Page 64 of Bucked Hard

I swivel my head, my eyes looking for any movement in the dark, my ears buzzing, aware of the forced silence surrounding me.

She’s here, and I know who’s with her.

“Leander.” My voice turns to ice. “Don’t do this.”

My body relaxes, my instincts heighten. When you’re scared you’re not aware, and horses have taught me more than enough about how to listen, actually listen so that your awareness expands. So I draw in a steady full breath and blow it out as I count to ten.

Then I hear it.

A snap. It’s almost unintelligible, but I catch it.

I know the sound of a stick breaking under a foot. Human sounds are distinct, unnatural. I let my hearing take over and I catch shuffling, muffled breathing. A wheezing exhale. It’s the sound of someone trying not to be heard.

I hone in and find the origin of the sound, behind me to my left, yet I step forward away from it. Two steps, then I hear another shift, the crunch of leaves.

I remember the small pile of brush behind the cabin, just under the window of the tiny bathroom. It’s ten feet behind me, a few strides but it may as well be a mile because if I can’t get there in one leap then I can’t get there fast enough.

Each beat of my heart thumps all the way into my bones.

If I knew he was unarmed, I’d take the chance, turn and throw myself in that direction.

But I don’t know.

A knife could be at her throat.

A gun at her temple.

Another rustle and I can’t wait.

“I know it’s you, Leander. Just let her go, man.” I turn and my eyes settle on the faint outline of two bodies pressed flat against the flaking paint at the back of the cabin.

“What are you doing here, little brother?” His voice is comical; this is fun for him. “You taking care of my girl while I’m gone? Maybe we’ll share.”

I explode forward like a stallion jumping a stream, but I fall short and land hard, crushing my arm beneath me. As I scramble in the dirt I see the glint of steel in the moonlight held to her throat.

My insides twist and I snarl in his direction. “I’ll kill you if you hurt her.”

“I don’t think so, Chandler. I only want what’s mine. I got to her first, you just filled in. You always got what you wanted, until now. You just had to have her because you know I wanted her, didn’t you? So now you just stay there, Rachel and I have some catchin’ up to do.” He takes a step toward the corner of the cabin, Rachel held against him, his hand over her mouth and knife under her jaw.

Even in the dim light I can see the terror in her eyes.

Hearing those words come from his mouth turns me cold. There is a knife in my front pocket, but I don’t dare take the time to dig it out. He’ll know what I’m doing.

“I never got to finish what I started, did I, sweet girl?” Leander’s voice and Rachel’s whimper release a rage in me I didn’t know existed.

“I mean it, Leander, you hurt her, you’re dead.” My voice shakes. I’ve never wanted to destroy someone like I want to destroy him. All the horror he put our family through comes back to me.

“Aw, baby brother. You won’t kill me. Anyway, I’m not going to hurt her. I got to her first, didn’t she tell you? I loved her first and she loved me. Tell him, Rachel. Tell him the things you did for me.”

My stomach turns and I hold back the vomit that threatens to come up. The thought that he touched her is almost more than I can take.

But the other realization —that I’d asked her if anyone had touched her before, and she’d said no— snakes over my skin like poison. Why couldn’t she tell me?

Rachel’s voice cuts through the darkness. “You don’t love me and I don’t love you. You made me do those things.”

My hands are shaking, every second ticks inside me as I try to figure out how to get that knife away from her throat and trained on me instead.

“You’re not taking this from me, Chandler. You always had to be the good son. The golden child. Well, not this time. Of all the women in the world, you had to try to take her while I was locked up? Do you hate me so much that you’d do this just to take her from me?” Leander shifts another foot to the left, the knife scraping up and down her throat. “You could have anyone. You’re not getting her.”

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