Page 49 of Demons

My eyes snapped open, and the darkness in my bedroom told me it was still nighttime. I felt an unsettled feeling, and I lay there, not moving, afraid to. Something had woken me. I didn’t know what, but with the way I’d jolted awake so suddenly, I knew I hadn’t woken up organically. My heart started to beat faster as I strained to listen for anything. I’d locked both doors and double-checked them. If someone had gotten inside, considering the noises that would make, I’d have woken up while they were doing it.

Maybe a bad dream that I didn’t remember had woken me. I lifted my eyes to look at the light switch and considered turning it on and looking around. There wasn’t anyone here. I was being ridiculous.

Needing to prove it to myself, I turned onto my back and studied the darkness surrounding me. Only shadows that I recognized. Nothing alive and breathing. A car could have driven by, or a dog could have barked. Why I always had to go to someone being in the house when I woke up like this in the middle of the night, I didn’t know. Sometimes, my imagination was a pain in the ass.

Pushing those thoughts from my head, I replayed the kiss that Tyron had given me at the door tonight. Although his breath had been minty and he had good technique, no slobbery stuff or out-of-control tongue action, it had been well done. I had enjoyed it.

Most kisses I’d had weren’t great and were often forgettable. At least this time, I had been impressed even if I had been critiquing it when it was happening. My toes hadn’t curl, and my nipples hadn’t hardened. None of that stuff you heard about. But was that even real? Did girls just make that up for a guy’s ego or to add romance to their story?

Reaching for my extra pillow, I groaned and covered my face. Why was it all so complicated? Perhaps I was the problem. I was too disengaged. I hadn’t been when Thatcher was asking me dirty things in my ear, but then it could have simply been the vodka in the lemon drops and not him at all. Any attractive guy could have said those things to me at the moment, and I’d have reacted the same way.

I could test that theory or just go with it and not rock the boat. It was easy enough to accept that the alcohol had made me horny. Wasn’t that a common thing? I had to stop thinking it was Thatcher freaking Shephard that held that magical power.

• Twenty-Three •

“I will never join that club—I can promise you that.”

Capri

My phone began ringing the moment I crossed the Tennessee state line. I’d been on the road for almost three hours. I’d be in Knoxville early, but it would give me time to get some lunch before going to meet with the trainer at J&N Farm.

Glancing down, I saw the number of the trainer I was headed to see. I pressed Accept and placed the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Uh, Capri,” the voice said over the line.

“Yes.”

He cleared his throat. “I … well, we decided on another jockey. I didn’t want you to get too far this way and waste your time. Thanks for your willingness to come here, and I wish you the best of luck.”

I slowed my speed even though I was still on the interstate. Was he really canceling hours before our meeting? When he knew I had to be on the road from Madison already?

“Okay, thanks,” I replied, trying to mask my anger before ending the call.

I had nothing more to say to the man. If that was how they did business, I didn’t want to work with them anyway.

Looking for the next exit so I could stop, get something to drink, fuel up, and turn around to drive back home, I wished I’d asked him who he had chosen. I’d let him off too easy. I should have pressed more. Made him uncomfortable or at least feel some remorse for letting me drive this far before canceling.

My phone rang again, and I snatched it up, thinking he might be calling back. The number wasn’t from Tennessee. It was from Kentucky. There was no possible way that they were canceling too. Probably just confirming tomorrow.

I pulled off at the exit while I pressed Accept.

“Hello?” I said brightly, not wanting my foul mood to come through the phone.

“Capri, this is Julio Naws from Three Branches Stables,” he said as if I didn’t know who was calling.

“Yes,” I replied, already not liking the way he sounded.

“I’m calling to let you know that we have hired our jockey for the upcoming races. I do appreciate your availability, and I hope that we might get a chance to work together in the future.”

My jaw dropped. I turned into a service station parking lot, trying to figure out how in the heck this had just happened. Both of them canceling within ten minutes’ time? Had I done something wrong?

“Uh, okay,” I replied, trying to find my words this time. “I—can I ask why you settled on someone already without even giving me a chance?”

He sighed, and I winced. That was never a good sign.

“It’s just racing. Don’t take it personal. We all want to win,” he replied with the most generic answer he could have mustered up.

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