Page 39 of Tied to You

I take a breath in an attempt to calm myself, my hand stopping him,knowing I have to go. What the fuck is she doing here? With each step I take, the red fog dispels and her breathing quickens. It’s only when I come face to face with her I realise something’s wrong. “Mollie?” I say, ignoring the sweet smell of her.

She swallows, composing herself. “We need you.” Her eyes plead.

“What’s wrong?”

“Blackjack. Something’s wrong. Mick tried calling—”

“—my phone’s dead,” I interrupt her, sensing the urgency in her voice. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair dishevelled. She looks beautiful. But if she’s come here, to fetchme, it must be bad. I should have called Mick once I found out he’d tried getting hold of me.Selfish.“Come on.” I spin her, my hand instinctively placing at the small of her back as she turns. I take one step. “Fuck.” My feet stop.

Mollie looks over her shoulder at me, stopping abruptly.

“I shouldn’t ride,” I tell her honestly.

Her lips pull, and my eyes fall to them. “I’ll drive us,” she says almost sadly.

I nod then follow her, stopping at the door to look back at the men. Given everything that just happened, it feels like a betrayal going with her. But what choice do I have? She needs me.

Skitz is only just getting to his feet, Dennis and Mop helping him.

“Go. I’ll call you later,” Rocco tells me calmly, but I can tell he’s anything but. How the fuck am I supposed to pacify him and handle this situation with Mollie? One thing at a time.

Without a word, I leave, able to smell her scent in the air as I make my way to her shitty car. I wait for Mollie to get in first, then I do the same, lowering my large frame into it. It isn’t comfortable, and neither is the journey back to Mick’s. It’s quiet. The small space crammed with a million things that need to be said.

As if reading my mind, she goes to speak when I do, and we both stop, confused, unable to say anything of worth.

She knows.

I know.

Even the fucking car knows.

The tension is palpable, making me shift in my seat. That, and my head has to cock slightly to one side so that I fit. I look at her out the corner of myeye.

She’s facing forward, eyes fixed on the road ahead. She doesn’t look at me, but her fingers tighten around the wheel, her knuckles whitening. She knows I’m looking at her. Can feel my eyes burning into the side of her head. “We’re here,” she says muffled, clearly feeling the pressure.

I look up the track, my eyes forward as she pulls up. The vet’s car is here too. This can’t be good.

Hearing Mollie sniff, I don’t get a chance to ask her if she’s okay. Her door is open, and I scramble to follow, hot on her heels, seeing the scene of utter carnage before me as we make it to the stable.

Mick looks up. “Where the fuck have you been?” His voice is shrill, his anger evident.

I don’t attempt to retaliate or make things worse when he marches towards me. I can see what’s happened. Can see his anger is instead coming from a place of sadness.

Mollie’s hand raises to her mouth, her eyes closing shut when she sees Blackjack.

Fuck. I don’t like it. This isn’t the woman I’ve come to know in recent weeks. She’s a warrior. Feisty. Full of confidence. But now? She looks broken. “What can I do?” I ask Mick gently, my eyes still firmly on Mollie.

Mick’s fist hits my chest. It’s then I notice Janette knelt by the side of the horse my uncle loves most. Unmoving. Her foal awake, standing by her side. “Help me clear this up.”

Dipping my chin, I move to my aunt, hooking my arms under her, helping her to her feet. “Go back to the house. Take Mollie with you.”

She grips me, sobbing into my chest, her arms holding me tightly.

Mollie watches us, her eyes swelling with her own emotion. She wouldn’t have known what to do in the heat of the moment. I should have been here.

An hour later, Janette and Mick take Blackjack’s body to be cremated. I look down at my hands covered in blood and dirt from the clean-up. Such a mess. Having switched my SIM to a spare phone, thank God I got lucky and managed to find a foster mare at short notice.

Opening the door to the house, I immediately hear the shower running upstairs. I close the door behind me, kick off my dirty boots, then head to the sink, scrubbing my hands until they’re clean.