Page 14 of Unmasked Rivalry
He leaves, each step echoing in the empty house, and I let myself lean against the fresh, patched wall, heart skipping around in my chest. I think about his tattoos, his effortless power, the way he never tries to make himself likable. He is who he is, and he doesn't apologize for it.
The problem is, who he is, is my cousin’s man and not mine.
He’ll never be mine.
I need to put my mind back into finishing this house and getting the hell out of here.
4
Iwake up the next morning and, for a minute, relish the fact that I actually got some sleep last night. Now I’m not terrified of the creatures coming for me when the sun goes down. The air mattress isn’t comfortable, but it’s a hell of a lot better than my car.
The sun is rising in a blinding, perfect square through the window, illuminating every speck of floating dust, and I can hear the cows somewhere beyond the house. I lay there for a minute, preparing myself for the day ahead. I have so much to do, and it feels like I’m not getting anywhere.
Exhaling, I force myself up and tug on what I think is a clean pair of shorts. Then I grab the work boots I unearthed from the barn, tie my hair up with a rubber band, and head out to see if I can befriend Daisy before starting my day. I am determined for this cow to like me, even if every single time I approach her, she looks murderous.
As suspected, Daisy, the demon cow, is waiting right by the gate.
I freeze. She freezes. Her eyes, which are neither warm nor soulful but rather calculating and faintly iridescent, narrow at me. I know she remembers pinning me in the barn. I know she’s plotting another attack. She’s not going to get the upper hand this time. No sir.
“I have bread for you,” I say, waving it in her face.
She snorts, jerking back, like I am the scum of the earth.
“Fine,” I snap, giving it to a nosy cow who sidles up beside her. “Another day you miss out.”
I go through a gate far enough away that she can’t charge me, doing my usual checks on food and water for the cows. I am about to turn and head to the house when I notice something in the paddock by the road. Three fence wires twist-sprung apart, their ends curling back like angry fingers. The posts, which should be snug in the clay, have been pried loose.
What the hell.
I approach, and as I do, I can see that this fence hasn’t come apart on its own; it has been cut and destroyed. I kneel in the dust, scanning for something, anything. My mind flashes with twenty possibilities, but the one that sticks is Cupp. Ralston Cupp. The creep with the used-car-salesman smile, the one who’d asked if I was alone out here. Maybe he didn’t like being told no.
Shit. My stomach knots.
Before panic can fully settle in, my phone pings.
Knox - You make it through another night?
Me - I’m not one for losing. I’ll make it through, and you’ll hear about it. Right now, I need assistance...
Knox - What now? Rogue snake? Feral rats? A runaway cow?
I huff, unable to stop the smile.
Me - Worse. Someone cut my fences.
It takes him a minute to reply.
Knox - On my way.
I tuck my phone away and look again at the fence, the way the wire is splayed open. I take a photo, send it to Knox. And then, because I refuse to sit around until he arrives, I walk the rest of the fence line, Daisy watching my every step, ready to make her move.
By the time I get back to the gate, there’s dust curling up the lane—Knox’s truck, unmistakable. When the engine cuts, the passenger door swings wide, and out steps a girl who could be ahuman Instagram filter: platinum-blonde, lips pumped up to the hills, breasts bigger than both of mine put together, and an outfit that makes me question whether I should have dressed a little better today.
Knox comes around the hood and says nothing, just stares at the fence, his eyes narrowed. The girl comes over to me, big smile on her face, bite marks on her neck that I just know he made. Gross.
“Hey,” she says. “I’m Reese.”
Reese says it like she expects a compliment or applause.
