Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Another week and another set of unanswered questions. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. My father’s face smiled down at me from his picture above the fire opposite my desk. I met him square in the eyes and said, “I don’t know where to go from here, Dad.” A lump clogged my throat, and I had to clear it just to rasp out, “I feel like I’m failing you.” I rubbed my forehead, trying to keep a hold on my emotions. “I feel like I’m failing the whole family.”
Of course, my father didn’t appear to console me, to reassure me. Because he was taken from us two years ago. It was deemed an accident by those at the scene, but anyone who saw that wreck knew it wasn’t. My father was killed, and I had no idea who did it—or why.
I steepled my hands and stared down at the ever-thickening file I’d been studying for months. Pictures and leads that ultimately had only led to dead ends. Whoever was doing this to us was good and knew how to cover their tracks to perfection.
I closed my eyes again. I was so tired, but insomnia was now my closest friend. I’d have given anything to sleep through just one single night. I spent every hour of every day like a bloody ghost, running through every person that could have a vendetta against my family in my head. (News flash: There were a lot.) Questioning how and why somebody was doing this and how the fuck I could stop it.
A knock sounded on my office door, ripping me from my downward spiral. I sat up and ran my hand through my hair, trying to at least look like I’d had some shut-eye of late. “Come in,” I called, already knowing who it’d be.
As predicted, Forrest, my cousin and best friend, came through. He silently moved to the bar at the side of the room and poured us both two fingers of Oban, our favorite whisky.
Forrest sat down opposite me and placed my glass down on the desk. “Nothing new?” he asked. I shook my head and knocked back my whisky in one.
“Shit, Jas,” he said and tutted at me like I was a misbehaving toddler. “Respect the scotch, will you? You’re not a heathen.”
I rubbed my lips together as the Oban burned the back of my throat. I blew out a long sigh. “I don’t know where the fuck to go from here, Cousin.” It pained me to admit that. But this was Forrest. The one person I did open up to. He was the closest to me in age and a lot like me in personality too. We grew up together, side by side, and he’d pretty much been keeping me going these past couple of years when everything went to shit. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen some hard times with his parents too.
Forrest sat back in his chair. “You need to step away from this for a while, Jas. It’s consuming you.”
I glared at my cousin. “My father is dead. My sister is injured, one of our best horses was drugged, and I just know something else is coming our way. So forgive me if I don’t want to ‘step away for a while,’ Forrest.”
“Don’t, Jas. Don’t act like I don’t give a fuck,” he said measuredly, but his green eyes flashed with anger. Forrest may have looked calm and collected on the outside, but he had the bite of a pit bull if he was pushed too far.
All ire seeped from my body, and I sagged in my seat. “I’m sorry,” I said, and meant it. Forrest’s eyes lost their heat too. “I haven’t slept in what feels like months, and I’m all in my head.”
Forrest leaned forward. “You don’t sleep ever, Jas. I see you haunting the grounds at every hour God sends. You never see your family anymore. Barely show your face in public. You look a mess.” Forrest flicked his hand at my overgrown stubble and unkempt, crinkled clothing. “And worse, you’ve completely given up on everything you love, on any kind of life, just to chase answers we may never get.”
“Not again, Forrest. I’m sick of hearing it,” I said.
Forrest shook his head, exasperated, and I knew he was about to let me have it. “You were at the top of the game! You were already smashing what people believed were unbreakable records. You were going to be the greatest show jumper of all time. All time, Jas. Only to throw it away for seclusion in this depressing, dark office, which has turned into your personal prison.” Forrest sighed. “You want answers. We all do. But we don’t want to lose you in the process.” Forrest’s green eyes bored into me. “We’ve already lost far too much.”