Enya’s breath hitched. For a second, she could almost hear Rain’s nickering, low and insistent. She could almost feel his nudge on her shoulder as if she leaned against his stall door, his warm breath puffing against her neck as he welcomed her in the morning. She could almost feel the ghost of his muscles bunching beneath her legs as he surged forward into the arena, the wind tearing at her hair, and the barrels blurring past, followed by a wave of voices cheering them on. The way he’d run for her as if nothing and no one could touch them.
But she knew better now. The echo of how Rain had screamed as the darkness pulled her under told her she wasn’t enough. They could have hurt him. She’d been too weak to stop them from taking her. If they’d wanted her boy, Rain, she wouldn’t have been able to stop them. Her hands clenched into fists, the afghan’s fringe biting into her palms.
“I can’t…”
He needs someone who can protect him.
It can’t be me anymore because I’ve proven I can’t protect myself, never mind him.
“Why not?”
The question was simple, too simple, and Enya’s throat worked, but no words came.
How do I explain it?
How do I make him understand that the fear isn’t just in my head—it’s in my soul?
How did she explain that the girl who had ridden like the wind, who had lived for the thrill of speed and the trust of a thousand-pound animal, was gone? That all that was left was this shell, this stranger who flinched at shadows and jumped at loud noises, who couldn’t even look at a saddle without feeling the despair she didn’t know how to begin to escape?
“Enya.” Her dad’s voice cracked like a whip as he clearly reached the end of his rope. “You get back on that horse tomorrow, or I swear to God, I’ll sell him myself.”
Her head snapped up. It was one thing for her to make the decision she grappled with herself, and quite another for someone to make it for her.
He wouldn’t.
He couldn’t.
But she knew he could and he would.
The rocking chair swayed behind her dad as he got to his feet. His face was a storm of emotions, but it was his eyes that found one of the few unbroken pieces inside her and took a hammer to it. His eyes were wet with emotions she didn’t want to name, yet couldn’t escape.
Disappointment.
Fear.
Grief
She couldn’t imagine the emotions that came from watching your child drown and not knowing how to pull them out, but she figured they had to be similar to the ones that came from lovingRain so much it hurt to look at him, knowing nothing would ever be the same again.
“You don’t mean that.”
She knew it was best for Rain. Hadn’t she had similar thoughts? But now that her dad had put those thoughts to words, she wasn’t ready. Would she ever be ready?
I have to be… for Rain.
“I do.” His voice was raw and filled with pain. “I’d rather see him with someone who’ll do right by him than watch you both rot.”
The screen door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing through her like a gunshot. The cold seeped into her bones, and her fingers grew numb around the edges of the afghan.
He’s right.
He’s always right.
I’m no longer fit to be Rain’s human.
I shouldn’t be here.
Everyone hurts because of me.
