Chapter 8
The setting sun was warm on my skin, and the air carried a breeze that flowed through my hair.
My head tilted skyward, and I couldn’t stop the smile on my face as the last moments of daylight slipped away.
Taking a deep breath, I let the scent of grass and early autumn and everything falling into place fill my lungs.
This was my favorite time of year. When the days were warm and the nights were cool. When pumpkin spice lattes were back in season, and it was socially acceptable to rewatch Gilmore Girls for the millionth time.
“It feels so nice out, doesn’t it, girlie?” I ran my hands along Willow’s neck up to her ears as we rode back to the stables. I gave her some good scratches behind her ears, and she threw her head around, loving it and making me laugh.
I swung my leg over her, getting down to give her a treat.
But the moment my feet hit the ground, a loud crash echoed from inside the stables.
My heart slammed to a halt in my chest. I ran towards the commotion, stopping short when I saw Emmett in the tack room.
It was trashed. Emmett at the center of it all.
He was breathing hard, hands curling and uncurling at his sides.
“What the fuck, Emmett?!” I screeched, taking in all the damage.
There was feed all over the floor, and the scent of chemicals lingered in the air.
And by the look of the saddle pads and blankets with dark spots on them, that’s where it was coming from.
“What did you do?” I knew PTSD episodes could be bad, but I didn’t think he’d do something like this… or that this was PTSD.
Emmett spun on his heels, a crazed look in his eyes. “You think I did this?” he yelled, absolutely livid.
Anger flared hot in my chest. “Are you serious? I just heard you!”
“You heard me kick a feed bucket that was already turned over,” he snarled. He grabbed a saddle off the wall and flung it at my feet. “You really think I’d do that?”
I looked down at the saddle. My stomach dropped. The leather was scratched, the horn snapped off, and the stirrups cut. My mouth bobbed, speechless, and I looked around the room again. There were torn bridles and halters. More ruined saddles. Just about everything was destroyed.
“I…” I didn’t even know what to say. This was tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of damage.
We’d have to replace everything. I palmed my forehead, unease twisting my stomach.
How would I tell Claire and Beau? Everyone?
Would Ethan pull out of the sponsorship because of this?
What about Cavendish Academy and its funding?
More importantly, who would do something like this? And why?
“You what, Delilah?” I flinched at the accusation in Emmett’s tone.
“You think I’m just some fucking loose cannon that’s gonna explode any second, don’t you?
” he said from behind me. “I knew everyone else thought that, but I didn’t think you did, too.
” The hurt in his voice hit like a sucker punch to the ribs.
I swallowed thickly, turning to face him again. “No. I don’t think that at all.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” He shook his head, looking disappointed.
“You’ve been watching me like a hawk these last three days, Delilah.
Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” I didn’t want the reminder of our slip-up, of Tess almost catching us, or the way he looked down on his knees; I was trying to move on.
Hot rage burned through me like acid. “I don’t care if you’ve noticed. Excuse me for giving a shit.”
His jaw tensed, nostrils flaring with his heavy breaths.
“Yeah, well, I don’t need a fucking babysitter, so you can stop giving a shit.
” I knew better than to let his anger bait me.
I knew it was a defense mechanism. Lashing out.
Pushing people away. Being angry instead of what you were really feeling. It was classic.
And yet, his words still grabbed onto me and pulled me right back to him. Hook, line, and sinker, just like always.
Horse feed crunched beneath my boots as I stormed over to him, shoving him back. “Fuck you!” His back met the wall, his chest heaving. “All I’ve ever done is give a shit about you, and you throw it back in my face like a fucking coward. I’m sick of it!”
I reached for him, to do what, I didn’t know. He snatched my wrists before I even got the chance to decide. “Don’t touch me,” he said, his voice low with warning.
“Or what? You’ll run away again? Storm off and hide like you have been since you came home?”
He hauled me to him by my wrists, pinning them between our chests. “You don’t know anything about the shit I’ve seen. The things I’ve done. People are dead because of me, Delilah. Dozens of people.” The words came out harsh, clipped, like spitting nails. Nails that dripped venom and self-hatred.
The admission was like a clamp on my lungs. I knew that already—assumed was more like it. An Army Ranger didn’t get deployed to war zones and not take a life. It was common sense, but hearing him say it out loud took all the fight out of me.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he snapped, voice so tense I was surprised he didn’t choke on the words.
“Like what?” I whispered, fighting through the knot in my throat.
“Like you pity me. I can’t fucking stand it when people look at me like that.”
I flattened my hands on his heaving chest, and his heart was racing beneath them. His grip on my wrists was tight like shackles. But that’s what I was, wasn’t I? Shackled to him? Shackled by this desperation to help him and the love and heartbreak I felt for him?
“It’s not pity, Emmett. I don’t pity you.
I never have. There’s nothing for me to pity.
I feel empathy for you. I see you every day, hurting and carrying all this alone, and it breaks my heart.
” I pressed against his chest, hoping the pressure would settle him.
“It breaks my heart because I know that’s not who you are.
You don’t hide from things. You never have.
Like that time you fought Tyler Hanson for me and he beat the shit out of you. ”
The anger vanished from his eyes. A bewildered look took its place. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
My head tilted, searching his face until I found the tiny scar on his left cheekbone from Tyler’s class ring. Despite his hold on my wrist, I lifted my hand, tracing it. “Of course, I do. Every girl remembers when a boy defends her honor.”
Tyler was a senior when I was a freshman, and was spreading rumors that I gave him a blowjob behind the gym—because I wouldn’t.
Our entire school called me a slut for it.
Emmett was only a scrawny sophomore, not even sixteen yet, when he confronted Tyler about it in the parking lot.
He managed to land one good punch before Tyler kicked his ass to hell and back.
He sported black eyes and a busted lip for days because of it. Because of me.
It was also the moment I knew I’d never love anyone else.
It was just so Emmett to face something he knew he might not walk away from intact with fearless conviction.
He’d been like that our entire childhood.
Going into haunted houses without a second thought, climbing the tallest trees, that day all those years ago when our group broke up, and I thought he was going to fight Mount McLeod for yelling at us girls, joining the Army. The list was endless.
His bravery was what I loved most about him, and seeing him so broken crushed me. A kind of devastation I didn’t know I could feel.
Emmett’s eyes bored into mine, something unspoken in them that would have kept me rooted in place even if his hands weren’t holding my wrists.
My breathing slowed when he turned slightly, his mouth landing on my palm.
The kiss was so gentle I barely felt it, but seeing his lips on my skin made me feel like I was burning from the inside out.
“Emmett,” I whispered, staring at his lips as they trailed further down my hand to my wrist. Every kiss grew firmer, more urgent. “What are you doing?”
A shaky breath left him, the kind that came with fraying control. His lips grazed the inside of my wrist as he said, “What I’ve been dying for since you left my bed eleven days ago.”
My body swayed when his eyes met mine; that meadowy green looked lit from within. I wanted a piece of that light. I wanted to bask in it. Exist in it. My head went light and airy, and I fell into him, our mouths colliding in a messy kiss that made me feel like I was coming undone.
Emmett’s hands fell to my waist, groaning into my mouth. The low, rumbling sound reverberated through me. A trail of fire licked down my spine and pooled between my legs.
We staggered back, mouths locked, stumbling over the mess at our feet.
My back met the island. Emmett yanked me by my hips, spinning me around roughly until my back was against his chest. I planted my shaking hands on the wooden table.
My eyes fluttered shut when he ground into me. A ragged moan spilled from us both.
Fuck, I missed this.
He swept my hair over to one shoulder. “God, this hair,” he whispered, voice rough. “I’m obsessed.” My hand slipped back into his hair when his lips met my neck, his tongue scorching on my skin.
“Emmett.” His name came out as nothing more than a breathy plea. This was a bad idea—terrible. But he felt so good, so right, that I didn’t care.
My jaw dropped with a whimper when he palmed my breasts, massaging them roughly. “Addicted to all of you, sugar,” he whispered hoarsely against my neck, teeth raking against the curve to my shoulder.
I was certain my heart was going to explode if he kept talking like that.
My head lolled back, resting against his shoulder.
He kept caressing my body, his touch more desperate with every second that passed.
He kissed my shoulder and neck and jaw like he wanted to devour me whole, one kiss at a time.