by Lux Miller
Queenie blew a gasket and absolutely lost her head at me. She screamed and hollered some of the raunchiest things I’ve ever heard come out of a girl’s mouth. And hearing those things tumble from between Raven’s ruby-red lips was disarming to say the least. So disarming in fact, that Queenie managed to get me pinned to the ground and position her naked self on top of me before I could stop her.
Thank God I had on my clothes still, because I knew then and there that I was going to end up breaking my promise to Raven. If Queenie had her way, we’d end up having sex again, whether I wanted to or not. I know that sounds like a total cop-out, but Queenie looks identical to Raven, and I won’t deny that I have the hots for Raven. It’s a lot to convince my mind that they’re not mutually exclusive. Queenie was going to have her way no matter what. And she had the upper hand, until a miracle thundered by in a flash of black.
Thankfully, we weren’t very far from the barn, and I was able to usher Queenie inside and get some clothes back on her before Ashley showed up to the barn, asking me why the black mare’s stall was open. Of course, when I mentioned that her new boy toy must’ve taken Liberty out for a ride, Ashley panicked and jumped on her own horse, Fiona, to try to stop him. It offered enough of a distraction for me to escape from Queenie’s clutches, and by the time I made my way inside the barn, Raven had passed out in the hay, surrounded by the miniatures who stood guard around her tiny frame.
Now, I’m no Prince Charming, but the miniatures did let me into their circle to fetch Raven. I carried her up to the house and put her in her bed, making sure that she had no reason to believe that we’d done anything nefarious. Then I stood sentinel outside her door to make sure that Ashley’s boyfriend (fuck buddy, whatever he is) didn’t barge into her room or something. It took hours for Raven to wake up, but thankfully she was herself when she did, and after I reassured her that we hadn’t done anything but kiss, she let down her guard just a bit.
It’s heartbreaking to watch someone you’ve come to care about struggle with addiction. I don’t exactly blame her for being desperate for relief, but at the rate she’s going, she spends half her time passed out due to the side effects of the candy, and half the time she’s awake, she’s battling her inner demons on a very public front. I’ve been able to mask Raven’s issues from Ms. Bianchi so far, but I don’t know how much longer I can continue to do it. It’s not that I’d abandon my post as her faithful protector, but I don’t know if Ms. Bianchi is going to buy my story much longer. We have to find something else to give Raven some relief.
The glass apple candy seems innocuous enough, but I researched it one of the times I stood outside her door like a guard dog. It’s actually quite dangerous. The nutmeg that gives Raven the same euphoric high that masks the pain, is toxic. And a lethal dose isn’t even that big. I was shocked to find out that a couple teaspoons can kill a grown man - and Raven’s tiny compared to me. I’m certainly in no place to judge her. I know her headaches are soul-crushing, but there has to be another way. If I have to make the excuse that we’re going out to the woods to collect apples for baking pies one more time, I’m afraid Ms. Bianchi is going to get her brother to put someone on my tail.
And if she finds out that I’ve been helping Raven create the candies out in the woods, we can both kiss our jobs goodbye. No ranch owner is going to take kindly to her ranch hands manufacturing drugs on her property. Even if the ingredients are perfectly legal, the product we’re making from them is questionable at best when it comes down it. It’s not against the law to make it, but it’s probably against every code of ethics there is.
The truth is, despite the looming danger of dealing with Queenie, I have no regrets. And yes, she’s dangerous! Not only has she tried to fuck me numerous times, but when she doesn’t get her way, she starts to make suggestions that are borderline maniacal. Given the right circumstances, I have no doubts that Queenie could become homicidal.
And despite my better judgement, I’ve started to notice that my stomach flip-flops when Raven looks at me a certain way. Never when she’s lost in her mind, but when she’s fully herself and enjoying life. The moments where the pain doesn’t plague her - those are magical. Her smile is brilliant when it’s naturally playful. Her laugh is a sweet sound that, despite the lack of sexual tension between us now that I know it’s all Queenie who wants to fuck me, sends shockwaves straight to my dick. I don’t act on it, but all Raven would have to do is say the word and she’d own me.
And not because she has a hot, little body. Which she does, I’m not saying she doesn’t. But Raven possesses this inner beauty that coexists with her outer beauty in a way that could make a man crave her. It’s what Queenie is betting on, and I’ve noticed over the last couple of days, that she’s been incredibly better behaved when Queenie is in control than in weeks past. She’s not trying to force me into sleeping with her so much as she’s trying to convince me it’s something I want to do. And I would in a heartbeat, but only with Raven. And until I can be positively certain I can distinguish between them, I refuse to put myself in the situation of possibly betraying Raven’s trust.
But it doesn’t make life around her any easier. Something about the girl has utterly intrigued me, and I know that her birthday is tomorrow. Her sister and Blake, plus the cute little troublemaker Gwen, are coming up for a couple of weeks to stay at the ranch and enjoy the holidays with Ms. Bianchi. She is nearly beside herself to have at least two of her three children back on the ranch where they were raised.
I’m absolutely worried for Raven. With her headaches coming every other day if she’s lucky, I don’t see how she’s going to continue to hide her habit from her sister. And I know that there’s no way I’ll be able to help her hide Queenie . Things are going to end up explosive over the holidays if we’re not careful, and I’m not talking about New Year’s fireworks.
My head pops up from my worn hardcover book as I hear stirring coming from Raven’s bed. At least I hope it’s her. I’ve had quite enough of Queenie’s antics today. If it hadn’t been for that starstruck lover of Ashley’s barging into our lives, Queenie may have gotten her way today. And that is one of my worst fears right now. I don’t want to give it to her again. That’s not saying I don’t want to be with Raven, because I do. There’s something inexplicable that draws me to her, but until we can subdue Queenie for good, I’m not letting my mind near the idea of pursuing anything with Raven.
Raven groans as she brings her arm up over her face, “Magic Mirror on the wall, forget who’s the fairest of them all…just turn off the lights...”
The hair on the back of my neck bristles. Is she still suffering? I start to stand, but she waves her hand, “Hunter, don’t… it’s a rebound headache. More annoying than painful, but they make me kinda dizzy. The lights don’t help, but I don’t expect you to go flipping off the lights when you’re obviously reading.”
I hold the book up dumbly. “This old thing? The words are starting to fade from the pages. I’ve read this book cover to cover enough times that I can recite it, not that you’d want me droning on and on..”
Raven moves her arm and gives me a look, “Hunter. Once a little girl, always a little girl. And little girls never tire of hearing about handsome princes who whisk girls away to happily ever after…”
I chuckle and set the book on the floor, looking at her seriously but she takes an unexpected turn in her recollection that’s straight from the heavy tome. “In that version, Snow White is seven when she marries the prince. The evil queen dances herself to death, and the prince didn’t even save Snow White! The dwarfs were just clumsy and dropped her, which dislodged the piece of poisoned apple from her throat. It’s less like a fairy tale and more like a warning…”
I raise one eyebrow at her eerily accurate version of events. She laughs and points at the book. “My mom was a high school English teacher. My sister and I were raised on the classics and, despite half the world’s belief, the Disney version of Snow White is nowhere near the o
riginal tale. There’s a reason the word ‘Grimm’ became associated with darkness… and the Brothers Grimm are that reason…”
Everything in my body tenses as she talks about the classic literature like she knows it. Like she’s studied it. I get lost in my thoughts until I feel her hands on mine. I blink rapidly as I find myself staring at her.
She smiles and pats my hands as she kneels down in front of me. “Hey, just because most people think Snow White is a children’s story, doesn’t mean that I can’t still remember fondly my mother reading it to us when we were little girls. It may reek of darkness, but I’m not exactly a bowl full of sunshine myself. For obvious reasons, I can identify both with Snow White and with the Evil Queen.”
I laugh, exhaling slowly as I try to force down the nerves bubbling in my gut. Raven smiles and walks back over to her bed, then to my surprise, she pats it beside her. “Would you mind reading it to me? It surprisingly sets my inner turmoil at ease…to hear about the good guys winning and happily ever afters… even if they’re dark and the people who get them rarely deserve them...”
I nod and jump up out of the chair, kicking off my boots before settling on the bed beside her. She sighs softly and burrows herself into the blanket, then looks up at me expectantly. I smile down at her. In this moment, the beat my heart skips has nothing to do with how much I want to be with her, and nothing do with how beautiful she is, but everything to do with my desire to save her. Even if it means going down to the darkness of my own soul that I swore would never see daylight. Despite knowing there’s a good chance I’ll fail to save her, something compels me to try.
It doesn’t take long before the space between us diminishes, and Raven is curled up at my side, nestled along my body like a lover after sex. But tonight, we’ve done nothing more than share a room and a desire to overcome the evil that bubbles just beneath the surface of Raven’s mind. She sighs softly as she rests her head on my chest, and by habit, I adjust the book around her so that I can keep reading while also holding her close. Whether I signed up for the job or not, I’ve been tasked to protect her from the one enemy she can’t defend against - herself...
FIFTEEN
Raven
Waking up in the arms of a man would normally put me into panic mode as I try to figure out what I’ve done and with whom. But waking up entangled with Hunter has the exact opposite effect on me. Maybe it’s his familiar scent that is infiltrating my nostrils. Maybe it’s because I fell asleep there, fully aware of what was going on. I wasn’t under her control. I can tell she’s been here today, though. The initial look that Hunter gave me said it all. That Queenie had come out to play and that she didn’t follow the rules. She never does, though. She doesn’t play nice, so it’s no surprise that Hunter was on edge last night when I awoke from my poisoned sleep.
But as soon as I asked him to read me the original story of Snow White from his huge hard backed book, all of his anxiety seemed to vanish. Instead of bolstering his guard for the onslaught on who-knows-what kind of technique to get him to sleep with me, her… he let his guard down. We didn’t make it through the whole story. At least I didn’t… the last thing I remember was the Huntsman taking Snow White out into the forest to kill her, but changing his mind at the last minute and killing a boar instead.
I shift around in his arms and look up at his face. He’s sound asleep and snoring softly. I doubt he’s very comfortable. He’s halfway propped up against the headboard, and one leg is hanging off the side of the bed. He wasn’t intending to sleep here. It’s a twin bed and wasn’t meant for two people. Plus, I have my doubts that his own bed is this small. Even if he wasn’t trying to share it with me, his feet practically hang off the edge, and if he sprawled out in the bed alone, I bet it’d be a funny sight. He’d be hanging off in all directions.
Reaching over him, I snap the hard back book closed and drop it over the edge of the bed to the floor below. It’s still dark out, so I gently shake him to wake him up. There’s no sense in him attempting to sleep like this. He should go to his own bed, so he can wake up rested. There’s never a down day on the ranch, and I know that Hunter was planning to swap up the pups that are roaming with the herd later on today. Hunter barely stirs, so I shake him harder. The only thing I manage to accomplish is stopping his snoring.
I reach my hand to the side of his face and brush my fingertips along the chiseled outline of his jaw, letting my weight rest across his torso. He’s not stirring, so I let myself explore his face. His jaw is square, but soft around the edges like someone filed down the sharpness. He’s normally clean-shaven, but right now, there’s some stubble pebbling his skin. He’ll likely shave it off before he starts his work day. His cheeks hollow just enough to be noticeable. I drag my fingertips across his chin and let them wander up to his lips. Lips I know have been on mine. Lips that have drawn pleasure from my body that I don’t remember. Lips that I’m itching to taste, just once while I’m free in my own mind.
“What are you doing?”
The voice is sleepy, but the hand now wrapped tightly around my wrist is not. I gasp and try to snatch my hand away, but his grip is too tight, almost to the point of it hurting. I whimper and he lets go of me. I jerk my hand back and cradle it against my chest as my gaze flies up to his face. His eyes are open, and he’s studying me in silence. No doubt, he’s trying to figure out who he’s woken up next to. I wince as his gaze narrows and open my mouth to try to explain, but what am I going to tell him? That I was exploring his face like a woman infatuated. Yeah, because that’s going to sound normal. No matter which way I try to slice this cake, it’s going to be an awkward explanation.
“I, uh… you had, uh… oh cripes, I don’t know…”
The ice in his gaze melts as he sits up fully and scoots back against the headboard. He’s not glaring at me anymore, but there’s as healthy a distance between us as he can manage. It’s like he’s trying to avoid me, and with good reason… he probably has no idea who he’s talking to. I can see the lump in his throat as he sits there, frozen in time and space. I sit up too and scoot up the bed, relieved when he doesn’t scramble away. He just watches me silently, not daring to move a muscle.
“I’m sorry, Hunter…”
Air whooshes out of him as he visibly relaxes and mutters, “Oh, thank God…”
I’m caught off guard by his response, and I nervously chuckle. “What?”
He shakes his head and holds his arm out to me, motioning for me to come to him. I hesitate for a moment, but oblige as I see his entire demeanor change. I scoot up closer to him, and he wraps the arm around me and tugs me up against him. At first, panic settles in my gut, but it quickly dissipates as he holds me against his chest, his breathing evening out. He whispers, like he’s almost scared to say it, “I thought you were her, attempting to get me to break my promise to you. She does that often, and it’s getting harder and harder to rebuff her. She’s not taking the rejection well and, uh, I thought she was, you know…”
As he trails off, I realize why he was so jumpy. It’s probably pretty disarming to wake up to a woman touching your mouth, especially if she isn’t thinking about trying to utilize it in some way. Although, I will admit I’ve kinda been dying to kiss him, just to get a taste of what I’ve experienced and can’t remember. Part of me wants to just go for it, but the other part of me is terrified of rejection.
He must see me staring at his lips, though, because his next comment is very telling, “Raven, if you uh, wanted to kiss me, I wouldn’t turn you down… I’m attracted to you regardless. It probably makes me sound like a complete jerk, but I was thrilled when Queenie came onto me, until I realized she wasn’t you… it’s still hard to resist her, I won’t lie, but I do because I care about you. Sure, she can, and does, make me feel good, but so do you. It’s just in a different way.”
I swallow hard at his words. My eyes are glued to his lips as he speaks, watching them as he forms each word in such a precise manner, that it’s hard to believe he�
�s a ranch hand and not an English teacher. Though I guess he’s a bit young to be a teacher, so maybe he will be someday. He certainly has a way with words.
He clears his throat and my gaze shoots up to his. I know I’m blushing, but I make no move to hide my face from Hunter. Even though I may not remember it, this man has seen me naked. He’s not alone in that respect, but he’s the only one that I ever cared saw me that way. And he’s never thrown it back in my face, even when I could tell it was frustrating to him to find out that he slept with me, but that it wasn’t me. He’s been charming throughout the time we’ve known each other, and that’s saying a lot. Most men his age would’ve slept with me and then got the hell outta Dodge when I started claiming not to remember anything.
I open my mouth to try to over explain myself some more, like I always do, but the words are cut off as Hunter covers my lips with his. I gasp at first, my entire body turning to stone as my mind panics. I’ve kissed dozens of boys when Queenie’s been in control, but only one when I’ve been in control and that blew up in my face. I want to pull away from him and go hide under a rock, but something stops me from yanking away in embarrassment. There’s a magnetism that I can’t explain, and right now, my mind is too jumbled up to sort anything out.