Brutal Heir (Billionaire Heirs #2)

Chapter 8

Ezequiel

I grip the steering wheel as I navigate the desolate road stretching out ahead of us. The sun is sitting low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the rugged landscape surrounding us.

Sage sits in the passenger seat of my truck, staring out the window at the passing scenery.

I should be glad she’s lost in thought, keeping her mouth shut. But I can’t help but wonder what the hell is going through her mind. I’m usually good at reading people, but I haven’t got her pegged. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that when a woman’s too quiet, something’s wrong, or it’s about to be.

I clear my throat, just to break the deafening silence. “We’re almost there.”

Sage nods. “Okay.” But doesn’t say much else. She’s on edge. Is it because I called her in for this job on her day off, or is it something else? Well, we’re almost done anyway.

We’re heading to the last stop. Hopefully we’ll find the dozer that’s not where it should be among the rest of what’s on site. It’s a simple job, but I’ve learned the hard way that things are rarely as simple as they seem.

As we drive, the road becomes rougher, causing me to slow down. The terrain is rugged and uneven, thanks to the rain earlier in the week and the trucks coming through.

Again, I’m annoyed. If I was on my own, I wouldn’t have to worry about getting stuck. I’d walk back if I needed to. But I’m with Sage, and she’s wearing those ridiculous sandals.

Those damn sandals started it all. They’re showing off pink toenails, which led to pink shorts, and pink lips, and left me thinking about anything else on her that might be pink. Of all the god damn times—

“I can’t believe I’m going to ask this,” she says, breaking my train of thought. “But, is this area safe?”

I glance over at her again. She looks worried. Considering how green she is when it comes to the ranch, it shouldn’t surprise me.

“ Now you worry about being safe?”

She’s sitting in my truck, with me, and she worries. But, when she’s running around on her own, without a damn weapon, in a truck that barely has 4x4, she thinks she’s okay.

“Nowhere on this ranch is completely safe.”

She tightens her lips. “I meant having to go out on this road.”

Even with the attitude, she looks too damn pretty. I’ve managed to keep her at a distance, but my cock’s been semi hard since she showed up at the hangar. I know exactly what button to push now.

I smirk at her, relishing the satisfaction of getting under her skin. I make sure to curl the corner of my lips up so she can see, taunting her. “What’s the matter? Getting sent out to the job sites too far below your pay grade? You feel like you’re slumming right now?”

As expected, the muscle at her jaw tightens. “You’re impossible.” For an added bonus, she folds her arms right under those mouthwatering tits as she looks away.

That should keep things civil for a while. We continue the drive a couple more miles. Up ahead, there’s a big gap in the brush and mesquites. Truckloads of caliche are piled high, stacked up back to back at the edge of the clearing. They were just starting work on the well pad when the weather turned bad.

My pulse quickens as we get closer. In a few months, Kelly Oil & Gas will have everything set up for the five wells they have planned here. And that’s only the first step.

I have a lot riding on this project. I paid a couple million for the mineral rights when I had Addler buy this place for me. He’ll transfer it over when the time is right. It’s my best chance of going legit and dragging any future generations from the family business.

We arrive at the site, and I bring the truck to a stop. The clearing is filled with heavy machinery parked to one side, including several bulldozers. Likely we found the one we’re missing. The problem is, while they’ve started working on the pad, the damp ground may not support the truck’s weight, and we’ll end up stuck. Again, I’m stuck having to take Sage into consideration.

After scanning the area, I open the door and exit the truck. “Wait here.” I toss the instruction over my shoulder. “I’ll go check it out.”

But the passenger door opens, catching me off guard. “No way.” She shakes her head . “I’m not going to sit here and wait for you.”

“Stay in the truck, Sage,” I say firmly, but it’s a waste of breath. Even through the front windshield, I can see the determination in her expression.

“I can handle it.” She jumps out, slamming the door behind her.

Damn woman . I clench my jaw, taking the last few steps around the front of the truck. She barely manages to take a step when the distinct sound of a rattle fills the air. I freeze, my senses heightened. It’s the last thing you want to hear when you’re out in the middle of nowhere.

Sage freezes midstep. Her mouth drops open in a terror-filled expression. Every bit of color has left her face. She sucks in a breath, for what will likely be a bloodcurdling scream.

“Quiet.” I keep my voice even, catching her before she can make a sound. At least she has enough sense to listen this time.

I scan the area beside us, searching for the rattler. I know from experience how dangerous these reptiles can be. All I see is dirt, rocks, and grass. It’s not under the truck, so it has to be…

“It’s behind me,” she confirms, barely above a whisper.

I straighten so I can see past her shoulder. Sure enough, the animal’s coming out of the grass, the rattle sticking up from what looks like a six-foot body. It’s slithering along the edge of the road, its body going over rocks and brush, coiling as it prepares to strike. That only leaves me a second or so to act.

“Give me your hand.” Reaching out with my left, I grab her forearm, pulling her to me as I draw my gun with my right. She slams into my side. I use the momentum to pivot, getting her out of the way of a strike, in case I miss.

I bring my gun up, take aim, and squeeze the trigger then watch as the snake takes the bullet. Its body twists, dislodging from the initial coil. I aim two more shots at the head. The snake writhes slowly, not yet completely still. It’s always the most disturbing part, thinking a snake has to be dead, yet the body’s still inching along.

Sage’s arms are around me, her face tucked against my shoulder. She’s shaking. Who can blame her? Not that she can see it, but the snake’s longer than she is tall.

Her fingers curl into my shirt as I check the area, making sure there isn’t another threat to deal with. Damn it, now I’ve had to kill another animal because someone didn’t think to check their surroundings.

“Let’s get you in the truck,” I say, but Sage’s body tenses, and she tightens her hold on me. Does she think I’m going to take her to the thing that could’ve attacked her? “Come on. We’re going to the driver’s side.”

Her grip loosens, and I’m able to get her to move, though her step is unsteady. There’s too much at stake to try and have her walk around the truck. I set my gun in the holster and swoop down to put my shoulder to her stomach. She lets a surprised yelp as I straighten.

“Hush,” I say, knowing it’s not the slickest move, but it’s the most effective in case I might need to pull my weapon again.

Once we reach the truck, I open the door and set her behind the wheel. She collapses against the backrest, pale lips trembling. “You’re okay now,” I assure her. “If you’re gonna throw up, aim for the floorboard. Don’t open the door.”

She shuts her eyes. “I won’t.”

“Good girl,” I say before turning my attention back to the equipment sitting a few yards away. It matches what’s on the inventory, plus the bulldozer we had missing. I could easily call it a day, but that’s not how I work. “Let me go check the dozer, then we’re outta here.”

I close the door, leaving her on her own while I set out to confirm the serial number is the one on the list. I’m going to tell Addler to have them paint a number on the chassis big enough to see from a distance. They can use that orange spray paint they put all over the ground.

This situation could have turned deadly if one of the crew had been out here on their own. They can’t carry guns and may not have seen the danger in time. Coming face -to-face with a six-foot rattlesnake is bad enough. Having it dig its fangs into your leg without being able to do much to it is something else.

Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I still see it happen.

* * *

Sage

“Wait here,” he commands, voice laced with enough arrogance to make my skin prickle. “I’ll go check it out.”

Worse, he thinks it’s a given that I’m going to obey. Does he think I’m incapable of handling myself? I clench my fists and brace myself to tell him off, but, before I can say a word, he’s shut the door and is striding off with an air of confidence that borders on conceit. The nerve of this guy!

I grit my teeth and stare after him, a knot forming in my stomach. I can’t just wait here like a useless lump. With a determined shake of my head, I grab the door handle and push it open, not willing to have him do everything for me.

“No way,” I announce. “I’m not going to sit here and wait for you.”

“Stay in the truck, Sage,” he warns, turning to face me.

I won’t be told what to do, especially by him. I’m not some damsel in distress who needs rescuing. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much.

“I can handle it,” I assert in a firm voice. I climb out and slam the door shut behind me, determined to prove to him that I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. I move forward, intending to catch up with him, but when he reaches the end of the truck, a bone-chilling sound stops me in my tracks.

A rattle. The sound of a snake in the vicinity. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. In this part of the country, they grow big and mean. And, with my luck, I got one of the worst ones.

Panic seizes me, freezing me where I stand. What do I do? I can’t think straight. This is like a scene from a horror movie. The giant snake’s coming up from behind me, its jaw open wide enough to swallow me whole. Oh God. I’m going to fall over. It’s going to catch up. I suck in a breath, ready to scream.

“Quiet.” The strength in his voice cuts through my terror, snapping me out of my stupor. He scans the ground around us searching for the snake.

“Behind me.”

The snake must be big enough that he can spot it from where he’s standing. His poker face is nerve-wracking. Is it bad? Stupid question. Yes, it has to be. I can’t see it, but I can feel it. It’s too close. I’m not even covered by jeans, and there’s a snake behind me. I should be asking myself how close it is, how bad it is.

“Give me your hand.”

I hear the words in his unmistakable voice, but I’m practically blind. Tunnel vision leaves his face in focus, but I can’t see much else around me. I thrust a hand out, cringing as I anticipate fangs digging into me from behind.

There’s pressure around my forearm, and I’m virtually lifted off my feet. With a mumbled prayer, I push off with the tips of my toes, trying to get out of reach of danger. His powerful arm pulls me toward him, and I land against his left side with a solid thud. It’s like hitting a concrete barrier, only there’s a little give.

The sound of his gun going off reverberates in my head. I turn away, setting my left ear against his shoulder and burying my nose in his shirt. The scent of him fills my nostrils. It’s beyond detergent or fabric softener. It’s him. And I’ll forever associate the scent with this moment.

The gun goes off again. I flinch, tightening my hold on him like he’s the anchor I need to keep me steady.

“Let’s get you in the truck.”

Oh God. He wants me to move. I swallow hard. What if there’s another one close by? I try my best, but somehow I can’t get my body to move.

“Come on. We’re going to the driver’s side.”

He takes a step back, and I have no choice but to let him go. I’m not going to be clinging to him as he tries to move away. I gather what’s left of my dignity and concentrate on trying to put one foot in front of the other.

Ezequiel bends down and, in a flash, he puts his shoulder to my midriff. A second later, my feet leave the ground, then the world turns upside down. This time I do let out a scream.

“Hush.” His voice is gentler than I’ve ever heard it when directed at me.

He turns around, and I brace myself against his broad back so I’m not just dangling here. He opens the driver’s side door and gently lowers me onto his seat. It’s the most thoughtful thing he’s ever done.

I lose all strength in my extremities as adrenaline rushes through me.

“You’re okay now.” He nods, as if to assure me everything’s fine. “If you’re gonna throw up, aim for the floorboard. Don’t open the door.”

I shut my eyes, utterly embarrassed at what just happened. “I won’t,” I manage to croak, shaking my head.

“Good girl.”

Good grief . He didn’t just try to praise me for not throwing up, did he?

“Let me go check the dozer then we’re outta here.”

He closes the door, making sure I’m secured inside the truck. While I sit here, my heart racing and my body still trembling with fear, he continues on to finish the job. He pauses, taking another look at where the snake should be, then keeps walking. Meanwhile, I can barely find the strength to drag myself over to the passenger seat.

You don’t belong here.

After a few minutes, Ezequiel comes back to the truck, his expression stoic, unreadable. He climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the engine, the sound filling the cab of the truck. We drive down the dirt road, back toward the hanger.

I’m still shaken, my hands trembling in my lap. I’m embarrassed that I let my fear get the best of me. Worse still, I had to be rescued by him. At the same time, I’m grateful to him for being there, for protecting me from danger.

We drive in silence for a while, the only sound the rumble of the truck. He doesn’t even put music on.

I’m lost in my thought, trying to figure out what to do now that he’s been proven right. We’re finally within sight of the hangar. I gather up my courage and say what has to be said.