Page 4 of Riding Wicked

It’s true. I do know what I’m doing here, but I’m not sure how to say it. I nod. “I saw what your dad did to you earlier.”

Her brows narrow and her gaze drops. “What?”

I drag in a deep breath of sweet alfalfa and let it out slowly. “Your father hurt you.”

“No. I know that’s what you think you saw.” She lets her eyes wander around the barn. “Howdid you see it?”

Telling her that I’ve been watching for days doesn’t sound as mentally stable as it did when I was alone up on the ridge. So, I choose my next words carefully as I say, “I was passing through and I—”

“Passing through?You were passing through and you ended up in my barn with a pocketful of steak?”

This is the shit I’m not good at.The talking. The rationalizing. The making sense of the overwhelming urge I have to protect and own this woman I have no right to own.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I drag in a deep breath, trying to bite back what I know I’m about to say, but the longer I see that purple bruise on her arm, the more infuriated I get.

“Do you need anything from the house?” I grumble out the words as I stalk toward her. I realize she’s been controlled by too many men in her life and if I want her affection, I should slow down and let her choose what happens next, but sometimes you have to help people help themselves, and this is one of those times.

She licks her soft lips and pinches her brows together. “I’m sorry, what? I can’t leave. Whatever you saw is only the tip of the spear, and you can’t throw raw meat at my father to quiet him down.”

My chest rises and falls as I force the barbarian bubbling out back inside. Though, it’s not much use. I am who I am, and there’s no way I’m leaving without Oakley.

She seems to have other plans. Rolling her eyes, she crosses her arms over her chest. “Seriously, Knight. Thanks, but—”

I bend down and lift her into my arms, cradling her frame gently against my chest.

“What are you doing?” She shrieks and slaps my back with little effort. “Let me go!”

“You’re not thinking straight. You need help, so I’m helping you.” I slide out of the barn and close the door with my free hand, allowing the dogs out first.

“Why does everyone act like I can’t think for myself? Clearly, I can.”

Staying quiet helps me avoid stupidity, so I continue with that.

“Let me go!” She kicks and hammers my back with her small fists, and I know a nice guy would set her down and move along with his life, but I’ve never been a fan of nice guys. What does being nice get you?

“If you really wanted me to let you down, you’d be screaming a little louder. Don’t you think?” Sure, she’s making noise, but it’s far too quiet to cause alarm to anyone but my eardrums and the dogs. Maybe that was her point.

One by one, they trot out of the barn, baring their teeth. One dog in particular seems personally offended by my caveman behavior. She stood out earlier because her coloration is different from the other dogs. She’s white with the smallest black diamond on her forehead, which is odd for a German Shepard.

“Zilly will kick your ass,” Oakley says, giving up on the kicking and screaming. “She’s a trained attack dog.”

“Well then, I’m going to have a fight on me because I’m not letting you go.”

The dogs bark louder. One after the other, riling each other up like a pack of wolves, though something tells me if I set Oakley down, they’d stop immediately.

“My father is going to hear them,” Oakley whispers. “Seriously, put me do—”

A gunshot rings out a hundred yards away, and then another.

“You could’ve told me your father was crazy.” I laugh and settle Oakley onto the ground, holding her hand tight in mine.

“Ha. Ha.” She stares up at me with wide eyes through the silver moon sky. “We should make a run for the pond.”

“The pond? Will the pond make his gun disappear?”

Her eyes roll to the side. “It’s not a real pond. It’s a pool. We can hide under the waterfall.”

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