Page 81 of Hearts Of Darkness

I’m hollow with grief when I do. I’ll be a husk of a manwithout her. Eve, with all her light and grace, has gone and staked a claim over whatever blackened ashes were left of my heart.

I rise to my feet and walk swiftly toward the exit, my emotions in a state of fucking anarchy. Before I disembark, I can’t resist one final look. My resolve nearly evaporates when I see my own pain mirrored back to me on her face. It’s a sight that both kills and cures me.I did this.I took her, I made her desire me, and now I’m cutting her free.

It’s this decision that will torment me during the long, long weeks ahead.

25

EVE

Six Weeks Later…

“Stop, Anna! I can’t do it, I can’t do it. Get me off this pony, it’s like riding a mountain!” I drop the reins and clap one hand over my eyes.

Anna laughs and pats my thigh reassuringly. “He’s only a midget. I won’t let go of his bridle until you say it’s okay.”

“I don’t believe you. You’ve been dying to see me land on my ass ever since kindergarten.”

She laughs again. “It’s good to see you back in the saddle, Evie.” Her voice has taken on a husky, affectionate tone that tells me she’s been missing the old me as much as I have these past five years.

It’s good to be back.

I peek through my fingers at my other hand—the one that’s clutching handfuls of wiry black mane belonging to a fat pony called Rufus.

“Don’t worry so much, señorita,” yells Manuel from the other side of the fence. “That pony’s so slow, he’s a walking snooze button.”

Great. Even Manuel is laughing at me.

“You’re not helping,” I tell him, as the pony stamps a foot and swishes his tail at the flies swarming around his flank.

Picking up the reins again, I drive my weight down into my heels, keeping them as snug to Rufus’ belly as I can. He’s the oldest, most dependable rescue pony at the animal sanctuary where Anna works, so why does it feel like I have a Porsche between my legs? Still, I’m doing it. I’m taking risks. I’m learning to embrace life again.

It’s been six weeks since I returned to America. Six weeks since I was deposited on the ground at Miami-Opa Locka Executive Airportwith only the dirty white clothes I was dressed in. Six agonizing weeks of no contact; of few highs and bone-crushing lows; of unbearable solitude and feverish longing to a deception on a scale I never dreamed I was capable of.

Once again, I lied through my teeth to the authorities—painting a picture of Dante Santiago with every contradictory description I could think of. With no clues as to where I was being held, and no outward signs of rape or abuse, they’re growing weary of my case already.

I’m home.

I’m safe.

I’m not outwardly traumatized.

More importantly, I’m showing a readiness to put the whole episode behind me and to get on with my life.

As if I could forget him so easily.

He’s the man who has filled my life with every color and emotion. He’s my first waking thought and the last flawless image in my head when I close my eyes at night. He haunts my days. He plagues my nightmares. In the first flush of dawn, I swear I can feel his strong arms wrapped around me, soothing away my loneliness. I wake from dreams so sexual and intense; I throb for hours before seeking my own release. His name is the only one I cry when my fingers tip me into the void.

A deep whicker from Rufus snaps me out of my reverie. With renewed gusto, I squeeze his girth with my heels and click noisily with my tongue. “Walk on, boy.”

“Okay, I’m letting go,” I hear Anna cry.

“Do it!”

A thrilling blast of joy hits my senses as I kick Rufus into a slow trot, sliding effortlessly into his two-step rhythm, posting exactly how I remembered. Every action and movement comes flooding back to me as I angle his head to the outer path of the arena and complete a full circle before tugging him back to a walk, red-faced and breathless from exertion.

“You did it!” hoots Manuel, his handsome face creasing into another grin as I pass him by. I return his smile and brush the tip of my whip against my hat in a mock salute.

I thank Dante every day for allowing Manuel to travel back to America with me as my bodyguard. I’m still shocked he agreed to it. Dante is a deeply possessive man. The decision would have tested him greatly, but it shows a level of trust in me, too. It shows how far we’ve come.

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