“Is there anyone in the vehicle?”
“I’m not sure, it’s pretty dark. The hazards aren’t on or anything.” I keep peering into the yard, expecting to see someone running toward the house.
“Do you think the vehicle has been abandoned?” He sounds bored.
“I don’t think so. It looked like a nice car or SUV. It might have been a Jeep or something.”
“Unless the car’s been abandoned, there’s really not much we can do.”
“Well, it’s blocking my mailbox, and it’s on a dangerous part of the road. I’m worried there’s someone inside. It might cause an accident.”
“What’s your address, ma’am?” he asks flatly.
“32059 Godferson,” I tell him quickly. “It just… It doesn’t feel right.”
“We’ll send someone out to have a look,” he tells me like he’s just indulging me.
“Okay, please do.” I hit end when the line goes dead. So much for a relaxing night off.
I’m halfin the ditch and half on the shoulder of the road in front of her house. There are no streetlights, so it’s pitch-black, other than the lights of an occasional random car passing by. I’m just about to get out and make my usual hike up to her house to make sure she’s where I want her when I see the headlights of a car driving in my direction.
I look to the right to stop the glare and end up seeing her. She’s on top of a huge fucking horse. My heart thumps hard in my chest. What the fuck is she doing on that thing?
My windows are tinted dark enough that I don’t have to worry about my phone lighting up the interior when I dial Winger. “Call her now,” I growl into the phone. No one other than him knows about my obsession. I would probably kill anyone else who found out.
“What’s wrong?” There’s worry in his tone. He actually likes her, and Winger hardly tolerates anyone. He’s almost as bad as me. I don’t know if he’s concerned I might do something to her or worried about her general wellbeing.
“Get her on the phone now. Find out what the fuck she’s doing.”
“She might not answer unless I use this line,” he warns me.
“Fucking fine. I’ll call the club line. Put us both on speaker so I can hear,” I demand and hang up.
When he picks up the line, he doesn’t speak to me, but I can hear a phone ringing, so he must be calling her. “Hello?” she almost whispers. As many times as I’ve snuck into her house and watched her sleep, I’ve hardly ever heard her speak.
“What are you doing?” Winger rushes out.
“I’m not at work.” I can just imagine the bow of her lips turned down in a frown. I watch her driveway, but she’s no longer there. Did she head back? Winger continues to question her, making up some shit about having side work for her. I told him just to give her money, I have more than enough, but she likes to be a thorn in my side and refuse.
She makes some shuffling noise, and Winger asks, “What are you doing?”
“Dismounting my horse. Sorry,” she answers smoothly. There’s a breath where Winger goes quiet. I shove my palm into my eyes to try and get the image of her riding me instead out of my head, but I can’t.
“Rex,” Winger growls, calling me by the name I earned. It means king. “I have her muted. What do you want me to say?”
“I wanted her off the fucking beast. It’s like she lives to piss me off,” I snarl.
“Maybe, if she actually knew you existed.”
“Fuck off.”
“Keep your shirt on. Let me get this off,” she says softly like she’s speaking to a lover.
“Whoever that is, they are dead.” I get out of the car and jog up the driveway, not caring if anyone sees me.
“Who are you talking to?” Winger demands. He sounds pissed.
“Nobody,” she tells him, but I fucking heard her.
