Branded (Fall of Angels #1)(26)

What the hell?

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Leave,” he hisses, then he slams the door shut before I can say another word.

I knew they were racist … but I never expected him to say it out loud like that. Now I know why his sons are the way they are.

As I walk off, I kick a rock lying on the ground. It ricochets against a tree and hits me straight in the face.

“Ow!” I grab my cheeks. “Fuck, that hurt,” I mutter.

Someone laughs. As I take my hand off my face, Dixie’s smile makes me forget the pain instantly. She’s at the gate’s entrance to the property, just closing the door of her truck.

“Hey,” I say as she walks up to me.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“I dunno … thought we could hang out or something,” I say, trying to look casual, throwing my hand behind my head. However, I hit a tree branch instead, which makes her giggle even more. God, I feel like such an idiot sometimes.

But the smile quickly dissipates from her face. She’s staring at her house. When I turn my head, I spot her dad glaring at us through the window.

“Um … I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she says, licking her lips.

“You’re not afraid of your dad, are you?” I ask, raising a brow.

Her face turns completely sour. “Please don’t …”

Oh, I didn’t think it was that tough.

Well, shit. I made this whole conversation awkward as fuck.

“Sorry,” I say, rubbing my arm. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine. I just don’t …” She sighs. “Look, I wanna, but …” She throws another glance at the house.

I get it. She values her dad’s opinion, maybe more than she wants to let on, and that’s understandable. But I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me. Or anyone who looks like me, for that matter.

Does she know? Probably. It’d surprise me if she didn’t.

Is that why she doesn’t wanna hang out with me? Because of what her family would think of her? Would dating a Native American … the redskin … make her feel inferior?

“I get it,” I say, holding up my hand.

Disappointment oozes through my veins, poisoning my entire mood.

“Forget I asked,” I say, trying to walk off.

However, she trails me. “Brandon. Wait.”

“What?” I say, coming to a full stop and spinning on my heels. “You want me. Then you don’t want me. Which is it? Make up your mind.”

“I … it’s complicated,” she says, swallowing.

“It doesn’t have to be,” I reply.

“My family, they don’t—”

“I don’t care what your family thinks. I’m not dating them. I’m dating you. I care what you think,” I say courageously.

“Dating?” she scoffs, and she narrows her eyes.

“Well, I just assumed …” I mutter, shrugging.

I didn’t think she’d hang on that single word.

She puts her hand against her side. “Hmm … you assumed.”

“Sorry,” I say, breathing out a sigh. Then I turn and keep walking. “Never mind.”

“I don’t mind,” she says after a few seconds.

I stop in my tracks again. When I turn around, she adds, “If you call me your girlfriend.”

My heart just skipped a fucking beat.

Dammit, Dixie Burrell.

A smirk slowly forms on my lips. “You think?”

She crosses her arms. “As long as you don’t force me to call you my boyfriend.”

Well, it’s one half of the bargain, so I may be able to live with that. For now.

“You’re probably going to change your mind about that someday …” I say, wriggling my brows.

“Maybe … or maybe not. We’ll see,” she muses, nodding her head in a sassy way. However, when she glances over her shoulder again, she immediately stops smiling. “But not today, okay?”

I get it. She’s afraid of what they’ll think of her. She values her family’s opinion just as I value my papa’s. At least I did … once.

Now, I’m not sure what to think anymore.

All I know is that I don’t wanna be the outcast anymore.

I wanna be with her.

Dixie Burrell.

My girlfriend.

Well, secret girlfriend anyway.

We’ll work on the public part later.





Chapter Thirteen





Dixie



Present



As he paces around the room like a lion stuck in a cage, I wonder what’s on his mind.

Since I lowered his gun, he immediately withdrew into his own headspace again. It’s as if he couldn’t face the fact that he was unable to pull the trigger, which made me smile like a gleeful, vengeful little witch.

I admit it made me happy. Just a tiny fraction.

I’ve managed to make myself invulnerable in his eyes.

Even though we hate each other’s guts, he still cares about my life. He’ll never admit it out loud, not with our track record.

It’d be an insult to me and my family too.