CHAPTER 6 #2

“I don’t want to go back there either. If I’m that close, my mother and grandmother will try to talk me into racing again.”

“You don’t want to?”

“No. I’m done. I’m retired. I haven’t gotten on the back of another horse since the accident.” Her hand moves to the scar on her forehead.

Andi

After we talk a little longer, I kiss him goodbye and head out of his office. His receptionist gives me a knowing look, but I don’t say anything. I know he hasn’t talked to Striker yet because I haven’t been confronted.

I head back to campus after realizing I forgot to check my mail, and my mom texted while I was having lunch with Callum. She said my counselor wants me to fill out some forms so I can transfer my care to the campus psychologist.

My mother and I talk at least once a week.

I do love her a lot. I just don’t want what she wants for me anymore.

She’s not even forty and raised my sister and me.

Half my life she did it mostly by herself.

She loves me for more than my riding, but I was living her dream.

She and my dad got pregnant with me before they were married.

She was going for the championship that year, but missed it because of me.

I park and make my way to my building. I’m almost to the doors when I hear the catcall whistle.

“Woohoo! Look at those legs.”

I turn to see Lennox walking up. She’s either coming from the commons or the library. You can set Greenwich time by her, she’s that scheduled. She isn’t working in the admissions office this week because of spring break.

I preen and pose, showing a little more leg through the slit. “I know I’m a fine specimen.” I giggle, and she rushes up, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

“What would I do without you?” She laughs, and I wrap an arm around her too.

“Be bored for the rest of your life.”

She scoffs. “You ain’t joking there.”

We step inside the building, and I head to the mailboxes with her following.

She leans against the wall as I pull out my key and open my box.

A few letters fall out, but a thick card envelope drops to the floor.

It’s bright red, and I freeze. I’ve gotten one like this before, and I don’t want to open it.

This right here is why I’m having nightmares again, why I need to talk to someone.

I try to slip it into my bag to open later, but Lennox grabs it.

“What’s this? Is he sending you romantic cards now?”

“No. It’s nothing.”

I reach for it, but she pulls it back and rips it open.

The first picture makes her to gasp, and the envelope falls as we both look down.

Images of me liter the floor. Callum and me outside Striker and Lia’s house in the chair making love.

Raine lying in the dirt, blood gushing from her hoof.

Finally, a picture of me lying broken and bleeding, blood on my face.

“Oh my God,” she exclaims, bending down to pick them up.

I see the picture in her hand, and the tears don’t stop.

Me, hanging halfway down Raine’s body, heading for her hooves.

I can see the terror on my face as I realize I’m about to be trampled by my beloved horse.

One arm is reaching up to cover my face, the other braced against my chest. A scream is caught on film as I know what’s about to happen.

I cry out, drop everything from arms, and press my hands to my face, making sure I’m still alive.

“Holy fuck.” Lennox jumps up and pulls me into her arms. “Why are you getting these?”

“I-I don’t know.” My hand flies to my mouth as nausea rises. “I’m going to be sick.” I rush from the building and lean over the rail, puking into the bushes.

The last one I got was just a note with one picture. The note said, “Some champion,” and the image was a black-and-white shot of me lying in the dirt.

Lennox wraps her arms around me. “We need to call someone?”

“No.” I pull up so fast my head spins. I wait until I’m not seeing double before adding, “I can handle this. It’s probably some fan.”

“A fan. A fucking fan.” Lennox’s voice rises, and I notice her clutching a piece of paper. I grab it from her hand and realize why she suggested we call someone.

You’ll never move on. I won’t let you forget until you are completely forgotten.

The words are cut out from magazines, and it’s signed by someone calling themselves Conscience in large, scrolling letters, all loopy.

“Okay, maybe we should.” I pull the picture of Callum and me from the batch and hold the rest as my watch beeps. “Shit. I have to go get Jude. I’ll call you later, once I figure out who to contact.”

Taking all my mail from her hands, I run back to my truck.

For the first time in months, I feel disconcerted, like someone is watching me.

The whole way to the private school, I nibble my lip, trying to figure out who to call, what to do.

I don’t want to worry Lia and Striker. They have so much on their hands.

If I tell my mom or Jon, they’ll make me come home. I don’t know anyone to call.

I start thinking about everything Lia just went through, and one name keeps floating through my head. I know who to call. I met her at the baby shower, and I remember her saying she’s in security.

By the time I pull up to Jude’s school, I have a plan. I park and text her as I wait for him. She says I can stop by her office now. I tell her I’m waiting for Jude to get out of practice, then I’ll be over. Hopefully, she doesn’t tell Striker what I’m doing.

“Hey, Auntie,” Jude says as he jumps into my truck.

“Hey, kiddo. I have to make a stop on our way home. Okay?”

“Sure. No problem. Coach wants me to go over some plays.”

“What time does city league practice start again?” I don’t know how Lia keeps up with everything. Running her own business, being a mother, and being a sports mom.

“It’s tomorrow at noon until three.”

“Got it.”

We head further into town. Ridley’s office is in the same area as the salon. I pull up to the building that had to be renovated after an explosion took out Lia’s car months ago.

I glance at Jude. I’m not sure I want him to know what’s going on.

“Do you want to wait here or come in?”

“I can come in and wait.” I notice him tremble as he looks around. I didn’t even think of the memories coming back here could cause him.

“Okay.”

We head into the building, and I’m looking over my shoulder. The fact that the person had a picture of Callum and me tells me this person isn’t just a fan, they’re a stalker.

We go inside and head up to the office floor. When we step off the elevator, Ridley is waiting for us.

“Hello, Jude. How are you doing? Enjoying being a big brother?” Ridley makes small talk with him.

She starts moving along the walkway. The center is open, giving me a view of the floor we entered, a large garage filled with vehicles, and several rooms. This floor also has several glassed-in offices. She moves toward a conference room and grabs a remote.

“Here you go, kiddo. Watch whatever you want. Just no porn. Striker would kick my ass.” She chuckles. “Although I’d have to let him, because we both know I’m the better fighter.” She laughs harder at her joke. “Come on, Andi.” She leads me back the way we came to an office.

She moves to sit at a desk, and I look around. I’m so nervous. I don’t know what to do.

“Take a seat,” she says.

I sit down in one of the chairs and try to take several calming breaths.

“Before we begin, can we keep this between us? I don’t want Striker or Lia to worry. Unless you tell me that Jude is in danger, then I’ll tell them and step back.”

“What are we talking about here?” She leans forward and rests her arms on the desk.

“Let me back up and explain some past things before I give you the reason I’m here today.”

“Okay.”

“About fifteen months ago, so a year ago this past December, I was in the World Championship Rodeo in Las Vegas. I was competing as a barrel racer.”

“I know. I saw the accident. When you called, I looked you up.”

“Okay, well…” I pause.

No one knows this next part except me and my immediate family. Not even Lia knows. I work my lip, trying to get out the truth.

“It wasn’t an accident.”

I wait, but she doesn’t seem to comprehend it at first. When she does, her whole body stance changes.

“Holy shit! You were sabotaged?”

“Yes. Every strap on my saddle was tampered with.”

She leans back and looks up at the ceiling as the reality hits her. “Let me guess, the police have no clue, so it’s still open and cold by now. I can look into that, no problem. But why don’t you want Striker and Amelia to know?”

I shake my head and pull out the first envelope I’ve been carrying with me. I hand it over to her. “I got this a couple of weeks ago.”

She opens it and sees the black-and-white image and the note. “Jeez, some fan is taking this too far. You didn’t turn this over to the Vegas police department, did you?”

“No, I didn’t. They haven’t figured out who’s behind it, and I wasn’t ready for my family in Indiana to find out about this. Today I got this one.” I hand over the newest envelope, minus the picture of Callum and me.

Looking into my bag, I see it, and my heart thumps. I should tell him, but we’re still so new, and I don’t want to jeopardize that.

She looks at everything, then the note, before stopping and staring at me. “There’s more you’re hiding.”

It’s not a question, and I just shake my head. I hate lying.

“No that’s it,” I finally say as she leans back, watching me like I’m a bug on the glass. “Fine. This can’t leave this room. I swear, no one can know.”

I pull the picture out, and she takes one look before her eyes widen and she looks back at me.

“Holy shit. Striker is going to kill him.”

“I’m an adult.”

“Yeah, and you’re practically Amelia’s little sister. Cowboy should have known better.”

“In his defense, he didn’t know who I was when we started.”

“Okay. But has he gone to Striker since?”

“No. Striker has enough to worry about with the boys.”

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