Page 9 of Dark Things (Payback Duet #1)

Rebelle

Haunt is supposed to meet me here after football practice, but I need to get reacquainted with Black Caviar before he shows up. He’s a raging beast, and it’s going to take him a minute to allow me to get comfortable enough to ride him.

I walk into the stuffy space, knocking on the doorframe as I enter. “Hey, you the stable foreman?” I ask, when I locate the portly man sitting behind the desk. His hair is mostly gone and what looks like mayo—or at least, what I hope is mayo—stains his polo.

His gaze slides along my length, and it takes a lot to not snarl at his clear perusal. Beady eyes, and a sun-wrinkled jowl make his face look almost cartoonish.

“Yeah, who’s asking?” he replies, a firm scowl now in place.

“Reb, Stan Graves’ jockey. I have a session with Black Caviar. It should be listed in your books.”

I wait for the recognition to hit his face. Stan is known in the professional racing world as well as the underground one. If this guy is keeping a tight ship, he’ll know exactly who he’s dealing with, and maybe I won’t have to go through this shit every time I come down here.

His eyebrows shoot up seeing me completely different now. Glad to know he’s only a jerk for the woman who he deems unimportant.

“Aisle four, stall twelve. You should go over his chart; it’s tacked on the side of the stall. Let me know if there are any changes that need to be made. And give Mr. Graves my best.”

I hold in the smirk and push out of the office. The sun is bright in the sky today, making it a perfect day for a few laps around the oval. If I don’t get thrown off, I'll call this a success.

People are all over, mostly men because why would jockeying be a gender equal sport.

There are a few stares, which probably have more to do with me being a woman than my breeches and paddock boots with half chaps.

Normally I’d wear my jeans with the boots, but I didn’t want to take a chance on anything with Caviar being an asshole.

I’m more flexible in my breeches than jeans.

I find the signs for the aisles quickly enough and walk down to his stall.

I swear the air chills a bit when I walk up to the door.

After a glance into his darkened lair, I decide to ignore the untamed dragon inside and pick up the clipboard.

Going over all the notes to make sure they’re up to Stan’s standards, I try not to let my nerves get the better of me.

Stan’s a bitch to please if something isn’t perfect, and I don’t plan to let Black Caviar be the thing that finally takes me out.

A snort sounds to my right, and when I look over a majestic head hovers near my shoulder. I step to the left to put some distance between us in case this fucker gets mouthy.

Black Caviar might be a dick, but he sure is pretty, with a shiny ebony coat and a small star between his eyes. He’s not as tall as Midnight, but he’s just as thick. His chest muscles quiver in anticipation.

“Yeah you psycho, we’re gonna work today. I expect you to be on your best behavior. I got a lot riding on this, and so do you. They’ll put you out in the stud farm so fast, you’ll never be able to get into a gallop again.”

If a horse could roll their eyes, Caviar’s would be in the back of his skull right now. He snorts and disappears into the stall again. Dick .

Sighing, I bend down to get his tack out of the small locker on the side between the two stalls. The bridle and blankets are in there, along with various brushes and hoof picks, but it looks like I’m going to have to go into the tack room to get his saddle.

I put the clipboard back onto the hook and walk back the way I came. Maybe I can find someone to tell me where it is so I don’t have to go back to speak to Mr. Mayo Stain.

A head of blond hair leans out of a stall two spaces down. A guy around my age smiles wide and waves. Oh great, a happy one.

“Hi! You must be new. I’m Tom, Stately’s groom. How are you?”

I’m a little stunned at first, trying to figure out why this dude is so excited, but then again, I did need someone to show me where the tack room is.

“Reb. And yeah, I’m Black Caviar’s jockey.”

“Whoa, that’s so cool. I mean he’s a beautiful guy, but the fact that you’re female is even more amazing.”

I cock my head to the side, and squint my eyes again. This guy can’t be this happy all the time. It’s a little creepy.

I give him a tight smile. “Thanks. Um…could you tell me where the tack room for the saddles is located? My groom doesn’t get here ’til later on, but I want to get an early start.”

“Oh, sure. Give me a sec to pack my things, and I’ll walk you over.”

Happy and helpful — awesome.

I hear him banging around on the other side of the stall before he comes out, his groom kit clutched in his hands. He opens up his locker and pops the whole thing in before pulling out a package of wipes to clean his hands.

When he’s done, he starts walking down the aisle, and I speed up to keep in step with him.

Tom’s a tall dude, I’d say around six feet or so.

His hair is messed up from running his fingers through it, and he’s surprisingly fit.

I’d think a guy like him wouldn’t work out that much.

His sunshine personality doesn’t fit with his build.

You’d think he was a jock asshole from first look.

“How long have you worked here?” I ask, curious to see if I can get some barn gossip out of him. It might be worth the trouble to see if I can find out who’s important around here.

“About four years. I live in Saratoga and my dad used to take me to the track during the summers. I fell in love with it, and as soon as I saw the ad for the groom I jumped on it. It came in handy too; I just started Skyton at the time.”

I raise my brow; this might be my perfect in. “I just started there this semester. I came up from Kentucky.”

Kentucky is the story we give everyone when they ask where we’re from. It’s Stan’s home base for his one legit horse business. It’s also where the compound is.

“Really? That’s awesome. I mean what are the odds, huh? ”

Well, the odds are pretty good considering there’s only like two colleges in the immediate area.

“What are you studying?” I ask.

His whole entire face lights up like I told him that he’s won the lotto. “Equine Studies. I’m going to vet school next year. Cornell.”

“Impressive. I heard it’s a grueling program but worth it.”

“Yeah, but I’m looking forward to it. Once I get my degree, I can come back here and hopefully live the dream.”

Sounds kind of like the life I would have had if my whole world hadn’t crashed around me. But there’s no room for looking back. I can only push on and hope this plan we have won’t burn what’s left of me.

We approach a small building on the side of the stables, and the door flies open. A tall Greek god steps out, holding a saddle. His scowl tells me this won’t be the day I've planned.

“Haunt,” I say. He lifts his gaze, and his whole face changes, lines smoothing out and eyes brightening again.

“I was just coming to you,” he says, glancing over at my new companion, his eyes narrowed.

“This is Tom. He’s a groom for one of the horses in our aisle. Tom this is Black Caviar’s groom, Haunt,” I say.

Haunt’s gaze flicks back to mine before it returns to Tom. There’s something I’m missing here. Tom should be no one to us, but this is curious.

“We know each other,” Tom says, his happy tone nowhere to be seen. I wait for the story that should accompany this statement, but nothing comes out.

The boys seem to be in a silent stare down that is quickly becoming an awkward situation. Haunt’s knuckles are white on the lip of the saddle, his posture ramrod straight, as if he’s looking for a fight.

“Um…anyone want to tell me what’s going on?” I ask, eyes ping-ponging from one guy to another.

“Tom is on the football team. Seems like he doesn’t agree I should be on it. Or is it that you have a problem with me being on the starting line up?” Haunt asks.

Tom bristles, taking a step forward, and I raise my eyebrows. Did Happy Tom just step up to Haunt? I hide my smile behind my hand and clear my throat. This seems to knock Tom out of whatever trance he was in because he turns to me, his smile right back in place.

“I think this is my cue to leave. It was nice to meet you, Reb. Let me know if you want to get a coffee one day. I’ll show you around the rest of the track.

There’s a lot of places you could get lost if you don’t know where you’re going,” Tom says.

With one last look at Haunt, he disappears around the building.

“What in the fuck was that about?” I ask. Haunt just grunts, walking the rest of the way down the lane to get back to where the stables are. I quickly catch up, pulling on the sleeve of his black T-shirt.

“Tom was the stand-in wide receiver last year. He was supposed to be on the starting line, but then I showed up. I guess he doesn’t like that I’m better than him.”

“It seems like more than that, Haunt. He was about to throw down. Happy Tom was about to punch you in the mouth.” I chuckle.

“Happy Tom? I’m sure he’d love to hear you call him that. That guy is wound so tight his underwear is permanently up his ass. All he does is scowl and bitch when we’re at practice.”

Confused, I shake my head. “He was all smiles here, like the perfect tour guide. I swear that switch was insane to watch.”

Haunt just hums, ending the conversation. If he doesn’t see a problem with Tom, I’m not going to put any more thought into it. I have enough on my plate at the moment.

Black Caviar’s head is back out of the stall when we finally get back to his aisle. He sees the saddle, and his hooves start banging on the door.

“If I die today, you get to keep my sex toy collection, but you can’t use them on anyone except yourself. You’re to remain celibate due to your role in my death,” I state.

Rolling his eyes, Haunt puts the saddle down on the locker and looks around. We’re alone on the aisle, but that could change at any moment.

“First the hair pulling and now talk about sex toys. Are you looking to get thrown over the next available flat surface?” he teases, leaning in and brushing his fingers over my cheek.

I lower my voice and take a step into him.

“If we were alone I’d be throwing you down and riding that beautiful face until I come all over your tongue, but we’re out here trying to keep me alive, so saddle that fucker up and let’s do this.

If we get this shit over with you can fuck me in the shower before dinner. ”

Haunt’s blue eyes glow in the afternoon sun. “You always know exactly what to say to get me motivated.”

I chuckle as he unlatches the stall door and walks into Caviar’s space like a freaking moron. Me, I wait outside until the last moment because I like my legs in one piece. Now I just have to manage this beast around the track, and I can get that shower sex I want.