I bristle at the insinuation. “I’m not fucking crazy. He took off when he saw me.”
“You know what I think?” McCrae slowly slinks down the stairs, his tattooed chest on full display as he moves into the moon light. There’s more there than I even thought possible—more of his skin black than it is white—and I can’t help but be curious about the purpose of each one. As he moves closer, I remain perfectly frozen, still aware that his right hand wields a very real gun. The moonlight catches on hundreds of small, raised silver marks dotting across his skin, and I stare in confusion.
“Santos,” he snaps.
My eyes meet his, nothing but pure disdain and distrust in his gaze. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re causing trouble for V. I think you cut the breaks on the truck—I think you wanted her to get injured farworse than she did. I think you sabotaged the a/c in the bunk house so you could move into the house. I think you planned to do something to my bike before you got caught. And I think you’re trying to weasel your way into V’s life, only to hurt her.”
I‘m careful to keep my face neutral, even as my blood runs cold.
He stands only inches away. “I can’t prove it yet, but I will.”
“How are you so sure?” I hiss.
He raises the barrel of the gun, pointing it at me for the briefest second before lowering it slightly and tapping it against the side of my neck.Right over my raging pulse.
McCrae doesn’t say another word as he backs up. He doesn’t have to.
THIRTY
VALENTINA
November 27th, 2025
FAITH: Come to Thanksgiving dinner. Just for a little while.
ME: I’d rather die.
I chew on my fingernail,looking down at the text. Maybe that was a little harsh, but the truth hurts. Still, the text bubble on Faith’s end appears and disappears, twice, and a ball of dread erupts in my stomach.
I don’t want to go—I truly would rather run off the road into a frozen river and drown—but I can’t stand the thought of Faith pitying me. Or worse, being disappointed in me.
FAITH: There’s nothing I can say to change your mind?
ME: No, but thank you for the invite.
I want to apologize for not going. I want to apologize for being the difficult, hard to stomach person I am—but I don’t. It’s a weakness.
FAITH: We will miss you.
I don’t bother responding; instead, I stuff the phone back into my pocket and look around the barn.Weis Faith and her many personalities, surely. It can’t be her and McCrae—although he’s betrayed me once more, going to this gathering without so much as inviting me himself, I know it’s not him who’ll miss me.
It’s definitely not my brother or Adalene.No way in hell.
“Here.” I pull a slice of apple from my jacket pocket, tentatively extending my hand to the chestnut-colored horse, her eyes wide but soft as she watches me. I can’t tell who’s more afraid of whom.
When she finally reaches over the gate, her velvety nose nuzzling my open palm, she swipes the apple slice. She bobs her head as she chews on the treat and then quickly returns to my still-extended hand for more.
I smile, unable to help myself. “Okay, one more.” I reach into my pocket, pulling out another slice. This time, when she takes the apple, she continues to nibble on my palm in a silent thank you.
I watch my free hand, as if outside of my own body, reach up and gently stroke the horse’s long nose. She doesn’t pull away from me, and I do it again.And then again.I’m smiling despite myself, and for the first time, I feel a modicum of comfort around the giant beasts.
“You’re not so bad after all,” I tease, and the horse whinnies, tossing her head in my direction in agreement.
It’s bizarre, playing out a conversation with a horse in my head. Being in the country has well and truly made me lose my marbles.
If I saw myself a year ago, I’d bite my head off for being happy about something so trivial. Look at me now—enjoying the simple things in life.
