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)
“Fuck, Jas,” Forrest said. I heard my office chair creaking and knew he’d sat down. “No more,” Forrest said after a while. I hadn’t even asked him what the letters said. It would be the same old bullshit. I’m going to destroy you, your family, and everything you love . . .
“You’re not dealing with this on your own anymore,” Forrest said. “We’re telling my brothers and Leon. If it must stop there, fine. We can keep this from Genny if you want. But we all need to do this together. You shouldn’t have been shouldering this alone.”
My vision blurred and I realized moisture had flooded my eyes. My throat was clogged, and as tears fell down my cheeks, all I could see was the blurred lights of the arena in the distance.
Hallie.
She had been the one bright spot in this shit show of a year. The night in the trailer . . . I wiped the tears from my cheeks. Fuck, that night . . . I couldn’t stop reliving it. The way she responded to me so well. How she tasted, felt, sounded . . .
She’d made me forget. For that window of time being inside her, I’d forgotten everything but her.
“We’ll get through this, Jas,” Forrest said quietly, and it was obvious he knew I’d just broken down, turned in on myself as I always did.
“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll . . .” I took a deep breath. “I’ll call later. I’m going to . . .” I trailed off.
“Go watch them,” Forrest said, interrupting my spiral. “This is our fucking world, Cousin. Some arsehole with a chip on his shoulder isn’t going to take all we love from us.” I nodded again, like he could see me all the way from England. Forrest was right; I’d been running for so fucking long. That wasn’t the Knighton way. We faced things head-on.
I ended the call and left, feeling a little lighter. But only one person would make my heavy thoughts completely lift. Will, my new personal security guard, nodded at me and followed me down the elevator and into my private car.
As the night lights of Doha passed me by, my leg bounced. The minute I got to the arena, I went to the private box that Abdul had set aside for me. I arrived just in time to see Sage clear the final fence. I looked to the scoreboard. Four faults—she’d knocked down a pole on fence five. Atticus had gotten a clear round with a great time. He was killing it.
“Next, representing the Knighton Cavaliers, is Hallie Oakley of Ocala, Florida, US, riding Lord Huxley!” the commentator announced, and something inside of my fucking dark soul was soothed as she trotted out on Huxley. The entire team was wearing olive-green KE show jackets. I moved to the very edge of the box, ignoring a few nearby whispers of my name from the stands.
Hallie picked up a canter, and I couldn’t take my eyes from her. Her shoulders were relaxed, and her fluidity held a grace that every equestrian would be jealous of.
She was born to ride.
The horn sounded and Hallie jumped the first fence. I folded my arms over my chest. With every obstacle, my body strained to jump the fences with her. The entire time she tackled the course, I barely breathed. As she approached the final fence, every muscle in my body grew taut.
When Huxley landed, a perfect clear in his wake, I fought back the smile that was forcing itself onto my face. The camera focused on Hallie, and my heart stopped dead. Fuck, but she was stunning. She was smiling wide and speaking to Huxley. She showered him with praise and kissed his neck. She was a true horsewoman. Praised the horse after a round, just like I did Henry. Believed in the fifty-fifty partnership that was horse and rider in this sport.
I watched her as she left the arena and wanted nothing more than to go to her in the stalls, pull her to me, and kiss the fuck out of her. I could still taste strawberries on my lips. But instead of running to meet her in the barn, I retreated into the privacy of the box and sat down on the plush leather sofa, staring at nothing as the remainder of the riders jumped their rounds.
If I’d been asked who’d ridden, I wouldn’t have been able to say. All I knew was at the end of the competition, our team placed third. The trophies were handed out, and that brought an end to the Grand Prix at Doha. But I didn’t move. As the spectators filed out and the tractors and workers appeared to clear the jumps and rake the ring, I still stayed seated.
The truth was, I didn’t dare move. If I did, I would head straight for Hallie and damn the consequences. I’d pull her to me and kiss her. I’d stake my fucking claim. My soul knew she was mine and mine alone, but . . . fuck. I was sick of this roller coaster between wanting her and feeling like I was putting her in danger. But the letters were still coming; the attacks, and the thought of seeing her pinned under Huxley the way I’d had to see Genny, was unbearable.