Page 15 of Dark Things
I hear him banging around on the other side of thestall 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 toTom. 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 laneto 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.
