Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I frowned at him from under the brim of my hat. “I’m going to need it much sooner than that.”
Mr. Marsden waved off a fly. “Like I said. The Missus—”
“I’ll be paying cash. We can close on a deal tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? Sir—”
“I’ll hire a moving company to take out anything your wife might want.”
He squinted over at me like he was trying to calculate something behind his eyes. A breeze blew past, shaking the leaves in the tall oaks. The scent of far-off honeysuckle came through the air, the same type I’d smelled last night outside Max’s little barn.
I liked that honeysuckle smell.
I fucking liked everything about last night.
Taking down Lily’s brother outside was almost… comfortable. Too comfortable.
It was the only slice of something like violence I’d gotten so far here, and the craving was almost too enormous to handle. Max had seemed scared, but when we were on the ground, I could see the same streak of craving in him that I saw in myself. He enjoyed it. Some part of it. Even if he’d turn blue in the face denying it.
He liked getting physical.
I’d wanted more.
I’d wanted to pin him down again.
Coax more precum from that thick, desperate cock I’d gotten a glimpse of through his pants.
Watch him try and fail to break free.
Find out what else got his blood pumping.
I stopped that line of thinking.
No need to make that type of mistake yet.
“Cash, huh?” Mr. Marsden said, peering at me.
“Cash.”
He looked down at the weeds on the lawn. “Well, maybe that could speed up the process.”
“Mr. Marsden, I’m ready to give you double the asking price in cash to get this place as soon as possible.”
“Hah,” he said, then realized I wasn’t joking. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lyons. But may I ask why you want this old junk heap of a place badly enough to pay double and need it that fast?”
I clicked my tongue. “Not much of a salesman, are you?”
He shrugged. “Well, no, I’m not, if you want the truth. I’m honest.”
“I think people down here are a little too honest.”
He nodded, reaching in his pocket and pulling out another cigarette. “Maybe true,” he said, leaning over and lighting it, the flame flickering in the breeze.“Maybe true.”
I gazed out over the plot of land. Right now the grass was seriously overgrown and dotted with dandelions all over, and the stall barn that apparently used to hold two horses was long since abandoned, the wood fence around it falling down in parts.
Looks like a place to run away to.
“You kept horses?” I asked. “Back when your family lived here?”
“Oh, yes, I always keep horses,” Mr. Marsden said. “We moved to our new property over six years ago now, took the horses along with us.”
“How many did you keep here?”
“Two. Three, before my daughter took hers out to Memphis with her,” he said, nodding over at the stables. “I always keep horses. State of the world how it is right now, I need to ride. Keeps me from… hatin’ everything. You know.”
I pulled in a slow breath. “True words.”
He kept his gaze on me. “You ride?”
“I do.”
Sometimes, riding is the only place I am myself.
On Veil’s saddle, her black coat shining under the blue sky, I’m calm.
I’m not calm anywhere else.
In a fight, I use rage like a dirty burning fuel, an animal uncaged and desperate to win.
In bed, desire coils around me like a snake.
It’s a steady tightening grip. A chokehold.
A need for release, a need for lust, a need for power. I want to see that look in another person’s eyes when they realize there is nowhere in the world they’d rather be than with me. Under me. Above me. Inside me, or letting me push inside them.
For my whole life, I’d always felt… charged.
Like I was the human embodiment of a stormcloud, ready to crack into lightning at any instant. At any touch, whether it was violent or sexual.
But on the back of a horse? I was nothing like that.
It was the truest peace I’d known.
And I’d needed that peace, growing up with parents like mine.
When you can’t escape your cage, you’re forced to find the only ways toward peace that are available.
Mr. Marsden sighed loudly, cutting through my thoughts. “Well, if you want,” he said, looking over at the stables, “I can refer you to my friend Rick Denton, over past the highway. He has a riding mare available for sale as we speak. Not all that young, but she’s a good one. Rick can’t ride anymore. I’ll put in a good word for you, especially if you’re payin’ cash.”
The storm inside me seemed to quiet, just for a moment, like brief sun passing through clouds.
“I’d like that,” I told him.
“Well, any other questions?”
The air suddenly smelled sweet and fresh. Not just honeysuckle. Over by the edge of the porch, I spotted a row of rose bushes along the front edge of the patio, in full bloom. The same crimson red as the tattoo on my wrist.