Taming His Wild Girl (Wild Whip Ranch Book 2)

by Lee Savino

  My traitorous pussy started to water. No!

  I infused my voice with all the scorn of my sixteen-year-old self. “You think some hot sex and domination is going to cover up the fact that this isn’t my dream life? You’re a rancher, Joel. I’m an heiress. You’re nothing but a cowhand.”

  He recoiled like he’d been bitten by a snake. I felt lower than a reptile crawling on its belly.

  The pain I was causing was nothing to what I was feeling. But it was worth it to keep him alive. “This isn’t going to work, Joel. I thought I could do it, but… I can’t be happy here.”

  He sat down hard on the end of the bed, and scrubbed a hand across his face. “Then what do you want, Isabelle?”

  “My own life,” I lied. I twisted the ring on my finger. “I know you’ve done everything you can to help me. And you did help me. I’ll always be grateful.”

  “Grateful.” His tone was bitter. I kept mine light.

  “Of course. But, in the end, it’s not a real marriage. We’re not together, together.” I held my breath in the thick silence.

  “Fine.” He stood up and bunched his fist, and for a second, I thought he was going to punch the wall.

  Instead, he stormed out of the room.

  Guilt poisoned my veins, curdling in my stomach until it made me sick. I wanted more from him. More anger. I wanted him to punish me. To whup my ass like he’d never whupped it before.

  I ran out of the room after him.

  He was already out in the yard.

  “Is that all you’ve got to say?” I called. The barbed wire in my chest was back, twisting, twisting.

  “You said it yourself, Isabelle. It’s not a real marriage.” He raised a hand and dropped it, his back still to me. “Now you’ve got your money, you can go.”

  My eyes stung. “You think it’s about that?”

  His back was rigid. “Isn’t it?”

  “No, it’s not. And fuck you if you think it is.” I bit my tongue, expecting him to chastise me. Language.

  He shook his head, his jaw clenching. But he didn’t turn. He strode toward the tack room, arms swinging.

  “I’m sorry.” I gave in, trotting after him. My bottom was tingling as if he had threatened punishment. “Joel, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

  No answer. Joel was in his stallion, Flinders’s, stable, putting the headcollar on the fierce black horse.

  “You can punish me,” I offered, hovering in the doorway. I felt a burst of relief at the thought. One more punishment, then I’d be on my way.

  He looked up briefly. “No. I won’t touch you unless this marriage means something.” He buckled the headcollar behind Flinders’s ears. “You’re free to go, Isabelle. I’m not gonna stop you. I’m heading out for a long ride. Give you time to do what you need to do.”

  “Please, Joel.”

  For a moment he paused, his face hidden behind his horse. “Go on. You made your choice. I don’t have a claim to you anymore.”

  I didn’t make it to the house before tears overwhelmed me. They came in gasping sobs.

  I’d hurt him so bad, he didn’t even want to punish me. Didn’t even want to have to look at me.

  I stumbled up the porch steps and back to the bedroom, crying hard all the way.

  My phone was still on the bed where I’d left it, and it was bursting with messages. I snatched it up:

  You got 6 hours before I come and find you

  Dont make me do that

  Dont keep me waiting

  Tinkerbel?

  Where the fuck u go?

  Flip-flip-flip went my stomach as I read each dart of venom.

  I wiped my face with the back of my hand. I typed so fast, it was a bunch of nonsense. I deleted and started again: I’m here. I’ll come to the club now.

  The little circle at the top of the screen was green: Kelly is online. Meaning, Anton was online. I swallowed hard, my stomach convulsing.

  Kelly is typing…

  No. go to airport.

  Vancouver

  Bring your passport

  My stomach lurched.

  I meet you there.

  I typed: It’s 4 hours away

  I know sweety. I know where you are

  A blurry image appeared. With a shaking finger, I tapped it. It was a screenshot of Google maps. Featuring Ashcroft.

  “Oh god.” I splayed a hand over my stomach as if that would keep me from retching.

  How the fuck did they find out? I’d been desperately hoping that they were bluffing. But they’d tracked Joel down already.

  My vision went black. I squatted down quickly before I passed out.

  I took a few deep breaths and replied: Coming.

  I quit stuffing things in my suitcase. Clothes were the last things I cared about right now. Instead, I grabbed the wallet where I kept my passport, tossed it in the suitcase, and hurried through the house.

  Outside, I looked for Joel, but he was nowhere to be seen. He’d obviously gone off riding, no doubt trying to clear his head after all the bullshit I’d just given him.

  Then I stopped dead.

  How the hell was I going to get to the airport? In a taxi?

  That was a hell of a long way.

  Or I could get a taxi to my car in Hope, and drive the rest of the way?

  No—chances were that heap of junk wouldn’t start anyway.

  My gaze came to rest on Joel’s truck. That beautiful gleaming monster. He played it down, but I knew he loved it.

  No. I can’t.

  But if I didn’t, I was never going to make it to the airport, and Joel was going to get hurt.

  I didn’t have a choice.

  I ran over to the driver’s side. It was comically huge. Way too big for me. Even climbing into the cab was a lot. I clambered into the seat. The key was in the ignition, as usual—folks didn’t steal things around here.

  I shuffled the seat way forward until my feet reached the pedals.

  Hands shaking worse than ever, I turned the key. The engine turned over smoothly.

  Shit. It’s really happening.

  I glanced in the rearview mirror, put the stick into drive, and pressed lightly on the gas. It shot forward. A powerful beast, its engine roaring. Shit. Driving the Junk Monster had often felt like a mechanical process, hauling the wheel around, stomping on the gas. This huge beast needed to be treated with care. I oversteered as I was turning, and almost took out a fence post. For fuck’s sake. Not only had I stolen Joel’s truck but I was going to smash it up, too.

  Going at a snail’s pace, I maneuvered cautiously out of the yard. Once I got accustomed to it, the car actually moved like a dream. It was way easier than driving the Junk Monster.

  I’ve got this.

  Suddenly scared that Joel was going to come running back at the sound, I hit the gas hard, and I was off.

  At the end of the road, I turned right toward Hope. No need for GPS yet. Like Joel said—roads only go one way around here.

  I pushed at the speed limit all the way. I was scared something would go wrong along the journey, like I’d get in an accident, or have a breakdown, and I’d be late to reach Anton. What if they already had someone hiding at the ranch, waiting for Anton’s command?

  Thoughts circled around and around my head. What would Joel do when he came back from his ride and saw the truck was gone? He’d probably be stunned that I’d do a thing like this.

  Not half as stunned as I was right now.

  I was terrified I wouldn’t make it in time. I was scared shitless about what would meet me at the other end, but I couldn’t even think about that. All I cared about was Joel. The only thing keeping my foot on the gas and my eyes on the road ahead was the thought of saving him from the mafia’s clutches.

  Thirty minutes passed, then forty-five, then an hour. The clock ticked over agonizingly slowly. “Come on, come on,” I muttered, as if the truck could magically eat up more blacktop on my command.

  When I passe
d Hope and the route got more complicated, I decided I needed my GPS.

  Where did my phone get to? I hadn’t seen it for a while, actually. I rummaged in my pockets. It wasn’t there. It wasn’t on any of the seats, either. Maybe I stuffed it in the suitcase? Those awful minutes as I’d left the ranch for the last time were a blur.

  I drove and drove, panic welling up in me. At the next gas station, I pulled off and reached behind me for the suitcase. I rummaged through it, but the phone wasn’t there. It wasn’t in the footwells or under the seats, either.

  Crap.

  I punched the steering wheel. I must have left it on the bed. How the hell could I have done that, when it was so damn important?

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. What if Anton had messaged me and changed the meeting point? The thought went through me like poison.

  I just had to get the airport, and hope for the best. He wasn’t going to change the meeting point. He wanted me there with my passport so he could abduct me—drag me off on a plane to Albania, or something.

  I jumped back into the truck.

  The clock on the dash said 15:41.

  Shit. I’d wasted nine valuable minutes.

  I hit the gas, and squealed out of the forecourt.

  As panic surged in me, I drove faster and faster, caught in a race against time.

  Chapter 15

  Joel

  I rode out across the plains for a long, long time. The sky had turned low and gloomy, threatening rain, and it suited my mood just fine. As if picking up on my emotions, Flinders was fractious, spooking at every little thing, his muscles tensed, and ready to bolt at any second.

  At last, I gave him his head, and he ran on and on. The only sound for miles around was the drumbeats of his hooves on the packed earth.

  Isabelle was gone. The thing I’d feared most ever since she’d come back into my life had happened. She’d only wanted me around because she needed my help. And now her inheritance was safe, she was gone. Back to the big city where she really belonged. I was just a cowhand, after all.

  Geez, what did I expect?

  I couldn’t blame her. I’d helped her out of my own free will, not expecting anything from her. And I’d do it again, a million times over. Even if she hated my guts from now on, she was worth it. And her safety was still the most important thing to me in the world.

  But loving her was a close second.

  I shouldn’t have let my feelings get all tangled up in this. Marrying her had been the right thing to do, but I’d known it was risky as hell. Who takes someone as their wife without opening his heart that little bit more?

  Hell, the second I’d put the ring on her finger, my heart had opened, and feelings burst forth in a flood. I’d been trying to pretend to myself that everything was fine. That I’d gotten everything under control. I was just going to keep her safe, even tame her a little, then one day, she’d move on to better things.

  But I’d been full of shit. From the second I saw her on stage at the club, I’d known it was my destiny to be with her.

  It just seemed like it wasn’t her destiny to be with me. A lonely rancher living out in the middle of nowhere, and she, with all her star quality. She could do anything she put her mind to. Why would she ever consent to becoming a rancher’s wife? The whole thing was ridiculous. I’d been having these little daydreams—which I felt like a loser even acknowledging to myself. That maybe she could set up some business here. We could open to guests again, and maybe she could run a dance school. It could be a real quirky enterprise—half horseback riding, half dance. Or maybe, after the way she’d taken to horseback riding, she’d want to give lessons, maybe in something pretty, like dressage. I’d even thought she could work in Vancouver a couple of days a week; satisfy her passion for city life.

  It had all been so dumb.

  All she’d needed was rescuing. Setting back on her feet. Healing a little. Then she’d spread her wings, and the games we’d played together would be nothing more than a fond memory. Good old Joel, with his heavy hand and kind heart.

  And there was nothing wrong with that. I just wished the thought didn’t tear me apart like a lightning strike.

  Flinders was breathing hard and drenched in sweat by the time we clattered into the yard again. Silence seemed to echo from under his hooves. The ranch house looked lonelier than ever. She was gone—I felt it deep in my soul, as sure as an instinct.

  I’d told her to go. And she would have taken me at my word.

  But what if… What if she hadn’t gone? What if she’d decided to wait and speak to me one last time?

  My pulse quickened. I pulled off Flinders’s bridle and saddle, and let him loose in the field, and started to run. I went faster and faster, and by the time I hit the porch steps, I was going full pelt.

  “Isabelle?” The bedroom door was closed. She only left it closed when she was sleeping. Maybe she’d been exhausted, and decided to take a nap first.

  Hope charging in my veins, I grabbed the handle and tore the door open.

  My world crashed down on me all over again. She wasn’t there. The room mocked me with its emptiness. I tore open the closet. Her suitcase and her most of her stuff was gone. I sank down on the bed, staring at the few items that were still hanging there.

  She was gone.

  But her new red dress was still there. I pulled it off and held it to my face, hoping to pick up her scent. It was freshly laundered, but it seemed to hold a suggestion of her curves. I pressed it against my chest, remembering the way her breasts had filled it out so provocatively. She’d loved this dress—been so touched that I’d bought it for her.

  Maybe she just needed a break, I told myself over and over. She’d said just a few days.

  But something told me she wasn’t coming back, and I was so sad, my stomach hurt. I should have known it was too easy. I’d been so focused on getting the mafia off her back and speaking to the cops that I hadn’t considered that one day she’d up and leave—leaving me in pieces.

  A heaviness like nothing I’d felt before came over me. I pulled off my hat and lay down on the bed, pressing my face to the pillow. As I picked up a hint of her sweet, lemony scent, my heart lifted, then shattered all over again.

  Isabelle.

  Her name echoed around my brain endlessly. She’d always been the only girl for me. The fact that Trey, in all his goofiness, remembered me talking about her said a lot. I must have talked about nothing else. And when she came back, I’d hoped I’d get a second chance at things. But it looked like I’d blown it.

  She hadn’t left the dress because she was coming back—she’d left it because it was a reminder of me that she didn’t want. I balled the stupid thing up, and hurled it across the room.

  I stared at the ceiling. Every crack in its surface seemed to suggest her somehow.

  Buzz…

  My eyes flew open. What was that? I’d fallen into kind of a doze. I blinked until I could see straight again. Something in my dream.

  Buzz…

  No, it was still going. I got up off the bed and looked around. On the floor? I squatted down, and ran my hand under the bed. There it was. A phone. Isabelle’s. I pulled it out. She’d forgotten it. My heart lurched with adrenaline. She’d come back for it, then.

  Unless she was showing me that she didn’t want me to have any way of contacting her.

  There was a new message. Automatically, I swiped to open it:

  Cant wait to see you baby girl. We gonna be so happy together <3 <3 <3

  I frowned. The message was from her roommate. I remembered the drugged-up, spaced-out girl who’d stood in the doorway of Isabelle’s apartment.

  It didn’t make a whole lot of sense, unless… unless someone else had her phone.

  Someone like a vicious mafia thug.

  Frantically, I scrolled through the previous messages. As I read one after another, my gut tightened even more. She’d left hours ago. Gone to meet that scumbag with the nasty beard. To save me. She’d given
up her whole life to protect me. And this whole time, I’d thought she didn’t care about me.

  What the fuck were they planning to do with her?

  I looked at the timescale. She would have met him already.

  I bolted off the bed, and ran for my own phone.

  Chapter 16

  Isabelle

  On the outskirts of Vancouver, I hit congestion. All four lanes were barely moving. I reached for my phone to check for alerts.

  It wasn’t there, of course. Stupid.

  Crap. Crap. Crap.

  I still had an hour before I was supposed to meet Anton. That should be enough time. Four hours. That took me to 17:15, right?

  Suddenly, I didn’t trust my memory. I’d been in such a panic when he was messaging me. What if I’m late already? I kept inching forward, until the hazard alert went off on Joel’s truck. I was about to smash into the car in front. I hit the brake. Fuck. I had to get a hold of myself.

  There was enough time. 17:15. That was the time I’d had fixed my head ever since I’d driven out of the ranch.

  Traffic on the left-hand side of the highway whizzed by, like it was mocking me. I stared at it wildly, hoping for some clues. Was there an accident ahead? Was traffic always like this going into Vancouver? It didn’t seem likely on these quiet roads.

  Wait—the radio.

  I’d been driving in silence the whole time, too wired to think about entertaining myself with music. I switched it on, and fiddled with the dial. I’d never gotten into radio; barely knew how it worked. There—a woman talking in a serious voice. Okay, news…

  “Five-vehicle pileup, caused by a heavy-duty vehicle—”

  Blood roared in my ears, and my vision went blank. A heavy-duty vehicle, causing yet another accident. Claiming yet more lives. Again, that terrible screech of metal on metal filled my ears. Metal crushing tender human flesh. All the people I loved destroyed. Those nightmares that haunted me every night since the accident. Those dark, dark thoughts that plagued me during the day. Whether any of my family members had suffered. The cops had told me they died instantly. But maybe that was what they told people so they didn’t go mad with grief.