Page 109 of Downpour

I wiped my cheeks, accidentally smearing dust and dirt across my skin. “I just needed a breather.”

He looked around. “And manual labor was the answer? You know, you don’t get paid to muck stalls.”

“I know. I just wanted something to do. I’m sorry if I messed it up.”

CJ grabbed a bale of straw from the stack and tossed it into the stall. It landed with a thud. Two more followed it. “Ray’s looking for you.”

I spread the straw out to make a suitable bed for Anny. “I’m off the clock.”

CJ took to cleaning the water and feed bins. “I don’t think that means much to him.”

“He can deal with it. He’s fine without me, and I need space.”

CJ chuckled. “He’s never been good at taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

I paused and looked at him with pleading eyes. “I just want to hide for a little bit.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself, but Ray will figure out a way to find you.”

We finished turning over Anny’s stall in silence, and CJ brought her in for the night.

She immediately started nuzzling into my neck when she got close enough.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I said as I loved on her. “You’re not as mean as everyone says you are.”

CJ laughed. “No, she is.” He smoothed his hand down her glossy black coat. “But for some reason she likes you.”

“I won’t be out here too much longer,” I promised.

He shrugged and headed out. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you. Good luck with your night.”

I found companionship with the horses. They judged, but there was no unwanted commentary. If they liked me, they’d let me stay around. If not, they were gone. I appreciated the simplicity of that. Animals were good judges of character.

The sputter of a golf cart rattled me out of the silent chat I was having with myself.

“Brooke?” Ray roared through the quiet of the stables.

Anny glared at the barn doors, and I didn’t blame her.

“Brooke—“ he paused. “I don’t know your fucking middle name or I’d use it.”

The clatter of metal piqued my curiosity and drew me out from Anny’s stall. I peered around the corner. Ray was sitting in the driver’s seat of a golf cart, in the process of pulling his wheelchair out of the back and opening it up on the ground beside him.

Shit.

“Brooke,” he shouted again when he heard me shuffling in the hay. Brown eyes landed on mine. His jaw was locked tight as he slid out of the golf cart and into his wheelchair.

I swallowed. At least we were alone. The horses wouldn’t tell anyone about him yelling at me.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he snapped as he rolled into the barn.

I turned my back to him and smoothed my hand down Anny’s nose. “I left a note. I said I was going on a walk.”

Ray let out the most sarcastic laugh I had ever heard. “You left a note. Right. Because the last time you went on a walk you almost died of heatstroke. So unless you’re going to let me put a goddamn tracking chip in the back of your neck, then no. A note is not fucking good enough.”

“I don’t understand why you’re angry,” I said calmly. “How’d you even get down here? Did CJ rat me out?”

“CJ didn’t tell me shit,” he snapped. “Don’t ask me why, but I just knew you’d be in here.”

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