Chapter 3

Scarlett POV:

The sight of Jax on his knees for Daisy-Mae was a physical blow. A hot, angry pain flared in my chest, and I spurred my horse, galloping away from them, away from the lie my life had become.

I pushed my stallion, Midnight, faster and faster, urging him over the practice jumps. The wind whipped tears from my eyes. Maybe if I rode hard enough, I could outrun the hurt.

We approached the highest hurdle. I leaned forward, ready for the familiar weightless moment of the jump.

But instead of soaring, there was a sickening snap.

The saddle strap gave way. The world tilted violently, and I was thrown, hitting the hard-packed earth with a force that knocked the breath from my body. Pain, white-hot and blinding, shot up my leg.

Midnight, panicked, reared up, his hooves thrashing the air just inches from my head.

My protector, my guardian, the man who was always supposed to be watching my back, was a hundred yards away, his attention still fixed on Daisy-Mae. He hadn't even noticed.

"Jax!" I screamed, my voice raw with terror and pain.

His head finally snapped in my direction. He moved then, a blur of motion, grabbing Midnight's reins and wrestling the terrified animal under control.

The next few hours were a haze of agony. My leg was broken. In the ranch infirmary, as the doctor set the bone, Jax stayed by my side. He was quiet, his face grim. When the doctor left, he took over my care with a meticulous attention that was almost suffocating. He fluffed my pillows, brought me water, and sat by my bed, watching me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

A foolish, treacherous part of me wanted to believe it was concern. That seeing me hurt had finally woken him up. But I knew better. His love, if it ever existed, flowed in only one direction, and it wasn't towards me.

One night, unable to sleep, I hobbled on my crutches towards the small bathroom down the hall. The infirmary was quiet, the only light coming from a single lamp in the corridor. As I passed the open doorway of the supply closet, I heard voices. Jax's and Wyatt's.

"You took it too far this time, Jax," Wyatt said, his voice low. "A broken leg? Are you trying to kill her?"

My blood ran cold. I froze, pressing myself against the wall, hidden in the shadows.

Jax's reply was flat, devoid of emotion. "I just loosened the strap. I thought it would slip, scare her a little. Teach her a lesson for making Daisy-Mae cry. I never thought the whole damn thing would snap. It was a miscalculation."

A miscalculation.

Wyatt sighed. "And all this?" He gestured back towards my room. "The concerned fiancé act?"

"It's damage control," Jax said, his voice like ice. "I screwed up. Now I'm fixing it. It's my responsibility."

The crutches slipped from my numb fingers and clattered to the floor. The sound echoed in the silent hallway like a gunshot. Inside the closet, the voices stopped.

He had sabotaged my saddle. He had done this to me. On purpose. And his care wasn't love. It was payment for a debt.