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

by Sawyer Bennett

  Thanks a lot, Logan.

  Chapter 21

  Logan

  I sit in my truck and look at the entrance to The Silo. When I left Auralie last night at her cabin, I told myself that today was the day I got back on with living my life the way I should be living it.

  Reserved and solitary from everyone.

  It was the safest way for me to be able to live with myself.

  Of course, that meant I had to give up Auralie and all prospect of something good with her. She drew the line in the sand with me, and it was clear. If I wanted something with her, I had to open up all the way. I had to trust her the way I wanted her to trust me.

  And fuck that.

  Wasn't about to open up my carefully constructed walls that helped keep me protected and my sanity intact.

  So in order to get back on with my life and not look backward at what could have been with Auralie, I knew that meant hitting the Silo up tonight and getting my freak back on with whatever available pussy was there. I'd go in, choose someone quickly, fuck her good, and blow a nut. Then I'd be back right again.

  Except I've sat in this fucking truck for going on forty minutes now and haven't made a move to get out. Maybe I'm waiting for my dick to wake up and lead me in there. Perhaps I'm waiting for some sign from above that I'm making the right choice.

  I'm waiting and waiting, but nothing's happening.

  With a sigh, I pull my phone out and flip through Contacts until I find Rand's number. It's only ten PM so it's not too late to call.

  He answers on the third ring, sounding groggy. "What's up, man?"

  "Did I wake you up?" I ask hesitantly.

  "Nah," he says and coughs to clear his throat. "Just exhausted. What's going on?"

  "Just checking in. Saw Cat at The Silo last night, and you weren't with her. Making sure everything's okay."

  He's silent a moment and says, "No clue if anything's okay, but yeah... I knew she was there."

  "She didn't stay," I say quickly, so he knows she didn't fuck around on him.

  "I know," he says with a heavy sigh. "Bridger was keeping an eye on her for me and told me she left."

  "Dude... what's going on?"

  "I'm giving her a bit of space to try to figure out what she wants," he says in a tired voice. "I'm actually in Vegas right now. Tracked her mom down to see if I could get some info on her dad."

  I whistle low through my teeth. "And did you?"

  "Yeah. Flying out to North Carolina tomorrow."

  I digest this, thinking of the lengths Rand is going to for a woman who was sitting alone without him at a sex club last night. Granted, she didn't do anything, but she was there.

  Had to be considering it.

  My gaze goes to The Silo, because seems like I'm getting ready to do the same thing Cat was contemplating just last night. Perhaps making a decisive move to kill the final connection to someone?

  "Why was she in The Silo?" I ask, thinking maybe Rand has some sage advice on the subject of people who might want a relationship but think they can't handle it.

  "She needs to figure herself out," he says simply. "Figure out what she wants and what's most important to her. Most of all, she has to decide whether or not she thinks she's good enough for me, because she's got some fucked-up idea in her head that she's not."

  Yeah... I can totally understand that shit. Seems like Cat and I have something in common.

  Movement in the parking lot catches my attention. I narrow my eyes as Magnus pulls his Porsche into a spot nearer to The Silo than where I sit. He gets out, aims the key fob at the car door to lock it, and walks inside.

  "Listen," I say as I get out of my truck. "I've got to go, but dude... I hope that shit works out with you and Cat."

  "Thanks, Logan. Me too."

  I don't bother locking my truck as I say, "Later," and disconnect the call. Shoving my phone in my back pocket, I walk into The Silo, my nerves a jangled mess. I have absolutely no idea what I might find when I go inside. I haven't talked to Bridger all day, mainly because I'm afraid of what he might say to me. I'm pretty sure it would be something like, "Man, the fuck up".

  I also have no clue where Auralie is. Magnus just walked in alone, so I know she's not with him.

  Unless she's already in there, but no... no way is Bridger going to let that shit go down when he knows the virginity sale is a scam.

  Unease slithers through me as I consider the consequences to Auralie of what I've done. It's not the first time I've thought about the dangerous repercussions I laid on her doorstep without even bothering to clue her in on what I was planning to do. I'm not sure how she's going to wrangle out of this mess, and for the most part today, I stuck my head in the sand and just sort of hoped that Bridger would work something out for her.

  I'm a fucking coward in that respect, and I know it. But it was easier than dealing with my muddled feelings about what I had and what I subsequently lost because I refuse to open myself up fully to a woman.

  I walk into The Silo. As I come out of the short hall that leads to the interior, I see Magnus stalking toward Bridger, who's talking to a group of people outside the Black Room. Inside, a woman is on her hands and knees, taking it up the ass. She seems to be enjoying it by the sounds of her moans, which are having no problem permeating the glass wall because they're so loud.

  I follow Magnus as he approaches Bridger, so I'm close enough to hear him demand, "I need to speak to you, Mr. Payne."

  Bridger cuts a hard look at Magnus for his interruption, but he murmurs an apology to the group and steps toward Magnus. "What's up?"

  "Where's Auralie?" Magnus challenges with as much menace as his prissy ass can manage.

  "No clue," Bridger says with a shrug of his shoulders.

  "I flew in this evening and she's not at the cabin," Magnus says, and his voice is near panicked. "All of her clothes and personal items are still there though."

  "Did she tell you she was going somewhere?" Bridger asks nonchalantly.

  "I talked to her right before I got on my plane connection in Dallas," Magnus says. "She said she'd see me when I got here. She's not at the cabin so I came here, but I don't see her."

  Immediate dread fills me that, based on what Magnus is saying, Auralie seems to be missing. I'm not sure where I thought she would be, but again... that was part of me being an ostrich and sticking my head in the sand. But the fact that Magnus seems to be worried about her has me worried about her.

  Bridger shrugs. "Not sure what to tell you, Mr. Albright, but I haven't seen her since last night. But you did miss quite the show she put on. I'm interested to see the price of the bids that come in for her virginity once you open it up. I'm more than interested to see what you do tonight... provided she shows up, that is."

  I jerk, startled by Bridger's proclamation.

  He's going to let this farce go on?

  I had underestimated the lengths he'd go to so that Auralie remains protected. Really didn't think he'd give a damn to be honest.

  Magnus sighs, looking around the club as if Auralie will mysteriously appear. I do the same, scanning the interior... hoping for a glimpse of her so I know she's okay, and then I can tell her...

  What?

  What exactly would I fucking tell her?

  Bridger claps Magnus on the back. "Have a drink. Relax. I'm sure she'll show up. She's probably just making a grand entrance or something."

  Magnus looks disgruntled but nods in agreement before turning toward the bar.

  Bridger's gaze comes to me but then slides right past without any real acknowledgment before he starts to walk by me toward the exit of The Silo.

  "Where's Auralie?" I mutter as he strides past.

  "What's it to you?" he challenges with a quick glance over his shoulder at me, and then he continues on his path without falter.

  "Cut the shit," I growl as I turn to catch up to him. "You clearly know where she is. Magnus may have bought that crock you just handed him, but I don't."


  Bridger doesn't even look at me but walks right out of The Silo, with me following behind him. When the door closes behind us both, he says, "I repeat. What's it to you? Auralie said you left her last night--that things were over between you two."

  "They are," I mutter defensively, and fuck... why does that make me physically sick to my stomach to even say that? "But don't begrudge my worry about her."

  Bridger opens the back door to the Wicked Horse and steps through as he says in a bland voice. "I don't begrudge you anything, but why you waste effort on this woman is beyond me. She's a scammer. A con artist. Apparently a great fuck, but still... plenty of those around here."

  Rage strikes me in a hot, blistering wave and I lunge at Bridger from behind, both my hands slamming into his shoulder blades and knocking him forward. He's not expecting the attack, and he goes flying forward several feet before he catches himself.

  He spins on me, bracing for another attack, and I don't hesitate, snagging fistfuls of his t-shirt and spinning him toward the wall before slamming him back into it. His hands come up to grip onto my wrists, but he makes no effort to fight back at me or push me away.

  "You fucking asshole," I snarl as I put my face right into his. "You don't know shit about Auralie or the reasons she had to do what she had to do."

  "Then why don't you enlighten me?" Bridger taunts with a quirk of his lips, and I can tell my shoving him around amuses rather than intimidates. "Because I truly don't understand why it matters to you. You left her last night. Left her to fend for herself now that you ruined her game. So why the fuck does it even matter to you?"

  "Fuck you," I yell as I release him to turn away, my frustration boiling over because I don't know why it matters to me. I let her go last night.

  Or rather, I refused to stay and give her something she wanted.

  Was probably entitled to, actually.

  I look down the hallway toward the interior of The Wicked Horse just beyond. It's not overly packed, but then again, it's a Wednesday night. An ordinary night where I might be in there myself, drinking a beer and perusing potential fuckmates. Most likely, I wouldn't indulge because most women in there required work. Conversation, flirting, etc. If it wasn't an easy lay, I wasn't interested. So I'd usually head over to The Silo.

  That would be my ordinary Wednesday night in my ordinary life here in Wyoming. I was satisfied with that.

  Until a raven-haired beauty with innocent eyes but a fun and kinky side won me over, and I have no clue how it happened.

  Why we connected.

  Why I felt something with her I never felt for another woman.

  Fuck that... for another human being, except for...

  Nope. Not going to think about that.

  Except, fuck if I can stop thinking about Auralie and the way she's made me feel since I locked eyes on her. And I'm not talking about the way she makes my cock feel. I'm talking about the way we connect. The way we can speak silently but still deeply with each other. The natural feeling of ease in her presence. As if I don't have to prove myself, but she accepts me for who I am. Or the way she laughs, whether it's because she finds me funny or she's being mischievous. Or the way she lays in my arms. Or shrieks in excitement when she catches a fish. Or sucks my dick on a riverbank. Or just about fucking anything she does turns me on physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally...

  Christ, I'm fucked in the head.

  Mostly though... I can't stop thinking about what a survivor she is. To be raised the way she was, and, yet, she found her own moral compass to break away from that life. Granted, she was in the middle of a con when I met her, but she wasn't doing it for herself and she wasn't doing it for the almighty sin of greed. She was doing it to protect someone she loved, which made me respect her even more.

  Auralie's a woman who has given me every reason to hope for something better in this life. Yet, I'm still too afraid to reach out and grasp onto that with ambitious determination. I'm still hiding from the world because it's become easy for me to do so.

  But still... I have to make sure she's okay.

  I spin around to ask Bridger again where Auralie is because no matter the bullshit he just tried to hand me about having disdain for her, I could tell that was nothing more than him baiting me. Bridger works with ulterior motive most of the time, and I get what he's trying to do. He's telling me to shit or get off the pot.

  Not really ready to do either, but I need to know Auralie's safe.

  Except when I turn around, Bridger's gone, but his office door is standing wide open. I take this as a clear indication I'm invited in to continue this "discussion".

  I walk in, shutting the door behind me to close out the country music blaring in the club. Bridger's sitting at his desk, flipping through something on his iPhone. He doesn't even look up at me when I take a seat opposite him, but merely says, "She flew out around mid-morning to New York. Met with my buddy Cal and the federal prosecutor, woman named Dee Switzer, late this afternoon--east coast time, of course. Don't know anything more than that."

  My stomach clenches to know she's not here in Wyoming because I think I was hoping, deep down, that maybe there was a chance I'd get to see her again. Maybe to fight again--maybe to fuck. Maybe even to find a way to give her what she wanted without destroying myself in the process.

  It also clenches because now she's made her break from Magnus. The thing that's been bothering me the most about what I did is that I put the wheels in motion to force her to do something dangerous. To turn her and her father against a man who had the clear means to make people go poof. And I know one thing I would never survive is if I caused someone to be hurt or worse yet... killed.

  I cannot survive that again.

  There's no way.

  "How do you know this?" I ask neutrally, trying to act not all that interested, but I'm not fooling Bridger.

  I know I'm not fooling him because he cocks an eyebrow at me as he smirks, but then enlightens me without making me feel like too much of an idiot. "Because she came to me last night after you left her. She told me everything. All about her life as a grifter with her dad. How she wanted to break away and almost did, and how she was working this one last con to protect her dad."

  "She had no choice," I say in defense of her actions.

  Bridger raises his hand to wave me off. "I get it. Not mad at what she was trying to accomplish. I'd do the same thing if I were in her shoes. Which is why I pushed hard at her to take the offer by Cal to go to the authorities on this and put Magnus in prison. It's her best option."

  "Her only option after I ratted her out," I mutter, wondering why I feel such guilt over betraying her that way. I honestly was hoping to help, but I realize... I should have talked to her about it. For all my prattling on to her about wanting to help her out of her situation, after finally forcing her to let me in on her secret, I should have given her the respect of mutual discussion on how to best attack the problem. I acted like a fucking caveman, brought Bridger into this when really... maybe I should have let her finish the scam so she could be free.

  But it's too late to cry over that now. It's done.

  "Will the federal prosecutor help her? Protect her and her dad?" I ask hesitantly.

  "No clue," he says with a shrug. "Not my problem either. I helped her out best I could. I'm also going to do one more solid to her by putting Magnus off her trail a bit."

  "You had her leave all her possessions behind," I surmise. "So Magnus wouldn't know she ran."

  "It will hold him off maybe a day," Bridger says with a casual shrug. "But I'm guessing he's going to go after her come tomorrow."

  "What the fuck?" I snarl as I shoot up out of my chair. "You say that as if you don't give a fuck she could be in real danger."

  "I don't," he says, pinning me with a hard look. I feel my blood pressure skyrocketing at his further bait tactics. "She's not my problem."

  She's not mine either.

  Except... goddamn it all to hell. She is my problem.
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br />   But not really a problem.

  More of a miracle actually.

  And one I didn't anticipate I'd ever be worthy of, but the thought of that being snuffed out and taken away from me forever spurs me into action, even if I'm not quite accepting of the fact I deserve this.

  "You're an asshole, Bridger," I mutter as I turn away from the desk. I hear him snort behind me before he gives a bark of a laugh. I refuse to smile, but I grudgingly say, "Thanks for helping her out," as I walk out of his office.

  "Have a nice flight," he says, again taunting me, but I deserve it.

  I deserve every bit of shit he might choose to give me for my pigheadedness. I know I've had my head stuck up my ass, and I have to do something to remove it. But that's a secondary worry.

  For now, I have to get to New York and make sure Auralie is safe because I'm sure Magnus won't be far behind.

  Chapter 22

  Auralie

  "Did we do the right thing?" my father asks as he sits back in his recliner and sips on a beer.

  "No crawling out of the rabbit hole now," I murmur as I sit in the window seat, looking down at my Vinegar Hill neighborhood below. And I use the term window seat loosely. It's really just a window with a sill that's larger than average, about a foot wide, and I'm barely able to sit my ass on the splintered wood that's about fifteen years overdue for a re-paint.

  But the sun is shining and warm upon me as I rest my chin on my knees and try to shake myself out of my doldrums.

  "Magnus will be gunning for us hard," he says pensively, and my stomach knots up. That is an absolute fucking understatement.

  "We had no choice," I tell him, trying to sound confident, but I'm far from it. I have no clue if we're doing the right thing, but as I just said.

  No choice.

  Logan saw to that.

  And yet, I can't find it in myself to be really mad at him. When it boils down to its simplest form, there were actually three choices we had available to us when my father landed himself in hot water with Magnus.