Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
“He is scared of you,” I pointed out.
He ran the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip, staring at it as if it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. “Most people are.”
I reached up and grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand from my mouth before I got distracted. “Thatcher,” I warned.
He finally turned his eyes back to JB. I realized that the girl was watching us, wide-eyed and curious. JB, on the other hand, was visibly shaking. What in the world had Thatcher done? He had all his fingers. He didn’t walk with a limp. His face was the same.
“It’s nice to see you, JB,” Thatcher said, although his tone was cautious. “You seem well.”
JB nodded but didn’t move or speak.
I wasn’t sure there was anything Thatcher could say to make this better. I gave up and decided to put JB out of his misery. “I’m glad you’re doing good. Please don’t let us keep you any longer. Enjoy your evening,” I told JB, glancing from him to the girl.
She was studying Thatcher like a kid in a candy shop.
“Yeah, uh, you too,” JB croaked.
Thatcher’s sinister chuckle got a sharp glare from me. Although it was hard to hold it when his eyes went so warm and promising as he stared down at me.
“Are we going inside? You didn’t introduce me,” the girl said in a high-pitched tone as she looked at Thatcher, smiling.
“Just go,” JB bit out, grabbing her arm and pulling her with him toward the store.
“JB! What stop!” she squealed, but he continued dragging her away.
I looked back at Thatcher. “I’m afraid to know now,” I said, letting out a long breath. “What you did to him.”
Thatcher cupped my face with a hand, tilting his head as his gaze slowly traveled over it. As if I were a work of art in a museum and he wanted to memorize every detail.
“I caught him fucking some woman he’d picked up in a bar. He took her to a hotel room. I jerked him off her, took him to a little getaway of mine, he kept all his body parts, while I made sure he understood to stay away from you,” Thatcher explained as if that all made sense.
“Why?” I asked.
“Why what?” he asked, his gaze meeting my eyes.
“Why would you do that?” I asked him.
“Because he was supposed to be dating you.”
I shook my head. “We had just started talking.”
“Doesn’t matter. Why would he want anyone else?”
I wanted to slap him, kiss him, shake him, hold onto him, and never let go. This man and all his messed up, crazed ways managed to make me melt with words that should send me running.
• Sixteen •
“I’ll text pictures of hats!”
Capri
Watching Carmen ride Zephyr, the only jockey Shephard Stables used, was painful. The longing to be the one on the back of Thatcher’s thoroughbred was deep, and I knew it was pointless to beg. I’d tried. Thatcher couldn’t handle the idea. He’d struggled enough allowing me to ride Bloodline in the Breeders Cup. My safety was important to him because he couldn’t live without me. Those words were the only reason I stood back, watching this and saying nothing.
Although I knew I could get a better time on Zephyr than he was clocking. Sighing, I stepped back from the fence and waved goodbye to Miller before heading toward the stables. I still needed to take Pharaoh out before I left for the day. A shiny silver Mercedes came pulling up into the parking lot. I shaded my eyes to see who it was. I didn’t recognize that car, but it looked new. If there was another new jockey here to ride Zephyr, I might scream.
When my mother stepped out of the driver’s seat, I stopped walking altogether and stared. That was my mom, but she didn’t look like the woman I had known all my life. Her hair had been cut into a pixie style with choppy layers and a tousled top with an edgy vibe, complete with highlights. The black cat eye-shaped sunglasses she wore looked designer, as did the snug black pants and cropped white top that she had on. Was my mom showing off her stomach? I blinked and considered rubbing my eyes. That was my mother… right?
She lifted a hand and waved at me. The sun hit her nails and made a few glisten. Okay, wait, what was on her nails? She did not have those little rhinestone thingy’s on her nails. Oh my god. My feet began moving again as I walked toward the woman who had given birth to me, raised me, and looked like someone I didn’t know.
“Capri,” she called out my name in greeting, smiling as she did so. She was wearing lipstick. Red lipstick. I was in the twilight zone.