“I didn’t bring you here for romance,” he growls. “Move away from her.”
Wyatt snarls, holding tighter to me.
Anger turns behind Tripp’s eyes. “I’m not asking,” he says, pulling a gun from his right hip.
Shit.
We’ll have a hell of a fight on our hands with a gun.
Grimly, I back away from Wyatt. That dark look on Tripp’s face fades as he nears my prison. The metal of my cell door screeches. The veins in his neck bulge in a way that tells me he’s losing it.
“You look angry,” I say.
“You think this is easy? Watching you with him.” Tripp’s shaking, his face as red-hot as his voice. “That was supposed to be my job. Taking care of you, that’s why I did this. So that we could be together without distractions. Without anyone keeping us apart.”
Tripp slams a hand against the cage, causing Wyatt and I both to jump. “And then you go and marry him.Him?”
I arch a brow. “You sound jealous.”
A muscle bounces in his jaw. “I’ve always been jealous of whoever has you.”
My stomach plummets when Tripp turns the gun on Wyatt.
“Don’t.” I ball my fists, vibrating with rage. Panic. “Don’t hurt him.”
“What if I do?” No inflection to Tripp’s voice. He jabs the barrel of the gun against the metal of the cage. Instead of flinching, Wyatt stares him down.
I bite back an angry remark. Anger won’t work here.
I think fast. I have to do this right. I can’t fuck it up. I have to get Tripp to forget about Wyatt and focus on us.
Us.
I can use that. To get Wyatt and I out of here.
Never once have I shied away from a bull, a bronco. The last thing I will do is cower to a man. Another man who only wants what isn’t his. Who wants to take. To hurt.
Fuck that. I win.
“If you do,” I say quietly. “I—I won’t like you anymore.”
Tripp’s face changes. “You like me?” He sounds dubious.
I scoff. “Of course. You’re an idiot for not seeing it.” I rove my gaze around the cage. “For stooping this low. Really, Tripp. I expected better.”
Both Wyatt and Tripp gawk at me.
I almost smirk. Tripp looks like a begging dog with his tongue out.
Tripp clears his throat. “I didn’t know.”
I school my face into innocent neutrality. “You never asked, did you?” I chuckle. “We never got to talk. Like really talk. Pappy was always around.”
“Yeah.” Tripp licks his lips. “That asshole.”
“He really fuckin’ was.” I smile. “An asshole.”
Tripp and I share a laugh. I try not to bristle as he steps into the cell. Wyatt’s ring on his finger sends a visceral reaction through my body. I want to throw up.
