Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
I turned the safety on my gun and set it on the ground. “No. I’ll handle her.” I made it to the bottom of the stairs, ferocity circling in my veins. How could she be so stupid? In her defense, I never told her about the alarm system, but she was stupid to run off in the middle of the night.
Dante pulled out a pistol from his back pocket. “Just in case?”
I wasn’t walking up to Muse with a gun. I didn’t have a clue what she was doing at the stables, but scaring her wasn’t the best way to handle it. “No.” I left out the back door she used and crossed the grass to get there quicker.
All the lights from the stables were on, and the bugs were attracted to the bright lights that highlighted the grass around the area. I entered the stables and found her leaning over the fence where one of the tamest mares was housed. Her chin was propped in her hand, and she petted the horse as it stood over her. The rest of the horses stuck their heads out, confused that there was a visitor in the middle of the night. Even Carbine was looking at her.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
She jumped two inches off the ground and even spooked the horse with her movements. “Jesus…you scared me.”
“I scared you?” I snapped. “Your little stunt set off the alarm in the house. Dante and I were both armed and ready for war. What the hell were you thinking?” I came closer to her, feeling my arms shake in annoyance. “If you couldn’t sleep, you could have turned on the damn TV or made a snack in the kitchen.” When I was just a foot away, that’s when I noticed the puffiness of her eyes. Covered with moisture and red, her eyes showed the classic signs of crying. I shut my mouth when I realized this was more complicated than just not being able to sleep.
She quickly turned away, hiding her face from me. “I’m sorry…I didn’t know about the alarm. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have left.” She trailed her fingers up and down the snout of the horse, petting the mare gently.
I came up beside her, feeling like an ass when I shouldn’t. “Why did you come out here?”
“I just…couldn’t sleep.”
I wasn’t buying it. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m not crying.” She continued to hide her face, letting her hair cover her side profile.
“Don’t lie to me. I don’t lie to you.”
She sniffed slightly then wiped her nose.
I leaned against the fence and rested my arm on top. I stared at the side of her face, waiting for her to look me in the eye. Up until that point, she’d never been afraid to meet my gaze. No matter how intimidating I was, she never flinched. But now her posture was broken, and she seemed defeated. “Muse.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t.” She scratched the horse behind the ears then stepped away. “I’ll come inside now so you can go back to sleep.”
I could just let the conversation die and return to bed, but I was too involved not to care. I didn’t like those tears, not when they weren’t caused by me. I didn’t like knowing she was in pain, unless she was struggling to take my dick. Knowing there was something gnawing at her made me feel vulnerable too. “Muse.” I grabbed her by the elbow and forced her to face me. “You can talk to me.”
“You don’t care, Conway. And that’s fine. You don’t need to pretend with me.” She turned away again.
I grabbed her again, and this time, I dragged her into me. “Would I have asked if I didn’t care?”
She didn’t twist out of my grasp. She held my gaze, her watery eyes slowly drying. “I just had a nightmare. I had to get out of bed. Sweat was everywhere, and I couldn’t breathe…in the dark, I kept seeing his face. My first instinct was to go to your room, but then I remembered your intolerance. So I thought of the place that makes me feel happy…which is this place.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the horses in their pens.
I wanted to ask what her nightmare was about, but I could connect the dots. “Do they happen often?”
“Not like this one…it just felt so real. He killed my brother…he touched me. It was bad.” She ran her hands through her hair and closed her eyes, like she was fighting the memory from entering her brain again.
“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t an empty phrase to replace a real sentiment. I really felt terrible that she felt that way. I’d always considered Muse to be a strong woman, a fearless one who never gave up. To see her break down in fear made me feel like shit.