Page 54 of Chaos

Like he knows exactly what I’m promising, he nudges the back pocket where I usually stash his treats. “Later,” I promise again, giving him another firm pat before slowly backing up. When I almost trip over the saddle, I bend over to grab it, and as I straighten up, something in my peripheral catches my eye.

I’ve got a bigger audience now. Not just my brother and van de Camp, but the other ranch hands, and my sisters too. Lips thin and arms crossed, Lux looks pissed as all hell, but fuck it, she’s still going to be pissed even if I stop now. I might as well finish what I started.

“Here we go,” I croon in that same, soft voice as I reapproach Ruin and do the exact same thing with the saddle, showing it to him, rubbing the supple leather against him, half-resting it on his back so he can get a feel for the weight. “Not gonna hurt you, my boy. Never gonna hurt you. You know that. We’re good. We’re fine.”

Ruin grunts. He doesn’t move a muscle.

I rest my forehead against his heaving side, and I fuckingbeg. “Please, Ruin. Please. I need someone here who’s just as fucked up as I am, okay?”

Another grunt. Still no movement.

Ican barely move. I sure as fuck can’t breathe. I hold my breath and cringe through half-closed eyes as I brace for that temper to flare, as I oh-so-cautiously slide the saddle on.

And nothing happens.

“Good fuckin’ boy.” I have to work to keep my voice even, to stop from squealing in excitement like a little girl. “You’re my favorite thing on this ranch, in theworld, right now, you know that?”

Ruin’s upper lip quivers as he bobs his head up and down—fuckingnodding, if I didn’t know any better.

And then, I make a mistake. I get too excited. I rush. I bend to secure the cinch around his belly, I take my eyes off of him for a single idiotic second, and the next thing I know, he’s gone. As he takes off, he knocks into me, making me stumble back a few steps, but hey, at least I stay upright. At least, as he trots erratic loops around the paddock, the saddle stays on.

“That’s enough.”

Glancing in the direction of the low command that doesn’t come from my brother or either of my sisters or anyone with any kind of authority over me at all, I squint at the ranch hand leaning against the paddock fence. Two palms braced against a log. Jaw cocked.

My smile goes nowhere. “I can do better.”

Before Finn can get another word out, I break into a run. Channeling the past version of myself who did four-hundred-meter sprints for fun, I chase the stallion down. And with a deep breath and a little prayer and a whole lot of lunacy, I make my move.

Honestly, I don’t know how I do it. I knowhow, I know the steps, I know I used to practice running mounts until I could do them in my sleep. I just don’t know how I do it with Ruin. I don’t know how I manage to match his pace and grab the saddle pommel and time it just right to haul myself up without breaking my neck. I don’t know why Ruin doesn’t immediately lose his shit the second my ass hits supple leather.

I don’t know why he lets me ride for one, two, three,four lapsof the paddock before deciding he’s had enough.

It doesn’t matter that I saw the buck coming—I still hit the ground hard.

It doesn’t matter that I’ve fallen off a hundred horses—it still hurts like a bitch.

It doesn’t matter that I fell at all—I rode Ruin.

I fucking rode Ruin.

Vaguely, through the raspy sound of my own minorly pained, majorly delusional laughter, I hear someone yell my name. The screech of the paddock gate unlocking. Heavy footsteps pounding across the dirt before two cautious hands glide over my cheeks “Are you okay?”

Still laughing, I prop myself up on my elbows and knock Finn’s probing touch away. “I’m fine.”

“Did you hit your head?”

Yeah, but I’m not going to tell him that.

“Honey, what hurts?”

My tailbone. My left hip. Something warm and uncomfortable radiates between my elbow and my shoulder and, as luck would have, guess which ankle twisted in a way it isn’t meant to?

“I’m fine.” I bat Finn away again, I laugh again, I tilt my face towards the sky and I fuckingcackle. “Seriously.”

How can I not be? I rode Ruin.

I rode Ruin. Three words run around my head in a continuous, gleeful loop, the same way Ruin circles the paddock once again. I think I say them aloud too—I think Igaspthem.

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