by Fox, Logan
“In fact, we just decided to go out again today. Bare back, this time.”
The crowd only just settled, but now they all burst out laughing again.
Ms. Parsons is probably as red as I am, but this all ends in about five minutes for her — I’m not that lucky. I’m going to be on the receiving end of every horse-related sex pun for the next week until Lavish Prep’s gossip machine finds new fodder.
I’m terribly tempted to announce that I hate horses, Briar, and everything in between and just be done with this farce…
But despite what I told Addy this morning, I’m convinced that getting closer to Briar will give me — us — the answers we’re so desperately looking for. After all, we had a moment out there, yesterday.
It could have been because we were alone, with none of his classmates or friends around to impress. If that’s the case, then maybe it can happen again.
“I’ve always wanted to try that,” I quip, doing my best to ignore how hot my cheeks are. I turn to Briar, giving him a frigid smile. “Oh, and I’ve still got that gift you gave me this morning. Should I wear that?”
Briar blinks, his smug expression freezing. Then his face melts into grudging admiration. He gives me a small nod. “Good one, angel,” he says, his voice only loud enough for me to hear.
“I learn from the best.”
When Briar shakes his head and a rueful smile touches his mouth, my chest feels like it wants to explode. I face forward, brimming with victorious glee. But I know this feeling won’t last. Something rattled him earlier — that’s why he came to sit behind me, why he started talking about Addy.
Fuck it — I know the war’s far from over, but I won this battle and I’m gonna celebrate.
Chapter Twenty
Briar
I meant to throw her off-balance, but Indi has her sea legs already. Despite all this shit with Addy and Jess, I’m looking forward to riding with her again. Just to get her alone, of course. If I can lure her far enough from school, somewhere secluded…
She’d never let me, of course. I’m the predator, she’s the prey — and she’s spotted me.
Now the dance begins.
We’re riding different horses than last time. Indi chose Queen Sophia — a black mare with a white blaze on her nose and I’m sitting a seventeen-hand tall chestnut gelding named Duke of Hearts.
Yeah, Lavish brims with thoroughbreds and corny names.
“No fences,” Indi says as soon as we exit the stable, a finger held up in warning.
“No fences,” I agree with a rueful smile.
“And no galloping.”
But despite the stern tone of her voice, I hear a certain something. Excitement? Pleasure? I can’t be sure, but I have a feeling she’s enjoying this as much as I am.
All that bullshit happening in school feels miles away. Out here, it’s just us, our steeds, and Lavish’s picture-perfect backdrop. Fuck, I wish this was how I’d met her.
Not Sunday night.
Not Monday morning.
Now. Here.
Just two kids out for a ride.
I wish she’d never met Addison either. That poisonous bitch salted the earth for me. After everything Addy’s no doubt been ramming down her throat, it doesn’t matter what I say to Indi, how I act from here on out — she’ll never think I’m anything more than an animal.
“Why so glum, chum?” comes Indi’s cheerful voice from a few feet away.
I snap to the present, and glance across at Indi. She’s wearing a fat grin, melding with her horse on every step. The hand she has on the reigns seems a mere afterthought — her thigh muscles bunch as she guides Sophia with her knees. When my eyes reach Indi’s again, she’s blushing a little. She glances away, and then her hand does tighten as if she’s just remembered exactly who she’s with.
I can’t change the past. I can’t go back and meet Indi again in better circumstances.
I’ll always just be an animal to her.
Fury eviscerates my good mood in an instant. What the fuck was I thinking? We’d go on a horse ride and tomorrow we’d be holding hands and doing our darndest to figure out just how alike — or dissimilar — we really are? That shit’s for pussies and hopeless romantics.
I’m neither.
There’s no point in beating around the fucking bush anymore.
I clear my throat, and Indi gives me a curious smile. She opens her mouth, a smile forming around whatever she’s going to say, but I cut in with a rough, “You should go back to wherever the fuck you came from.”
Indi makes a soft, surprised sound as her eyes widen. “Ex-cuse me?” She sounds more confused than offended, but I turn my voice to steel.
The time for pranks and teasing is over. Should have been over a long time ago.
“You heard me.” I keep my eyes forward. “Tell your parents you don’t like it here. Tell them the boys are mean to you. Tell them whatever the fuck you want.”
“I…” But she doesn’t finish her statement.
“I can keep doing this all year long, Indi. And it’ll only get worse for you.”
It’s best for everyone, honestly. She’s the one that stirred the pot — getting rid of her will reset the clock.
Plus, she can’t like being here — new school, new town.
But she stays silent.
“You tell me you’re leaving, this all goes away.” When I look at her, she’s staring forward again. Her jaw is set, her eyes blinking furiously.
Ah, shit. Is my little virgin gonna cry?
I let out a rough laugh. “Deal?”
“Fuck you,” she whispers furiously.
“Come on, Angel, it’s piss easy. You sit them down at the dinner table tonight. You say, ‘Mommy, Daddy, I don’t like it—’”
Indi kicks Princess Sophia in the ribs. In a second, she’s tearing away from me.
I laugh. Fuck, guess that finally got the response I needed. Should have done this from the start. But I’m not done with her yet. If it takes me forcing her to jump another fence, I’ll do it.
“Ha!”
I race after Indi, banking when she does, following her through the knolls. She glances over her shoulder, grimacing when she sees I’m on her heels. “Leave me alone!” she screams over her shoulder, flipping me off.
Really? She waves a fucking red flag in front of a bull and expects it to go quietly back into its stall?
“Ha!”
Duke speeds up. In seconds, I’m close enough to grab hold of Indi’s arm. She tears herself free, but doesn’t look at me. I urge Duke forward.
Light gleams off Indi’s face.
Her cheeks are wet, her mouth a quivering line. Her chest is heaving as heavily as Sophia’s, and her grip on the reigns is white-knuckled.
What the fuck?
Maybe she really is on the rag. There’s no way what I said could possibly have made her cry.
“Hey!” I bellow. “Slow down.”
In response, she spurs Sophia on.
Duke follows. I know Sophia could beat my gelding, but Indi’s so busy wiping at her face that she’s not controlling her animal. Sophia flags, and I take the opportunity to catch up, lean over, and grab Sophia’s bridle.
Dumb ass move, but when I want someone to stop, they fucking stop.
Sophia’s hooves churn up dirt and grass as she slows, and Indi swats at my hand as if she’s somehow grown strong enough to fight me.
Our horses slow to a canter, a trot, a walk. But Sophia’s barely even stopped before Indi hops off her and takes off running.
Fuck! What is it with her?
“Indi!”
I tie the horses’s reigns together so they can keep each other company, and then I’m sprinting after Indi. She’s fast, but she’s not an athlete. She’s still climbing the fence when I launch myself up behind her.
I grab her ankle.
She kicks me in the face.
So I let her climb over, and then I go after her.
The shado
w of the small strip of woods hugging Lavish Prep’s northern grounds cool my skin a second before I grab Indi’s hair and haul her up short.
She yells out in pain and then starts thrashing around, digging her nails into my wrists and trying to untangle my fingers from her hair.
“What did I tell you about running?” I growl, dragging her against me.
She fights me for another second, and then she goes limp.
Jesus, finally.
Now, should I pin her to a tree again, or just shove her to the ground? Either has appeal—
Her body shakes as a sob wracks her.
Goddamn it.
“Hey, what the fuck’s gotten into you?” I turn her around. Her eyes are squeezed shut, her mouth trembling. I swipe angrily at her cheeks to dry her tears, but more flash down her face an instant later. “Stop crying.”
“F-fuck off.”
I give her a shake, but she doesn’t even seem to notice. “This could all be over, you know. Just say the word. Say you’ll talk to them and I’ll—”
“I f-fucking c-can’t, you moth-therfucking asshole!” What starts out as a blubbering mess of words becomes an enraged yell.
Her veracity hits me like a club. I release her and step back, wondering if she’s gonna attack me. The way her hands are fisted at her sides, her body stiff, I wouldn’t be surprised.
I lift my hands, my mouth lifting up. “Just say the—”
“They’re dead, you piece of shit,” she says through her teeth. She advances on me and slams her fist into my chest.
I barely feel it. I’m staring into eyes bright and green as a water lily pond. “Dead?” I manage, but it feels like someone else is talking with my mouth.
Her fists start drumming against my chest. I gather her up, hold her tight. She fights me, but then another round of sobs takes control. She sags against me, and I let us both sink to the forest floor. I drag her with me as I lean back against a tree trunk. A second later she’s in my lap, bundled up into an impossibly small ball.
She grabs my shirt, nuzzling harder and harder against me as if she wants to burrow inside my ribs so I can keep her safe.
And fuck me, I wish she could. Then I would always have her close, could feel her heart beating beside mine.
I wrap my arms around her, rocking her, willing her to pour out every last sliver of anger, pain, frustration, sadness. I don’t care if all that negativity leeches into me.
I’d fatally poison myself for her and not regret a thing.
I stroke her hair and press my lips to the top of her head, but I doubt she registers a thing. If she did, she’d still be fighting.
Who the fuck wants to be comforted by a wild animal?
* * *
Indi
My legs twitch. I come to with my heart beating in my throat. I’m on my side, draped in shadow, but surprisingly I’m not cold. The green and brown enveloping me slowly comes into focus.
The woods?
I shift a little, a headache thumping in my skull.
There’s an arm slung over my waist.
Panic scurries through me and converges in my chest, forcing out every last bit of air. I lie still as death.
Briar’s behind me, body flush with mine.
What did he do to me? But an internal check produces nothing except the tight headache of a good sobbing session, and a dull ache where a rock’s pressing into my hip.
A warm, steady breath washes over the back of my neck. Goosebumps scatter over my arms and legs, and I slowly turn to look at Briar.
We’re under the boughs of a massive oak tree. The floor is mossy here, only the odd stone. My head is on his arm, and he’s sleeping.
I remember crying. How he held me so tight.
I’ve never felt that…safe before.
None of it makes sense. If anything, I should have run away. Briar’s not someone I want to be alone in the woods with. I grasp his wrist and lift up his arm. It’s heavy, and long, and I already know I won’t be able to move it much without waking him.
I barely lift him an inch before his massive hand grabs my belly and squeezes. I go stiff in shock.
“Briar.” His name catches in my throat, mingling with a gasp when his lips touch the back of my neck.
“Jesus, you smell so fucking good,” he says, those words chasing warm puffs of air over my skin.
Oh God, why did I wake him? Now I can’t move away if I wanted to. It feels like the forest’s claimed me and I’ve gone and taken root.
Briar’s lips skate over my neck, my jaw, my cheekbone. He rains a flurry of light kisses over my face, hesitating when he reaches the edge of my mouth. For a moment he hovers there, his warm, sweet breath fluttering over my lips as the hand on my belly moves down.
Get up. Run away. Don’t let him pull you under!
Briar groans as if he can’t hold back anymore, and his mouth crashes against mine. He takes without asking, dancing without letting me lead, all the while ignoring my mewls of protest.
A frantic ache bursts into my core, thumping in time with Briar’s furious kiss.
How the fuck could I want someone so badly? I don’t care if I never breathe, eat, sleep, or regain consciousness again. All I want is him. I want to give him everything. More and more and more, until there’s nothing left for me to give.
Nothing left for him to take.
I shiver violently at the thought, and Briar pulls back with a reluctant exhale. “You cold, Angel?”
As if offering up the heat of his body, he pulls me hard against him.
I can feel every muscle on his body.
And his rock hard cock.
How easy it would be to just lie here and let this happen. To let him slip a hand up my skirt and tug down my leggings. For his cock to—
I shove at him and scramble up. He lifts his hands in mock surrender, a strange half-smile on his mouth as he stares up at me. Lowering his hands, he props himself up on one elbow.
Laying on his side, he should look defenseless, weak. He doesn’t. He could be a leopard waking from a catnap.
His earlier words tumble back into my mind.
Just tell them you don’t like it here.
Thankfully — thankfully — I don’t have any tears left. He drained them out of me like the sun drains the deserts.
He doesn’t deserve to know, doesn’t even deserve an explanation, but I’m hoping it will be like a thorn in his paw. Something small, seemingly insignificant, but that will drive him mad over time. And the only mouse around to take it out would be me.
“My father—” I swallow hard, and fist my hands at my side. “Stage four Hodgkin Lymphoma. Know what that is? It’s a cancer that attacks your lymph nodes. They thought they got it in time, that they could cut it out.” My voice fails for a second, but I bite the inside of my bottom lip hard enough to taste blood, and then force out the rest. “They kept cutting and cutting, but that didn’t stop it spreading. Eventually, there was nothing left for them to cut out. Not without killing him outright.” I let out a soft laugh. “They dragged it out for a year. A fucking year. That was when he told me and my mom that he’d had enough. That he just wanted the pain to end.” I hold up my hand, fingers spread. “He died five years ago.”
Through my entire toneless monologue, Briar’s expression doesn’t shift an inch. But his eyes keep darting all over my face, like he’s scanning me for the first hint of a lie.
Just thinking about Dad, repeating that story, brings a visceral image to mind; how pale and thin he looked on his bed, skin the same color as the sheets but more translucent. He’d insisted on coming home — said he didn’t want to die in the hospital — and I hated him for that because I knew that, when he died, his spirit would haunt us forever.
And it did.
A black cloud hung over our house every second of every day after he passed away.
My legs go weak, and I hurriedly sink to the ground before I fall.
On my knees, ass on my heels, hands on my
thighs — here I sit in supplication to Prince Briar. Am I begging him to stop tormenting me, or for him to go through with his threats?
He watches me with that same intrusive glare as before; silent, unreadable.
Probably waiting to call bullshit on my train wreck of a life.
I smile, but there’s fuck all warmth in it, because my soul is frozen solid. I’ve been a fucking Ice Queen for half a decade. And my frozen heart? Some random, sadistic fuck shattered it a week ago.
I grip my hands together so they’ll stop shaking.
“Eleven days ago, someone broke into my house and murdered my mother.”
Briar’s mouth twitches, but that’s it.
One. Fucking. Twitch.
“Case is still open. No suspects.”
I lean forward, pressing my palms onto the moss.
Briar slowly sits up and runs his hand through his hair with that same silent scowl on his face.
Guess you wish you could take back all that shit you said earlier, huh?
“One guy. That’s what the cops said. Could have been more, but they only found traces of one—”
I cut off.
Fuck, I can’t do this. What the fuck’s wrong with me? This is private shit. I’ve made my point.
I push up, but Briar darts forward and stops me in my tracks. We’re both on our knees, our bodies a few inches apart. I have to look up at him to see his eyes, and he’s gazing down at me like I’m some kind of forest fairy that’s about to grant him a wish.
My stomach coils uneasily as he slides a hand around the back of my neck, the other on the small of my back.
“Don’t stop,” he murmurs, back to scowling.
“You sick fuck.” I turn my head a little, bile-bitter saliva flooding my mouth. “You sick, sick—”
“Tell me.”
I swallow hard. “What, so you can get off on—”
He squeezes the back of my neck, and I cut off, taking it as a warning. He dips his head a little lower. Suddenly, he doesn’t look angry or frustrated or smug. There’s an intensity to his gaze, some kind of urgency.
“Wh—?”