Page 68 of Boundaries

My mind raced as I drew in each word. My expression must have revealed my confusion.

“I don’t understand. Her foot stumbled. I was riding her without due care.”

He exhaled as if he was striving to be patient, “She had suspected laminitis, Amy. That’s why she was destroyed.” His expression was strained.

Shock flooded into my system. She’d had a crippling disease?

A mixture of relief and frustration pooled in me as I thought about all those wasted years thinking I was responsible.

“Really?” My voice was hoarse.

“Yes. I can’t believe you’ve thought for all these years that we put her down because of you. That’s crazy. We hadn’t had the results back which was partly the reason I was so pissed that you’d taken her. She also wasn’t fully broken. I hadn’t had enough time with her.”

A surge of respite kicked in and tears hit my eyes. The news made my chest feel lighter somehow. Like a burden had been lifted.

“Don’t go fucking crying on me, Amy. I can’t stand to see you cry,” Mason whispered, running his thumb across one wet cheek as we faced each other in my bed.

I was just so happy; they were more like tears of joy. They soon evaporated with what went down next.

BANG! The door downstairs slammed. Shit! Someone was home. I tramped down that swell of irritation and I made my move.

It would have been comical under any other circumstances, as we both flung off the covers, searching for Mason’s joggers and top.

I so hoped it wasn’t my younger sister. Chrissy usually just barged in.

Mason dressed with lightning speed. Thank fuck he’d walked over last night and his truck wasn’t there. This brought my thoughts to my car and what we had done on it and the pulse in my neck fluttered like the feathers of a wild bird.

I pulled on designer skinny jeans with rips in and a tee. I quickly brushed my hair.

We both waited in my room for the sounds to increase and reveal who had come in but it was strangely quiet.

Mason and I moved out onto the corridor and toward the large curving staircase. Sounds were coming from the kitchen. Drat, you had to walk past the kitchen to get through the front door.

They’d all probably find out eventually, but did I want them to know just yet, absolutely not. I wasn’t ready for those difficult questions yet. Everything was too new.

The thought of going out the window vanished quickly when I popped my head out and saw the drop. That was a neck-breaking opportunity right there.

Mason and I whispered suggestions before his mouth broke out into a massive smile and his shoulders started to shake.

“I feel like I’m on a residential trip with school trying to sneak into the girl’s dorms,” he whispered. I grinned. I could so imagine him doing that. Mason had been charming girls since the strike of puberty.

Having told Jenna, a thought suddenly occurred to me, “Why are we sneaking, it’s Nixon. Don’t you tell him everything? That’s what you said at the barn that day when you told him you’d… well, you know,” I struggled to say the words, they felt too coarse in my mouth.

“Fingered you,” Mason supplied with raised eyebrows.

I nodded my yes.

“I was fucking with you, Amy. I really don’t kiss and tell and especially not to my brothers. Boyd can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life and Nixon has no interest in anything that isn’t Jenna shaped. He probably just thought I was just messing with you.”

So, his brothers didn’t know about us. At least, not from the horse’s mouth so to speak. Whatever they thought was going on would be a guess. Although it was still obvious something was going off. Especially that day at the beach when Boyd had caught us. I felt a bit guilty that I’d let the cat out of the bag to Jenna. Maybe I could back-peddle and say I was winding her up. But then I’d be lying to my sister, something I had never done, not really. Bend the truth here and there of course but blatant lies, no way.

As we stood at the top of the stairs waiting for the best moment to make a run for it, my sister Jenna left the kitchen and walked out into the lobby.

“We’re not having this conversation again Jenna, I’ve said no and that’s my final answer. It’s not happening,” Nixon’s voice still grated on me. Yes, Mason was also controlling, but Nix’s voice was like a force to be reckoned with. Each word was like a direct order. You could so tell he was in the army.

I shot Mason a disgusted look and he held out his palms as if to say, who gives a shit.

“But I can’t keep doing this Nixon. You’re smoothing me again. I need to have my own voice. Make some decisions about stuff,” Jenna said, her sweet voice so light and airy compared to the deep rattle that came from her husband’s mouth.

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