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)
Multicolored city lights stared back at me, my reflection coming into focus in the full-length window. The place was stunning, but all I could see, think of, and hear was Hallie. We hadn’t spoken about where we go from here. It should be just one night. It had to be. But I was being a pussy and couldn’t bring myself to say that to her. Or bear to hear it if she agreed.
I felt like fucking screaming. I ran my hand down my face. “I fucked her,” I suddenly blurted into my phone and was met with a wall of hard silence from my cousin. I cleared my throat, waiting for Forrest to speak.
“I’m assuming you mean Hallie?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Shit, Jas,” he said and sighed. “And what? Now she wants more, and you don’t?”
I laughed a sardonic laugh. I wish that was true. “Not quite,” I said, and Forrest was silent once more until . . .
“Shit. You want more.” My head dropped onto the glass, and I closed my eyes. I gripped my phone so hard the plastic creaked under my hold. “Jas?”
“I don’t know!” I said a bit too loudly. Lowering my voice, I said, “I don’t fucking know, okay? It can’t happen. I know it can’t. I’m too old for her, too fucked up, don’t want to put her in the center of the gossip mill, and don’t want to put her in danger with all the shite that we’re facing at home. There’s a million fucking reasons why this can’t be more than one night.”
“Jas,” Forrest said after several silent seconds. “I get what you’re saying. But I think you’re being too hard . . .”
“No,” I snapped. “Do not give me permission. Do not give me the excuse I need to seek her out again.” I clenched my hand into a fist. “I’ve managed to stay away these past few days, forced myself to. She’s too fucking pure for our life. Too innocent to get wrapped up in all our family drama.”
“She’s a twenty-five-year-old woman who can make her own damn decisions, Jas. Let her decide what she wants to do. How much does she know about everything?”
“Not much,” I said.
“For fuck’s sake, Jas. Is this how you’re going to live your life? Alone and rejecting anything you like, want, or love because you’re scared?”
“Of course I’m fucking scared!” I shouted. “My dad is dead, Genny can’t walk, Dahlia was a championship-winning horse who now can’t even accept a lead rope around her neck. I’m getting threatening letters almost daily, and—”
“You’re what?!” Forrest interrupted.
Shit. I replayed what I’d just said, and my stomach fell.
“You better tell me what the fuck you’re talking about, right now,” Forrest said, calmly, but I recognized my cousin’s ice-cold tone. I opened my eyes and defeat ran through me. I was sick and tired of doing all this alone. “Jasper,” Forrest pushed.
“I didn’t want to worry you all,” I said, voice hushed but strained. I moved to my bed and slumped down on the end. Forrest waited for me to continue. Sighing, I said, “I’ve been getting letters sent to me for a while now. Threatening letters,” I confessed.
“Where are they?” Forrest said, and I could hear him moving around the house.
“In a hidden drawer in the desk in my study. Above the top drawer there’s a secret latch where I’ve stashed them.”
“Where’s the key?” Forrest said minutes later, and I knew he was in my study, looking for a way to open it. I told him, and I heard the rustling of papers.
“Fuck, Jas,” Forrest said after a few tense minutes. “Why the hell didn’t you say something?”
“You’ve all gone through enough,” I said.
“And you haven’t?” Forrest snapped. He took a deep breath. “Has Phillip seen these? Tried to trace them?”
“Yeah, but he couldn’t find anything,” I said.
“You have a pile of new mail.” By the sound of shuffling paper, I knew Forrest was rummaging through those too. I waited until Forrest spat, “Motherfucker!”
“How many?” I asked. Even to my own ears I sounded exhausted.
“Three,” Forrest said. I could hear paper in his hands. “Why the fuck are they targeting you? What the hell have you done?”
“No idea,” I said, and dropped my head. “For a long time, I thought it was McGowen. But I don’t think that anymore. As much as I hate the prick, he’s turned his stud around after his dad nearly ruined them, and he’s winning more now I’m not on the circuit.”
“That’s exactly why he could be the one responsible,” Forrest said. “To keep you from competing so he can clean up all the prize money.”
I shook my head. “Phillip said he’s clean. It isn’t him.” I could feel a headache building at the base of my skull. “I suspect Alexis Hobbs, as do the Franklins, but again, Phillip found nothing on her, and without evidence, we have nothing.” I hated Alexis, believed she was capable of sabotaging stud farms up and down the country. But the evidence suggested otherwise. “We have no idea who it could be, Forrest. They’re completely untraceable.”