless. He can’t know how deep he cut.

Gathering the storm of emotions brewing around me, I raise my chin and turn to walk past him, back to my truck.

“The way you’re going,” he says from behind me, “you’re gonna end up on one of your reports.”

I tighten the grip on my cell phone and refuse to take the bait. I just need to make it to the safety of the truck and shut him out. Just a few more steps. One, two, three, four, five. The crunch of caliche under my boot signals each step. Urgency builds inside me, making it feel like I’m rushing, like I should slow down.

Numb, I reach for the handle, yanking the door open. I shove the phone in my back pocket and climb in. Slamming the door behind me, I snatch the seatbelt, drawing it down and across my chest.

I’m not going to look.

I don’t care what he’s doing.

I don’t need to know.

Each of those statements is perfectly reasonable. But as much as I try to convince myself, I know I can’t make it happen. Almost without my consent, my gaze flicks back to him. It’s as big of a mistake as I figured it would be. The big jerk is standing there, a damn grin across his stupid face.

It’s enough to make my blood boil.

I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white. It’s all I can do not to whip the truck around and kick up mud on the jerk.

I hit reverse, going into the grass, which I know I shouldn’t do. Well, it’s just one more thing for him to criticize me about, isn’t it . He can add it to a damn list if he wants . I put the truck in gear and head out the one-lane road to where I came in.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I let him get to me.

It hurts that he would go to such lengths to point out my shortcomings. What makes it so much worse is that he’s not wrong. That’s what irks me. I’m not a damn rookie, I know better.

When I first started working with Kelly Oil & Gas, at another location, I took care of orientation. I stressed the need to be aware of your surroundings as part of the safety course for first timers. Now, here we are, when I should be following my own advice, and I totally blew it.

It’s him . Ezequiel. He’s the reason I forgot every lick of training I’ve had and done. Being around the brute throws me off my game. He’s always in a dark mood. I’m used to that. But seeing him so angry made it worse than usual. I reacted to him and went totally blank to the point I didn’t think to watch where I was stepping.

He used it against me in the worst possible way.

Tears burn behind my eyes.

I get it if it was about me being from the city, because I didn’t grow up on a ranch. I’ve never been on a horse. I’d never been this close to a cow. And I’d never, in my worst nightmares, thought I’d end up seeing an animal killed right in front of me. So no, in that sense, I don’t fit in.

Only he was referring to my job.

I’m damn good at what I do. I’m always on time. Never miss a day. I take emergency calls at any hour. The schedules are done and posted for the guards. I make sure all the shifts are covered, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, even holidays. My paperwork is in order, with all the detail to tell the full story. And I don’t leave anyone in the dark.

I damn well deserve to be here as much, if not more, than anyone else.

So, why is it that a few minutes with Ezequiel Mata make me feel so inadequate?

I blink rapidly, trying to keep tears at bay. There’s no crying when you’re on the job. Safety, security, and law enforcement don’t allow for weakness. The bad guys will jump on it and exploit it.

Yet, a sole tear escapes, racing over my cheek. I dash it away with the back of my hand. Oh God, at least this didn’t happen in front of him. It would just be one more reason for him to think I’m a screwup.

Every time I think I’ve gotten my life in order, something happens, and I slide back into the darkness. This little incident reminds me that I have to work hard at dealing with life and everything it brings.

I take a calming breath and glance into the rearview mirror. Ezequiel is standing by his truck, watching me drive away. Even at this distance, I can feel his anger. I swear I could feel the heat of it when I was standing next to him. He was that furious.

He’s a tough man to deal with, but I never expected him to be such an ass. Ugh, that just gets me riled up all over again.

I can’t stop the anger flowing through me. I can’t help the frustration welling up inside me. One at a time, I can handle, but both… I hate it . I hate feeling like I’m inadequate, like I can’t do better than a half-ass job.

He doesn’t know me, doesn’t understand what I’ve been through. What I’ve overcome. Yet he went for the jugular, finding what hurts most. And he got the best of me.

What’s worse, Bill wanted me to defuse the situation, but I didn’t do a damn thing. So, what now?

I try to shake off the anger he’s left me with.

My thoughts are racing, my chest feels tight, and my breathing is shallow. My heartbeat’s pounding in my ears, a physical manifestation of the frustration coursing through me.

As I drive down the dusty road, I can’t help but replay our interaction in my mind. The way he towered over me, his posture aggressive, voice laced with disdain. The way he made me feel small and insignificant.

I take a deep breath and try to focus on the road ahead, but my mind keeps drifting back to Ezequiel’s words. You don’t belong here . It’s not the first time he’s made me feel like I have no business being here, but today it felt different. It felt personal.

I know I shouldn’t let him get to me, but it’s hard not to take it personally. I’ve worked hard to get to where I am, to earn the respect of my colleagues and the trust of the man in charge. And yet, in Ezequiel’s eyes, it all means nothing.

I shake my head, trying to clear my mind. I can’t let his words get to me. I have a job to do, my way, and I need to focus on that. But, as I glance in the rearview mirror, I see him standing by his truck watching me drive away.

A sense of disappointment wells up inside me, followed by frustration. I’ll have to figure out a way to deal with Ezequiel. If I’m going to continue working here, I’ll have to deal with him. There’s no two ways about it.

Reaching the intersection, I stop and check the road. The convoy hasn’t made it out of the area. They won’t have, not when they have to keep it to twenty miles per hour, but it shouldn’t be much longer. Meanwhile, the cows have ventured farther out. Only two are still by the road, munching on the grass along the fence.

Blowing out a breath, I pull out, turn, and stop. Glancing around me, to make sure I’m alone, I jump down and backtrack to the gate. I keep my attention on the ground, ignoring the truck and the man who ruined my morning.

With a final snake-check, I pull the gate closed and drop the latch. Sigh. It would have taken two minutes to avoid this entire problem. Why don’t these guys have a lick of sense? I turn, catching sight of the cows, and come to a realization. I didn’t think twice about the open gate when I came through because I’m a city girl.

All right, so it’s about education. Telling these guys why to keep the gate closed, instead of just the fact they should. I swallow my pride and pull the radio from my hip as I walk back to the truck. “Gate five, come in.” I may as well do this over the radio so all the gates are aware—even though it’s what he suggested I do.

“Gate five,” the guard replies as I climb into the cab.

“Start advising the crews to make sure that if they open a gate, they close it behind them so we don’t have cattle escape.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies. “Ranch manager called a couple of minutes ago.”

That insufferable—

“We have to tell all visitors to leave the gate like they found it. If they open a gate, they have to close it behind them.”

And just like that, my moment of peace is shattered.