Page 26 of Unhinged Obsession

“Geeze, I thought your temper was bad,” Blair says, and she’s actually giggling as she peeks out from behind me. Apparently my girl thinks unhinged is endearing. I just hope she keeps that in mind, because we’ve got a lot ahead of us with The Society, and I’m ready to burn the world to keep her as mine.

ELIJAH

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Blair nudges my arm as we make our way over to the bar. I look down at her cellphone and see the text from Noah saying that Paris has been discharged and Ben is back at the dorm. Blair and I lock eyes because, for as bad as it seemed with Paris, it’s odd she’d be out of the hospital already.

Caiden glances up from his beer, but he doesn't utter a word. The bull rider simply pushes away from the stool, grabs the bottle by its neck, and tips his chin toward an empty table tucked beside the mechanical bull. It's the closest thing to an invitation I think the man has ever given anyone.

The bull sits motionless for now, surrounded by a couple of frat boys waiting for someone to start it up. They look so out of place; at least Blair and I had the forethought to stop at a shop on the way up to buy some more fitting clothes. She’s in the fucking cutest pink sundress, and I bought her the brown cowboy boots she liked with the pink ribbons tied in a bow on the back. I refused the Pearl Snap the sales lady kept insisting on and settled for a Carhartt and the jeans Blair said would look nice on me.

One of the frat boys is arguing about how long they lasted the last time they rode, while another guy swears he can beat the record. They’re in for a world of hurt, I’m sure. Whoever runs the bull will most likely dump them on their asses as soon as possible.

I give Blair's hand one last squeeze before guiding her in front of me. My palm slides naturally to the curve of her waist, keeping her close as we weave through the crowd toward Caiden.

It's instinct for me, one that I failed to fight off most of the time, but tried for years. Now, she’s mine, fully mine, and I’m never fucking letting her out of my arms again.

As ridiculous as Hayden looks standing guard over the dance floor right now, I can't even pretend I wouldn't react the same way if somebody put their hands on Blair.

The music shifts before we reach Caiden’s table, the opening notes of another country song echoing through the speakers just as I pull out a chair for Blair, help her scoot in before I take the one next to her.

Suddenly a woman's voice cuts through the song, "Excuse me!"

The entire bar’s attention is directed toward the DJ booth I didn’t realize was on the other side of the mechanical bull. There’s obviously no live band, so the DJ booth makes sense.

A brunette has somehow stolen the microphone from the poor bastard running the music. The woman appears to be in her early twenties, and she’s sporting a grin bright enough to suggest she's either the entertainment or completely unhinged.

Does Hayden have a sister I don’t know about?

"I just wanted everyone to know," the woman announces sweetly, "that the next round of drinks is on my..." She pauses long enough to lift both hands, making exaggerated air quotes around the word husband. "...husband's tab."

A cheer erupts around the room, but I shake my head.

Poor bastard.

The DJ reaches for the microphone, placing both hands on her shoulders as though he's trying to gently steer her out of the booth before she bankrupts whatever cowboy was unlucky enough to enter into holy matrimony with her.

He doesn't get the chance to move her an inch.

Caiden is on his feet so fast his chair screeches across the floor and tips over.

"Get your fucking hands off MY WIFE," he growls, his voice carrying over every conversation around us. "Then get out of my bar before I crush your skull under my boots."

The DJ's hands disappear from her shoulders like they've been burned. He practically trips over himself trying to put distance between him and Caiden, who is still glaring at him. His hand is on his hip, resting on his pistol.

“Hey, you said no shooting assholes in the bar,” Hayden yells, clearly flabbergasted.

“I will kill you, Lockwood,” Caiden says so dryly to Hayden that the bar erupts in laughter, which gives the DJ time to vanish from sight.

I turn away from Hayden, who for some reason has another chair in his hands, raised above his head ready to throw at another cowboy, and stare at Caiden.

When the fuck did the most sought-after bull rider in Castlebrook Falls get married? And who is she?

Caiden’s wife leans over the railing of the booth just enough so she’s got his full undivided attention. "I'm not your wife, sweetheart," she says into the microphone. "I'm a hostage."

A slow smile spreads across Caiden's face like he’s enjoying every minute of her tantrum. He lifts his beer in her direction before blowing her a kiss. "I love you too, baby."

The brunette rolls her eyes hard enough that all I see for a second are the whites of her eyes before climbing out of the booth. Her long hair swings down her back as she disappears into the crowd, making a beeline for Madison and Lilac like she didn’t just go toe-to-toe with the most feared man on this God-forsaken mountain. I’ve never been more thankful that I didn’t grow up here. I know Blair took riding lessons somewhere on the mountain when she was younger because she wanted to be able to learn both English and Western disciplines. I can see by the look on her face that she’s glad she was only here for the riding experience.