The Wicked Horse Boxed Set (+Wicked Bond [5])

by Sawyer Bennett

  Even when things were at their darkest for me, you ended up being my one shining light in this debacle. Ultimately, no matter what my employer wanted me to do, I realized I just couldn't hurt you. I couldn't hurt Callie. My job simply wasn't that important. It was my hope I could get them to back off, but I was fully prepared to quit if that didn't work. In fact, the purpose of me writing this letter is so you know that when you finally find out the truth about me, my intent at the end was to do whatever was necessary to protect you, Callie, Bridger, and the club. If you're reading this letter, it means the magazine is not accepting my inability to manufacture a story, and I'm going to have to quit.

  Once that happens, I'm going to have to go home to Tennessee.

  I really hope it doesn't come to that, but if you are reading this letter, it means I couldn't save everything. Just the things that mattered most.

  I wish you so much joy and happiness in life. My heart will be forever broken over losing you, but I hope to God that you find a way to make peace with this and move on. I care about you so much, Cain, and it kills me to know how much you're going to be hurt by this. I only hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me and ultimately find someone who is good to you.

  Love,

  Sloane

  I set the letter down and stare at it. My fingers curl around the beer bottle, and I grip it tight. I'm not sure how I feel about what she's said. I do have to admit, it seems like her intent for the most part was to protect Callie, the club, and me. I'm not sure why she couldn't just tell me what was going on, but it doesn't seem she was out to hurt us.

  It also seems that maybe she did have feelings for me.

  If only I could truly, deep down, believe that.

  Chapter 28

  Sloane

  I wonder if there will ever come a time that I'll see Cain for the first time in any given day, and not have my entire body just sigh with pleasure over the magnificence of this man.

  He opens the door to The Wicked Horse and strides in with confidence. I pause my efforts in wiping the bar down and admire the tight fit of his black BDU pants and the t-shirt that proudly proclaims him as head of security. He's recently had a haircut but he didn't shave tonight, and I remember with yearning the feel of that scratchy beard against my legs.

  Cain didn't stay away from The Wicked Horse long. Only a day, as a matter of fact. Bridger had told me the first night I worked that Cain demanded I be fired, and that he wouldn't work here with me. I was stunned when Bridger told me that he sent Cain home, but he didn't seem surprised when he came in to work the next evening.

  And as he's done every night for the past three nights, his eyes sweep the interior until he's confident he knows where every single person is. He always saves the bar for last, because he knows I'm there.

  He always glares at me, as he does now. His brows furrow inward and his eyes narrow, the expression fierce and his scar looking angry. Then his gaze moves on, and he barely looks at me again for the rest of the evening.

  Hell, last night, he stood five feet from me while a customer leaned over the bar and tried to grab my boob. One of the other bouncers across the room saw it and moved in to take action. When I cut my gaze over to Cain, he just stared at me a moment with hard eyes and turned his back on me, clearly giving me the message he didn't even care enough about me to do his job.

  Cain walks down the length of the bar, nodding at a few other patrons, and disappears in the back kitchen area. That's also been his pattern the last three nights, as he routinely shows up at work at least ten minutes early and then hides from me until his shift starts. With a sigh, I finish wiping down the bar and check with the existing customers to see if they need refills. It's early yet and only three people sit at the main bar, but in about an hour, it will start to fill up.

  "That is one sexy ass man," Tina says behind me. She's new here too, although she's been here a few weeks longer than I have. Her eyes stay pinned on the door that Cain just went through. "I wonder what it would take to catch his attention."

  "Punch a guy in the face," I mutter under my breath.

  "What?"

  "Nothing," I say with a smile. "I think he's gay. At least that's the rumor I heard."

  Tina's face falls with disappointment, but then her eyes flick over my shoulder and light back up. "Or what about him? I've heard rumors from some of the other waitresses that he's a beast."

  I turn around and see Bridger walking out of his office. Yeah... he's a beast alright, but I'm not going to let her know. Besides, I have a feeling that the only ones who get to play with Bridger are the ones he chooses and not vice versa.

  He walks to the end of the bar and jerks his chin at me, indicating he wants a word. Tina sighs loudly and I leave her behind, making my way down to him.

  "What's up?" I ask him.

  "Just checking in to see how things are going," he says as he leans both elbows on the bar. "Haven't had a chance to talk since you started."

  "I'm really enjoying the work," I tell him honestly. "Thanks again for the job."

  "Yeah, no problem," he says with a wave of his hand. "But I was talking about Cain."

  I look at the swing-through kitchen door over my shoulder and sigh. "Well... it seems he glared at me for maybe two seconds less than yesterday, so that's improvement, right?"

  Bridger cocks an eyebrow at me. "Well... what does he have to say?"

  "Say?"

  "Yeah... you've talked to him, right?"

  "No," I say, blinking at him stupidly. "He doesn't want to talk to me."

  "Well, no shit, Sherlock. You're going to have to press the issue with him. He's not just going to wake up and everything will be fine."

  I don't like his pissy attitude, especially since this has been tough on me. Watching the man who has my heart in a chokehold look at me with nothing but distaste, living in a strange place with no friends, and worrying myself sick about what hell my actions will bring down on my mom is hard. Not a day goes by that I don't consider packing it up and heading home to Tennessee.

  It's what my mom would like even if she doesn't come right out and say so. I told her pretty much what had happened as I had to prepare her for the article if Brant chooses to run it. So far, he hasn't, but I'm just waiting for it to hit any day now. And I really should be home with her if that happens.

  But I also told my mom about Cain and my feelings for him, and she's been supportive of me staying here a bit to see if I can make amends.

  "When am I supposed to have this big talk with him?" I sarcastically ask Bridger. "It's not like this place is conducive to a serious talk, and I'm pretty sure he'll shoot me if I come on his property."

  "It's pretty quiet in here right now," Bridger says while giving me a pointed look.

  "Right now?"

  "Do I need to repeat it?"

  "But I'm working," I say.

  "Then take a fucking break, Sloane. It's not rocket science."

  I roll my eyes and say, "At the risk of getting fired, you are one complicated man."

  "Lucky for you, I'm a fucking romantic at heart."

  "Yeah... you are no more a romantic than my ex-boyfriend who thought the act of bringing me a six-pack before a date would earn him brownie points, but I appreciate your zeal for others to find happiness."

  Bridger just cocks an eyebrow at me.

  "Fine," I say as I throw the towel on the counter below the bar. "I'll take a break. But if I'm not back in ten minutes, you better send a posse out to dig for my body."

  "Good girl," he murmurs and pushes away from the bar to head back to his office, but not before giving a jerk of his chin toward Tina. Apparently, he's decided to play with her, and since there are two other bartenders to watch over things, Tina scurries out from behind the countertop and follows him back to his office.

  Taking a deep breath, I head for the kitchen.

  When I walk through the swinging door, my gaze sweeps the room for Cain. I don't see him and ask Frank, one of the
cooks, "Seen Cain around?"

  "Went out the side door a few minutes ago," he says, nodding his head toward the emergency exit.

  I square my shoulders and head that way.

  As soon as I push the door open, the cool August air hits me and I cross my arms to ward off the chill. August evenings in Tennessee are warm and humid, but it gets chilly here at this time of year.

  My head immediately swivels to the right where I see Cain leaning up against the wall, looking at something on his phone. His head snaps up with a semi-friendly expression, but when he sees it's me, his lips flatten out.

  "What do you want?" he mutters.

  "To talk to you," I say.

  "Don't want to hear anything you have to say," he retorts.

  "Well, tough shit. Man up and put your listening ears on."

  Cain pushes off the wall and takes a step to move past me, so I blurt out, "I saw your mom today."

  Cain stops, straightens to his full height, and squares his shoulders at me. "What?"

  "I saw your mom. Went in for a manicure. While I couldn't tell her details, I told her that I hurt you and I was very sorry for it. I apologized for hurting her son."

  He stares at me with his mouth slightly agape, gives a small shake of his head, and goes to move past me. So I tell him, "You walk away from me, I'll just follow you through the bar and continue to talk. Then everyone will know our business."

  Spinning on me, he growls, "You and I have no business together. You are nothing but a bad memory."

  Okay, that really hurts, and I involuntarily rub my knuckles across my sternum to alleviate the ache. "Okay... I deserve that. But I also deserve to have you hear me out."

  "You don't deserve it."

  "Callie, Bridger, Woolf, and your mom seemed to think I did."

  Cain snorts. "Just because they did doesn't mean I'm stupid."

  "Come on, Cain," I plead with him. "You owe me."

  "Why would you think that?" he asks incredulously.

  "Because I sacrificed a lot for you," I snap at him.

  "You sacrificed for me?" he scoffs.

  "Yes," I say firmly. "I put my family at risk, and I lost a good job because of you. In the end, I gave up everything for you and Callie. The least you can do is listen to what I have to say."

  For a fraction of a second, I think he's going to roll his eyes and stomp past me, but then he crosses his arms over his chest and watches me with silent but skeptical eyes. It's enough of a reprieve that I take a quick breath and push forward while I have his attention.

  "I'm really sorry for what I did. My intentions were never to hurt anyone--only to gain the truth. But once I found out there wasn't a truth, I realized I had to do the right thing. From very early on, I was constantly trying to figure a way out that would protect everyone."

  "Your letter said that," he says flatly and takes a step toward the door. "Anything else?"

  "Yes," I whisper. "I really care for you. I miss you."

  His eyes flicker back and forth between my own, and I can tell he's actually considering my words. But then his irises lighten to a cool green, and he dismisses me while reaching for the door. "Wish I could say the same."

  The stab that pierces my heart this time brings a prickle of tears to my eyes. He takes notice of the sheen, locks his jaw tight, and turns away from me as he pulls the door open.

  "I'm not giving up," I desperately tell his retreating back. "I'm sticking around until you forgive me."

  He doesn't respond, and the door closes in my face. I wait a few minutes, blinking my eyes to dry them. Sucking in a quavering breath, I let it out slowly. That so did not go how I'd hoped, and went worse than I could have imagined. The futility of trying to chip through the concrete surrounding his heart hits me hard, exhaustion permeating my very core.

  With fatigue of the soul threatening an impending breakdown, I walk back into the kitchen, back through the service door, and hang a left toward Bridger's office. I'm just... done.

  Cain is nowhere to be seen, but that's not important. I tried, and I failed, and it's time to cut loose Jackson, Wyoming.

  Just as I reach Bridger's office door, it opens and Tina walks out with a glazed look in her eyes, dabbing at the corners of her mouth. I see Bridger just behind her fastening his buckle. His eyes lock on mine, and he gives me a mischievous grin.

  I stand to the side and let Tina pass, then look back to Bridger for permission to come in. He gives me a smile and heads behind his desk.

  "That was fast," he observes, noting my conversation with Cain lasted no more than ten minutes.

  "You too," I throw back at him.

  "What can I say... Tina's got a mouth on her."

  I roll my eyes, because I do not need to imagine Bridger getting a quick blow job from my co-worker. I most certainly don't feel like listening to her talk about it tonight.

  "So what happened?" he asks as he kicks his feet on top of his desk.

  "I apologized, told him I cared about him. He told me he didn't feel the same."

  "Ouch," Bridger says as he winces.

  "Yeah... and I'm tired of my heart hurting over him, so I'm cutting my losses and heading home. I'll continue to work until you can find a replacement for me."

  Bridger waves a dismissive hand. "I could replace you in ten minutes if I needed, but you're not leaving yet."

  "Yes, I am, Bridger," I say tiredly, my voice cracking. "It's no use. He's not going to forgive me, and even if he did, he's never going to look at me the same. I've ruined it, and there's no redemption for me."

  "Well, you're clearly not seeing what I'm seeing," he says with a knowing look.

  I roll my eyes, refusing to believe that the all-knowing, all-seeing Bridger has something for me to pin my hope on.

  "That man can't take his eyes off you these last few nights."

  "He never looks at me," I argue.

  "When you're busy and your attention isn't on him, he's watching you like a hawk. And his gaze is hungry and regretful and wistful. Trust me, I know."

  I shake my head in denial. "Then figure a way for him to get over this. Because clearly, my words aren't doing anything."

  "Something more than words is needed," Bridger ponders as he flips his feet off the desk and opens a side drawer. He rifles through a folder and pulls out a single sheet of paper. "I offer to certain employees a silver membership to The Silo. I'm giving you one now, and you'll need to sign this non-disclosure agreement."

  "What?" I ask in disbelief. "I don't want a membership there."

  "Yes, you do," he says firmly. "Cain needs something to prompt him to action, and seeing you in there will work. Trust me."

  "You want me to go there and have sex with someone else?" I ask in astonishment.

  "No, darling," he replies in a dry voice and as if I said something completely stupid. "You just need to act like that's what you're going to do."

  "Trick him?" I ask dubiously.

  "Prompt him," he counter argues.

  "It won't work." But God... what if it does? What if that's just what's needed? A faint glimmer of hope flares within me, and I take a step toward his desk as he hands out a pen for me to sign the document.

  I take it from him, bend over the desk, and start to read the agreement. But then I raise my eyes to Bridger's and whisper, "Has he been... you know... to The Silo since we broke up?"

  Bridger's eyes go soft with sympathy, and he gives me an assured smile. "No. Only to walk through on his normal shifts here each night. He didn't even ask to take the rape fantasy with Amy back."

  I let out a huge gust of relieved air and hastily scribble my name to the document without reading it. I don't need to know what it says, as I'd never reveal the club to anyone. Not even at the risk of my mother.

  "Alright," he says with a devious grin. "Operation Slap Cain Upside the Head will commence tomorrow evening. Take the night off and be at The Silo at ten PM. I'll meet you there to give you the security fob to get you in."

&n
bsp; "Okay," I say shakily. I can do this. I know I can.

  "And Sloane," Bridger says ominously.

  "Yeah?"

  "Dress in your sexiest outfit. Preferably no underwear. You're going to need everything in your arsenal to get this hardheaded cuss to bend."

  I grin at him in wicked delight. "That, I can do."

  Chapter 29

  Cain

  Taking a deep breath, I pull the door open to The Wicked Horse. I steel myself for the fourth night in a row that I'll have to watch Sloane all night, wondering what could have been and how I could have been so easily fooled. I would think my decision to keep my walls up would make it easier, but it isn't. Every night that I can catch the smallest of glimpses of her behind the bar tears my insides up. I want her so fucking bad on a physical level that I'm constantly walking around with a half-hard dick. I've jacked off several times, all to her memory... almost swearing I can smell her shampoo when I come all over my hand.

  When I'm not obsessing about having sex with her, I'm replaying every single moment we spent together.

  Every conversation, trying to see what I was missing.

  Every touch she put upon me to try to figure out if there was truth or facade in the action.

  It's driving me fucking bonkers.

  Callie is also driving me fucking bonkers.

  She called me last night, wanting to check in and see how I was doing. My voice was flat when I told her I was fine. She said, "Bullshit," and then proceeded to lay into me for not giving Sloane a chance. I listened to her for about thirty seconds, and then I hung up. She called me back, but I ignored her.

  She then sent me a single text that said, Asshole.

  Yup... that's me.

  My eyes sweep the interior of The Wicked Horse, and with a sense of excitement that I actually hate about myself, I look to the bar to take in the beauty of Sloane Preston.

  Except she's not there.

  I swivel my head back and forth, checking out the club again, but I don't see her. Walking up to the bar, I tap my hand on the counter and ask the other new bartender, Tina, "Where's Sloane?"