Page 36 of Dark Things (Payback Duet #1)

She looks behind me, expecting him to be hovering over me like any normal day, but when she doesn’t see him her eyebrows crease together.

“He had to run errands for your dad. He’ll be back by tonight,” I say, letting the lie settle on my tongue before going over to the coffee machine and pouring some into a travel mug.

Watching my movements, she slides a breakfast sandwich over to me. “You’re leaving, too?” Her face drops, and I tilt my head for a moment. We’ve hung out a few times, but I didn’t think Cat was missing me. I guess some people can surprise me after all.

“Yeah, I have to go to the track today for Stan. What are you up to?” I ask, taking a seat at the table. I take a bite of my sandwich, watching the clock above the fridge. I have about two hours before I need to leave for the track, but I have a small stop to make before then.

“Oh,” Her face looks forlorn and I kick myself for not making more time for her. Not that it’s my job, but I kind of like Cat. She’s way different from Haunt, but her soul is so shiny and bright, it’s hard to not want to bask in it.

“Hey, why don’t we do something next week? Maybe before we go to practice. I’m sure Peanut would love a trail ride. You could even take Rex if Haunt doesn’t want to come with us. It could be fun.”

Her eyes light up and she nods. “I’d love to. I can show you the small lake behind the property, and we can pack a lunch. Marc makes a mean picnic basket.”

“It’s a date, then. I have to take off, but I’m sure I’ll see you at some point this weekend. You’re good, right? Is everything going well with Aslyn?”

Her face flushes, and she clears her throat. “Um…we’ve been talking. Nothing serious, just casual.”

I give her a genuine smile and lean in to whisper. “I think you guys are cute together. Aslyn seems like a good fit for you.”

She sputters on her coffee. I give her arm a squeeze before I pick up the bag I packed at two a.m., and make my way outside to Haunt’s SUV. I double check the lock box in the center counsel, and make sure my SIG is loaded. I do the same with the .380 and another nine millimeter we keep in there.

I drive over to the boys’ house. It’s the first stop on the list, because I will get some fucking answers, and since they’re the ones who decided to take my love, it’s not going to end well for anyone.

I haven’t seen anything on the cameras since they left for the fight last night, but they could have looped them. I won’t take any chances if he’s there. I have to find him quickly, and if they decided to backstab us, I won’t fucking hesitate this time, no matter how much it will hurt my heart.

There are only two cars parked in the driveway when I pull up, but that doesn’t mean anything really. We’ve been doing recon on them since I’ve seen them, and they always seem to take the same car and sometimes they park it in the garage.

I hop out and march up to the door, slipping my SIG in the holster at the small of my back. I have on my usual jeans and T-shirt, but right now I feel like I could be wearing battle gear with the fury coursing through me.

My finger presses into the bell and I take a step back, pulling the SIG from its holster and rest it on my thigh at my side. I wait for a full minute then ring it again—nothing. I make my way around to the back of the house and get out my lock picking kit.

Once I’m in, I draw my weapon and begin to sweep the house. All is quiet, but I still scan every room in case I’m missing something. I go upstairs and find nothing. I let out a frustrated groan and go back down to the kitchen.

No dishes in the sink or coffee in the pot.

They haven’t been back here since the fight, which leaves me with two choices.

The club or Mario’s ranch. I don’t know which one is worse at this point.

I can’t go alone, and that means calling in backup.

People will die, but I can’t find it in me to care. All that matters is getting Haunt back.

The drive to the track doesn’t take much time.

I’m in the locker room surrounded by jockeys and getting too many looks to be polite.

I change into my breeches, silks, and boots.

I grab my helmet, crop, and gloves out of my bag and make my way out to the barn area.

Stan is sitting by Caviar’s stall, and Tom is grooming him on the cross-ties outside.

“You’re early. I’m surprised; usually you test my fucking patience,” Stan says, picking up the racing program and getting a pen out of his pocket.

Tom looks over at me, but thankfully minds his business. I clench my teeth, but manage to make my voice even. “Figured I’d warm Black Caviar up before the race, unless you have someone coming?”

He grunts, not taking his eye off the paper. I take that as a yes and wait for Tom to finish up saddling Caviar before I grab his lead and make myself walk away. I don’t stay alone for long.

“Hey, Reb, how have you been?” Tom asks, coming to join me.

My hand clenches tighter around the lead rope, but I keep my body language neutral. “Good, busy with classes. How about you?”

He gives me a weird look, but it’s gone in an instant. Normal people wouldn’t notice it, but I haven’t been normal for a really long time.

“Same, football season is in full swing, so I’ve been practicing a lot. Where’s your boyfriend?”

I stop just outside of the track and turn to give Tom my full attention, which for most is not a good thing. He’s fidgeting, moving from foot to foot, his ears turning a light shade of red.

“Haunt had other things to do. Why?”

He shrugs and looks out watching the other horses and handlers on the track for a moment before turning toward me. “He’s not a good guy. I know you haven’t been at Skyton long, and we don’t really know each other, but that guy isn’t right in the head. I wanted to warn you.”

If I wasn’t so fucking sick with worry I might laugh and make a joke, but today I only have my own poisoned blood circulating around my body. There’s no room for joy or laughter without Haunt.

“Look, Tom, I take it you’re not a fan of Haunt’s, but you really don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Haunt isn’t the one who should come with a warning label. It’s me. I’m not a good girl, or whatever the fuck you’re thinking.”

His face should look shocked or worried, but it doesn’t, and that leaves a pit in my stomach.

I walk closer to him, putting me shoulder to shoulder with Caviar.

The horse is starting to get antsy, and I need to get him on this track and warmed up if we’re going to make the race, but Tom looks like he knows something, and that’s a fucking problem.

He blows out a breath, and his hands go into the pockets of his jeans. I give him a small assessment, waiting for his response.

Finally he speaks. “Do you know who you’re really racing for? Who Haunt’s family is?”

My blood turns frozen. No one should know who Stan really is. No one outside our bubble of minions knows who he was in his old life. Stan Graves is a racehorse owner, breeder, and all around douchebag to clients, but no one knows .

“I’m going to warn you because you seem like a good guy. Forget everything you know about Stan Graves. Go to Cornell, make something of yourself and stay out of the business that you truly don’t want a part of.”

His eyes find mine, the intensity there something I haven’t seen in a regular guy in a long time. Tom is involved with something, but I don’t have time to find out what. I tug on the lead and walk Caviar around Tom, not turning back.

“Just be careful,” he says, but I don’t respond.

Walking Caviar into the entrance of the barn, I use the mounting block off to the side and climb on.

He does his stupid dance, throwing his head a little, but I keep him grounded and in the zone.

Maybe if I get his brain to concentrate on racing I won’t have an issue with getting him through the gate, because I don’t have fucking time to deal with overexcited horses, asshole bosses, or sweet guys who think they can save me.

A part of my heart is gone, and that’s the only thing that’s important right now.