Page 20 of For Fillies and Monsters

SEVEN

STETSON

March 23rd, 2024

It has beena week since the flowers magically appeared in my kitchen, and I still have not seen or heard anything from my mystery admirer. It’s hard to accept, being both relieved and disappointed by that fact, and I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, even if there was a gun pointed at my head. Being turned on by fear and imminent violence seems like the kind of secret you keep to yourself.

Yes, I have acted on my desires—always anonymously or with one-night stands. I don’t have many people in my life who know me on a personal level, anyway, but those who do, I don’t want them knowing this part about me. I don’t want to tarnish their view of me; I already have enough people who have left my life because I wasn’t good enough.

I wouldn’t have even known this is what I truly like if it hadn’t been for my “monster”, and just as he promised, I can’t escape my need for him and the feelings he tore from me. He awakened the beast inside of me, let it out into the light for the first time and showed me that there are those who relish in the darkness too. It was freeing and beautiful, and oh so tragic, in a way that it scarred my heart and mind permanently. Andlately, it’s been harder and harder to leash the beast inside of myself. I don’t even know that I want to.

But I know I have to. Because even if I need release, I need people to love me more.I need Daleto love me; she’s the only real person in my life and I won’t lose her because I can’t control my urges.

I refuse to let my inner demons rule my decisions or my body. Even if it feels like I’m only living a shell of the life I should be. Even if it feels like I am not fully myself. It’s worth it, if it means I have someone to share the half life with.

“Hey, you about ready? It’s already hotter than Satan’s ball sack out here!” Dale bellows from the entryway of the house. I huff, aware of how miserably hot it is going to be outside.

Today, we are bringing in and vaccinating a group of heifers, the young girl cows that have yet to get pregnant or give birth, in hopes that I can keep them for next year. I don’t know anything about what genetics to keep in the herd, or which to get rid of, but these heifers are all black with white faces, and I think they are cute.

What else is there really to consider?

“Yes, just trying to find clean underwear.” I stomp back toward my room, not caring if Dale can see my naked ass from downstairs. I got as far as putting on a white long-sleeve button-down before I realized I have no clean underwear; no underwear, if my search in the laundry room, dresser drawers, closet floor, and bathroom hamper are any indicator.

Which is weird—really weird.

I’m not the kind of girl to go around commando unless it is part of a predetermined fantasy. And I’m not doing that stuff anymore.So, why can’t I find a single fucking pair?

“Hurry up!” Dale whines.

Grumbling, I yank on a pair of dark wash Wranglers and tuck in my shirt. Apparently, I am going to be that kind of girltoday, much against my own will. There is nothing sexy about sweating and riding a horse, getting sand in every crack and crevice, and rubbing your pussy raw. But I see no other choice.I will be paying for it later.

“Ugh,” I groan, pinching my eyes closed. I’m going to chafe like a motherfucker—just thinking about the raw, damaged mess that will be my pussy tonight makes me want to sell the ranch and torch the house.

Not fucking worth it!

Stomping toward my dresser, I peek in the mirror. My face, already tanned and leathered from weeks spent in the sun, is covered in a dusting of light freckles that pop up on the bridge of my nose and cheeks. My blonde hair is down and wavy, frizzing in the humidity, and I decide to pull it back into a quick braid. To finish off the look, I plunk an old, stained straw cowboy hat onto the top of my head.

I don’t particularly care what I look like; I’m going to be getting nasty working cows, after all. But Nathan called last night and asked if he could come help me today. I know Dale most likely pushed him into it, but I can’t complain about the help. I am desperate, even if I’m unwilling to say so out loud.

“Are you prepping for a date up there?” Dale chides as I step into the dimly lit mudroom.

I roll my eyes, grumbling about how it’s all her fault, and tug on my worn cowboy boots. The soles are starting to wear through, and I know it is only a matter of time before I have to replace them.

Great, another expense.

I take in Dale’s appearance, noting we are dressed in similar attire—a pale blue long-sleeve pearl snap, light wash jeans, and a white straw hat. Regardless of the impending furnace-like heat and unavoidable sweating, Dale’s face is covered in her signature dark eye shadow, mascara, and plum-colored lipstick. Even though I know she is dressed to work, she also looks like she belongs on the cover of a ranching magazine.

“Do you always look cute?” I head into the blistering heat without waiting for a reply.

Dale’s pleased giggle follows closely behind. “Fuck yeah, I do!”

I chuckle, knowing as much, and come face to face with a prettily dressed Nathan. His creased hundred-and-fifty dollar jeans with a tucked-in green polo and a tan cap covering most of his faded blonde hair seem to be his uniform, and I try not to look annoyed. His boyish smile falters a second, and I know I’ve failed.

I can’t help it—is he planning on working in that?I can’t fathom walkingoutsidein the dust in jeans that expensive, much less pushing calves in an alley and getting covered in shit.

Unwilling to make it worse by sounding like an ungrateful bitch, I stride past him without a word.

My mom never told me,“If you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all,”but I know the saying and practice it often. Dale awkwardly huffs behind me, but I ignore it. I have too much shit to worry about to give a fuck about Nathan’s feelings.

---