Mariano cut his eyes to me before they went back to the road. “Tell me.”
His was still hard with tension. He was not messing around when he said he would not wait long for the truth. I could not hide from him. Giving it one more shot, I smiled at him. “Or would that confuse his hair?Ba da doo…” I pretended to make the sound that goes along with a cringy joke, drumsticks and all.
He gave me a narrow look.
“Not good?” I opened my hands. “Romeo’s hair would be confused—from the flip? It would be turned upside down…”
“The truth,” he said. “That would be fucking great.”
I released a breath and steeled myself as I told him a version of the truth. A version that would not cause a bloody battle.
The ranch not being in the black—money wise. How Atta thought having upgraded stalls would be good for the horses and revenue. How Rattler and family had always wanted a portionof Watt land. How they were going to go after it, knowing it was going into foreclosure. It was the only reason they were back in town.
“They left,” Mariano said, the wheels spinning behind his eyes.
He was smart. Too smart. He had an intuition that almost felt unmatched, especially when it came to me. I could not lie about this.
“Yes, they did, years ago.” I took a breath. “The parents never left, but the sons did. They were accused of murder.”
A week after the night from hell, a woman had been found on their land, frozen, the bottom of her feet full of fang holes. Law enforcement could never prove it was Rattler and his brothers. Rattler had claimed he had sex with the woman, but that was the last time he saw her.
They left town right after.
They had gotten away with it.
“Rattler,” he repeated.
“Rattler,” I forced myself to repeat.
He glanced at me. Brought his eyes back to the road. “Tell me why you were so panicked when you pulled what you thought was a snake in at the lake. Little phases you, besides horses.” He rolled his shoulders.
The equivalent of anoh fuckmoment. He sensed the truth.
“Because…it was a snake.” The end of that response sounded like a question.
“Horses don’t like snakes either.”
My eyes narrowed on his face.
“You love the scent of apples,” he said, answering the look.
“So do horses?”
“Esattamente,” he said,exactly,precisely, as if that explained everything.
“Explain to me what you are saying, Mariano.”
“You’re the mare I’ve always raced to.”
“I am a horse?”
“The mare to my feral.”
“The lioness to your lion?”
“Yeah,” he said. “And I fucking hunt for you only.”
I held my breath, turning away from him and toward the cracked window. I lowered it all the way down so fresh air would circulate through the cab, hoping he did not hear the release of my breath. It was thick, heavy, one that was stuck deep in my chest. It came from a place of unrest.
