He shrugs and scuffs his boot on the worn linoleum floor. I think this is the first time I’ve seen him look even remotely vulnerable. Even when he was laying in the dirt after having his world rocked by a wild horse, he still seemed strong.
“I’ve learned to live with it,” Murphy says. “It’s a part of me, and I find it easier to just go along with it. But you know what helps me? Doing things that make me feel alive. Like bull riding. And being with you, Matilda.”
I feel a flush creeping up my neck at his words. It’s almost as if he can read me like an open book. A part of me is still hesitant. Sure, being with Murphy makes me feel alive too, but I can’t shake off the feeling it might not be genuine.
“In the eight seconds I’m riding a crazed beast, I’m entirely myself. There’s no room for aura sickness when my adrenaline is pumping hard and my thoughts are filled with survival. It overrides everything else and strips all the bullshit away,” he says, scrubbing a hand through his hair.
“Damn. What I wouldn’t give to have even a few seconds where I’m completely sure it’s just me in my head,” I sigh, leaning against the cool cell bars. It’s always playing on my mind. Am I truly happy, or is it my neighbour playing backyard cricket with his kid? Am I actually sad, or is it the grieving widow four doors down? My work doesn’t help. Almost everyone who visits a hospital is feeling powerful emotions.
“I guess it means we just have to throw you on top of a bucking bull,” Murphy says, chuckling to himself.
I don’t laugh. Instead, I think.
The laughter trails off and his mega-watt grin fades away. He frowns at me and then shakes his head.
“No. Matilda, no. That was a joke.”
“But what if it works?” I say, my voice wispy and soft. “Then we’d know for sure if this is real.”
“It’s too dangerous. I won’t let you put yourself in danger,” he says and stands, his nostrils flaring. He looks beautiful even when he’s upset, which is entirely unfair.
I shrug and bite my lip. A reckless, exciting energy is pulsing through me. I lean into it and let it steer my decisions.
“Matilda, I’m serious. I’ve had years of experience and training to know how to keep a cool head in such dangerous situations. I know how to handle myself and I’m an Alpha. We’re basically built to do stupid, dangerous shit.” His voice takes on a desperate tone as he searches my face to see if I’m serious. I am.
My mind is racing and I flippantly shrug. “You can’t control what I do when you’re not looking.”
“You cheeky little–” he starts to say, and I cut him off.
“I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to find Bubbles.”
Murphy frowns. “No. Not Bubbles; that horse is a menace.”
I like that I’ve rattled him. He’s been so unflappable since we met. I like that he’s finally the one who’s off-kilter. “Who better than Bubbles to scare the pants off me until I can think straight?”
“It won’t work. You’re going to get hurt. Hell, you could be killed.”
I look through my lashes at him and appeal to his Alpha instincts. “Then you better be there to make sure it goes smoothly.”
Murphy shakes his head, but I can see my words making their impact. His need to protect me overrides his sensible thoughts and the corner of his mouth kicks up in amusement. “‘Stewth, Matilda. This is mad.”
I grin back at him, letting him get caught up in the excitement. “Yup, isn’t it thrilling?”
He takes two large strides across the cell and sweeps me up into his arms, spinning me as I cackle. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you, Spitfire?”
“Not usually, but this feels like something I have to do.”
“Fine, I’ll help you with this insane plan,” he says. “But we’re gonna do it my way.”
I’m grateful he’s on my side. It’s a stupid plan, but I need to know if what I’m feeling is real. I need the physical rush like Murphy described. I need the adrenaline pumping through my veins to be sure my emotions are my own.
Ready or not, I’ve got a date with a wild, bucking horse.
Nine
Matilda
Afewhourslater,Officer Link sets us free, giving us a stern lecture on the consequences of our public display. Despite his attempt to appear serious, a hint of amusement plays on his face. I catch him giving Murphy a clap on the back, accompanied by a low-toned remark, “I’m happy for ya, mate.”
