Breaking the Reins

by Juliana Haygert

  Oh, Lord …

  “Stop!” I yelled. “Please, stop!”

  Hilary tried moving away, by jerking her legs and scooting to the side, but he pressed the gun to her chest and she stopped, whimpering.

  His hand continued sliding under her dress.

  A tear rolled down my cheek. “You don’t want to do this, Eric. Please, you’re only trying to get back at me. I’m here. I’ll be good. I promise. Please, don’t do this.”

  He licked his lower lip. “I don’t believe you. I think you too need a lesson. Besides, who says I don’t want to do this?”

  He leaned over her and her sobs became louder. He buried his face in her neck, and Hilary turned her face as far away from him as she could. Still holding the gun, he grabbed her hips and pulled her to the edge of the couch. Oh, Lord, no, no, no. I tugged against the ropes, against the chair. I kicked my legs. I screamed. I had to do something. Anything.

  Eric sniffed her hair and moaned, thrusting his hips on hers. She screamed.

  “You like it, don’t you?” he asked, settling the gun beside them on the couch. His hand moved quickly over the waist of his pants.

  “Eric, please, I beg you, don’t do this,” I asked, my voice breaking with every word.

  He turned to me, the glint of mad desire burning his eyes. “Don’t be such a bitch.” He licked his lips again. “You’ll have your turn. Right after I’m done with this sweet girl.”

  As he was pulling his pants down, his phone rang.

  Cursing, he pulled back and reached for his phone and the gun on the couch. He looked at the screen, cursed some more, and stood, pulling his pants back up.

  “Hello,” he said into the phone, walking to the opposite side of the room.

  Hilary lay limply on the couch, her head down and her blond hair over her face. She was crying and trembling.

  “Hilary,” I whispered. She lifted her face to me, her hair still like a curtain over her. I wanted to tell her I was sorry, that I loved her, and that everything would be all right, but we didn’t have much time. “Hil, grab the knife.” She brushed the hair from over her damp eyes. “The butter knife on the tray. Get it.”

  Like she had been injected with adrenaline, she straightened her back and, spying over to Eric, who had paced around the other corner of the living room, she grabbed the knife.

  “I’m not sure this will work,” she whispered, bringing the knife to my ropes. With shaking hands, she started working on it. “This knife is too dull. This is going to take forever.” She stole glances at Eric every two seconds.

  “Keep going,” I said, my voice low. “Probably not the right time to ask, but what are you doing here?”

  “A guy named Leonardo called Mom, saying he had been calling you and you weren’t picking up and that something was wrong. He said something about not coming here alone; he said to call the police to come check on you. Of course, he made Mom worried, so she called you and got the same thing. By then, she was pulling her hair out. So, I offered to come check on you.”

  I shook my head. “Leo said not to come alone. You shouldn’t be here.”

  She struggled against the knife, and it almost fell from her hand, scratching me in the process. “Sorry,” she whispered.

  We spied over at Eric.

  “I understand,” he said to whoever was talking to him. “We have time.”

  Hilary’s hands stopped moving—not shaking—as she stared at him. “I can’t … I can’t believe it’s the same guy.”

  I slapped her hand, but it was more like my fingers brushing over her palms. “Hey!”

  “Sorry,” she muttered before working on the rope again. “This will take forever.”

  “Then you better keep at it!” I hissed.

  She had cut half the width of the rope when we heard Eric saying goodbye on the phone. Quickly, she hid the knife under me and returned to the corner of the couch.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Eric said, turning back to us. “Mr. Nash will be a little late, which means”—he strolled closer, and I tensed as his eyes fluttered from Hilary, to me, back to Hilary, then back to me—“we have a lot of time for ourselves.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Instead of forcing his way with Hilary right away, Eric went to the kitchen—two minutes that Hilary and I worked more on the ropes—and brought back a bottle of wine and three glasses.

  He pushed the tray away and sat on the other side of the coffee table, diagonal between Hilary and me.

  She was still trembling and I didn’t blame her. I was trembling too; I just was more focused on cutting my ropes, kicking him in the gut, and running away.

  With his perpetual charming smile, Eric filled the glasses with red wine and offered them to us.

  “Ah, I guess I’ll need to cut one of your arms free,” he said. He set my glass down and pulled a penknife from his pocket. My eyes widened, and I prayed he chose to cut the ropes Hilary hadn’t touched.

  She stared at me, her eyes as wide as mine.

  I held my breath as Eric reached for my left arm. The arm with the rope half cut.

  “What the fuck?” he asked, twisting my arm to have a better look at it.

  A scream rang in my ears as Hilary grabbed the wine bottle and broke it over Eric’s head. Red liquid splashed everywhere as he tumbled to the floor. She took the penknife and cut me free.

  My heart racing, I picked up a plate from the tray and broke it over Eric’s head. Just to make sure. Then, I grabbed Hilary’s hand and we raced out of the house.

  We skidded to a halt when we saw Pete on the farthest corner of the porch, a gun apparent on his waist, and another man standing by the cars in the parking lot.

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  I tightened my grip around Hilary’s hand and pulled her forward, rushing to the stable. With her heels, she tripped over the stones, but I held her up and we continued running.

  “Jimmy!” I cried once we crossed the doorway. “Argus!”

  Nothing. My heart died a little. I wanted to stop and help them, but I had to get Hilary out of here first. Get us out of here first.

  I let go of Hilary and took a bridle and reins from the wall.

  “They’re coming,” Hilary said, her voice a high pitch.

  I pushed the bridle and reins into her hands. “Go. The fourth stall to your right. It’s Belle. She’s easy and gallops fast. Just …… hop on her, get her going, then put on the harness.”

  She looked at me confused. “What?”

  “Just go.” I pushed her again and turned to the wall, grabbing another bridle and reins for me.

  She retreated. “I don’t understand.”

  “They probably run faster than us, but they won’t run faster than a horse,” I explained, walking to Chip’s stall. “Now go!”

  She whirled on her heels, and I turned to Chip’s door.

  From the corner of my eyes, I saw both bodyguards a few feet from the stable.

  “Shit,” I muttered. “Argus!” I opened Chip’s door.

  Argus whimpered and I froze. Oh, Lord. He was still awake, maybe conscious. Without thinking, I ran to his stall. He was on the floor, blood smeared everywhere. I pressed a hand over my mouth as a sob raked my body.

  Pete entered the stable, and the other man was fast approaching. I glanced over to Belle’s stall and saw Hilary pulling her out. She would make it, but I wouldn’t have time to mount and gallop away.

  I turned to the wall again and grabbed a whip, much like the one Eric used to hurt Argus and Jimmy. Nausea settled in my stomach. I didn’t want to be like Eric. I wasn’t. However, I had to fight my way out of here.

  Pete halted a few yards from me, his gun trained at me. “Don’t move!”

  I froze.

  Behind me, Hilary froze.

  I shook my head and raised the whip. “Go, Hil.” I ducked, in case Pete shot, stepped aside, and brought the whip down on his arm.

  “Aaah!” The gun fell to the ground and he cradled hi
s arm, a thin red line emerging from under his shirt.

  Shit. What had I done? Before I could feel bad about it, the other man stepped into the stable.

  “Go, Hil,” I repeated, as the second man drew his gun from its holder.

  “But—”

  “NOW!” I screamed, interrupting her protest.

  “Stop!” the man yelled. I didn’t know who he wanted to shoot, or if he would shoot at all, but I stepped into his line of sight, hoping Hilary’s wasn’t too high above my head.

  Moments later, the sound of Belle’s hooves stomping the ground grew distant, and that simple fact brought such a relief to me.

  From behind Pete and the other bodyguard, I saw Eric stumbling out of the house. His clothes were stained from the wine, and I thought I saw a small trail of blood running down his head. That gave me a tiny bit of satisfaction—bet he never saw that coming!

  I focused my attention to both bodyguards. Pete was already on his feet, his gun back in his hands. Shit. Three against one.

  Argus's high-pitched nickering sounded from somewhere behind me, and my heart swelled. Even hurt, he was still trying to get to me.

  The bodyguards spied around me, and I could only guess Argus was trying to get out of his stall.

  “Don’t hurt her!” Eric’s voice boomed from the distance as he climbed down the front steps of the porch.

  The bodyguards didn’t lower their guns, but at least I was more relieved that they wouldn’t shoot me in case I decided to run, which was exactly what I was thinking about doing. I doubted I could outrun them, but if I had a cell phone or something, I could call 9-1-1 while running. I hoped Hilary had her cell phone on her and called someone. Or, maybe I could trick them and reach my car. The keys were still in the ignition … I hoped.

  Eric reached the halfway point in the path to the stable.

  All right. Now or never.

  I inhaled all I could.

  Five.

  Four.

  Three.

  Two.

  Tires squealed and my heart skipped a beat. Mr. Nash wouldn’t enter the property on a bootleg turn.

  The bodyguards glanced over their shoulders as Eric’s eyes widened. A second later, he ran, really ran, out of the way as a SUV drove by right where he had been a second ago.

  With the same hoodie and cap as before, Leo opened the door of his Cherokee and stepped out, his baseball bat in his hand.

  His eyes found mine, and I could see and feel the relief in them once he found me intact.

  My chest felt tight with so much hope. And love.

  Leo shifted his gaze to Eric. “I’m so ready to kick your ass.”

  With a growl, Eric turned his hand toward Leo. I yelped, but Leo swung the bat, hitting Eric’s hand and sending the gun flying. The bodyguard I didn’t know dashed to them, while Pete lowered his gun briefly and advanced to me.

  Still in a daze, it took me a precious second to react and run from him, a second he used to catch up with me and wrap his arm around me, tight, pulling my back to his chest and his gun to my neck.

  “Stop fighting,” he said through gritted teeth.

  I did stop fighting, but only because I had to think for a minute.

  Somehow, Leo knew how to fight, and it was kind of entrancing to see him dodging and parrying and landing blows with or without the bat, like a professional boxer. I shook my head, remembering his past and realizing he probably learned how to fight during his rebellious years.

  “She’ll never be yours,” Eric said, preparing a hook. But Leo ducked, slamming the bat on Eric’s back.

  Eric fell on his knees on the ground.

  “She’s a person and she belongs to herself alone,” Leo said, letting the bat go down again.

  Eric screamed as it struck his side.

  Then, the second bodyguard raised his gun and pointed it at Leo.

  Desperation gripped my heart. “Leo!” I cried.

  He jumped to the side just as the shot boomed through the air, and I gasped. Surprising everyone, even me, Leo whirled around, bringing the bat to the bodyguard’s head. The man fell on the ground.

  Before I could react—hit Pete in the groin, bite his hand, elbow his stomach, or something—Argus neighed behind us. Pete glanced over his shoulder as Argus’s front legs were coming down. He stepped to the side, causing his grip to loosen around me and putting him in a perfect place. With all the strength I had, I kicked Pete past the door behind him, inside the tack room. He staggered back and almost fell to the ground. I quickly closed the door, thankful the keys were on this side of the door. I locked it and threw the key away.

  Pete banged against the wall. “Let me out!”

  I tuned him out as I turned to Argus.

  His white coat was stained by blood flowing from the thin cuts on his neck and leg, and he looked jittery.

  I raised my hands. “Hey, boy, it’s me.” Carefully, I approached him and gently ran my hand over his muzzle. “You’re gonna get through it.”

  The sound of a shot made me jump, and I whirled around.

  Leo fell on his knees, his hands over the side of his abdomen.

  “No!” I cried, giving a couple of steps in his direction. Until Eric turned to me, the gun in his hand and a wicked smile on his lips. “No,” I muttered.

  Shaking, I grabbed Argus’s mane and pulled him to run by my side. He didn’t move, just poked me with his muzzle. Understanding what he wanted, I held on tighter to his mane and pulled myself up, without saddle, without bridle, without reins.

  His first step was wobbly, and I questioned the stupidity behind mounting him to escape. But, he regained his footing and started trotting away.

  Without resisting it, I glanced over my shoulder. Eric was skidding to a stop, the gun ready, and Leo was on the ground, the bodyguard hovering over him like a predator. What the guard didn’t see was Leo’s hand, reaching for the bat a few inches away.

  I patted Argus’s neck and he sped up. We crossed the back gates in no time and kept accelerating. Until another shot exploded from inside the stable.

  Argus’s knees caved in and we went tumbling down. For a couple of seconds, we were one single mess. Then his chest fell over my legs, and we lay sprawled on the ground. Pain shot from where my side had taken the brunt of the fall.

  Argus snorted, trying to get up, but couldn’t. Dizzy, I pushed up on my elbows and watched Argus falling over me for a second, still trying to understand what happened. When things clicked, I sat up the rest of the way, gasping.

  Blood sputtered from Argus’s side like someone had opened a faucet of water.

  “No, no,” I muttered, pulling my feet from under him. “Argus, boy, please. Hang on.”

  He inhaled, a wheezing noise that sent fear rolling down my spine.

  I glanced to the side—Leo brawled with the bodyguard, blood trickling down the side of his hoodie, and Eric approached us—wishing a cell phone would pop into my hands, and I could call Dr. Bohm to come and take Argus to the hospital right away. I couldn’t lose him.

  Eric stood by us, his gun pointed at Argus. “I should have killed him a long time ago.”

  “No,” I croaked, putting myself between his gun and Argus.

  Eric glared at me. “I don’t see any reason to keep him alive, baby. Besides, he is losing a lot of blood. I don’t think he’ll recover anytime soon.”

  Movement behind Eric caught my eyes, but I refused to look. Instead, I kept my eyes on his, begging him not to do it.

  A leaf crunched under a sole, and Eric turned to the noise. Leo swung his bat and hit Eric’s face, making him stagger to the side. Recovering, Eric raised his gun to Leo, but I ducked under his arm and raised it up, making the bullet fly to the sky.

  Leo took advantage of that and swung his bat toward Eric again. Eric pushed me toward it, and Leo barely had time to stop it before it hit me in the chest. Gasping for air, I fell on my knees beside Argus. The horse jerked, visibly trying to get up, and Leo glared at Eric.
r />   “I’m gonna kill you,” Leo said, his teeth gritted.

  “No, I’m gonna kill you!” Eric pressed the trigger, and the bullet hit the baseball bat, causing Leo to lose his grip on it. The bat fell at his feet, broken in two.

  “No!” I cried, trying to get up.

  Eric was about to shoot Leo again, but Argus jerked up, kicking his hind legs at Eric and making him stumble back.

  Leo charged Eric, punching him in the face. Eric fell on the ground, but he hooked my ankle and pulled me with him. I fell back, hitting my head on a rock. It all went dark for a second, but then I found myself by Eric’s side, his gun at my neck.

  “Try anything, and I’ll kill her,” he said, pressing the cold metal against my skin.

  I yelped.

  Leo was frozen, his eyes wide. Slowly, he raised his hands. “All right. I’ll do whatever you want me to. Just don’t hurt her.”

  Eric sat up, pulling me with him. He turned his face to me, inhaling deeply. I winced. “Stand there. Very still. Your arms at the side.”

  Leo’s eyes met mine, and I saw the conflict in them. He wanted to save me, but dead, he wouldn’t be able to.

  I felt movement behind us, but wasn’t sure what it was. Eric’s gun pointed to Leo caught my attention, and I forgot about all of it.

  “Any last words,” Eric asked.

  Leo nodded, without taking his eyes from mine. “I love you,” he whispered. Then he glared at Eric. “And you’re a sick bastard who deserves to rot in hell.” Leo’s tone rose. “Even so, that wouldn’t be enough. Motherfuckers like you should feel on their own skin what they have done to others.” Leo’s voice kept on getting louder. “I just wish I somehow had a hand in your demise, because you’ll have one and it’s going to be sooner than you think.”

  Leo smirked and I gaped at him. What was happening?

  All of a sudden, Argus’s hooves fell over Eric’s back, and Leo reached forward, grabbing my arm and pulling me away. He embraced me tightly as Argus reared, letting his hooves come down over Eric again, making him scream. As if trying to avenge everything he had ever done to anyone, Argus stomped Eric’s body.