The air felt wrong.
I left the rail and headed for the warm-up alley. Riders called out greetings, a blur of faces and motion. My eyes skimmed every corner, looking for a flash of her braid or the red and green of her shirt. Nothing.
Lady pawed the ground, ears flicking back toward the holding pens. When I reached for his reins, my boot brushed something half-buried in the churned dirt—Kristin’s scarf. The red one, she never went anywhere without.
Cold shot through me.
I started running.
The sound of the crowd faded behind me as I pushed through the gate toward the holding area. The air back there smelled of sweat and hay, the floodlights throwing long shadows through the panels. Somewhere, a horse kicked against the wall.
Then I saw her.
Josh had one hand around her arm, dragging her toward the far corner by the feed bins. Her boots scraped the ground, her shoulders twisted as she tried to pull free.
“Kristin.”
Her head jerked up. The terrified, wild look in her eyes snapped every thought from my mind.
I hit the gate, and it slammed open against the boards. Josh turned, grin sharp under the brim of his hat.
“Should have known you’d be close.”
“Let her go.”
He tightened his grip and took another step back, pulling her with him. “You need to back off.”
I closed the distance before he could finish. My shoulder drove into his chest. We hit the dirt hard, a tangle of limbs and dust. He swung once, wild, but I was already inside his reach. The sound of the crowd roared somewhere far away, the rest of the world narrowing to the space between us.
Kristin broke free and stumbled toward the fence.
“Go,” I shouted.
She backed up until she hit the wall, still shaking.
Footsteps pounded behind me. Kipp. Nash. Griffin. Ryder. The rest of the crew had seen enough.
Josh looked around, breathing hard, sweat streaking the dust on his face. The noise from the arena covered everything: the announcer calling the winning rider, the crowd cheering, the band warming up. He had nowhere left to go.
“End of the line,” Kipp said.
Josh swung again, desperate, and I caught his arm before he could land it, twisting it behind him, his bones crunching under the pressure. I pushed him back into the corner. The metal fence shuddered with the impact.
That was the last thing he tried.
The others closed in. The sounds that followed were quick and final, lost under the roar of the crowd and the pounding hooves of the next run.
When I turned back, Kristin was on the ground, shaking, her wrists bound together by his rope. I dropped beside her.
“It’s over,” I said. “You’re safe.” Fumbling with the rope, I finally got it free.
Her breath hitched. “I tried to call for you, but the noise and there was no service.” She kept shaking her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“I know. He won’t bother us again.”
Her eyes searched mine, waiting for something she could believe. I brushed the dirt from her cheek and helped her to her feet.
Behind us, the others moved without a word. Griffin gave me one look, steady and sure. It was done, he wouldn't be a problem for anyone again.
