Page 47 of Stables

I can hear her fidgeting, and a board in the floor creak as she shifts her weight.

Picking up the box of extras and the full jar of tea, I stand up and try to put a little distance between us.

She has her arms wrapped around her waist clenching the loose fabric of her shirt on the sides while she looks like she may be sick.

I hate how my gaze keeps getting drawn back to her nipples poking through the snugged tee.

The ice is almost melted in my tea, but when I take the first sip, it washes over me in a cool wave.

I’ve never tasted anything like it, but I savor the distraction.

“When does this end? Am I supposed to live in fear of him forever?” She glances into the living room where Paisley is splayed out on her blanket amidst a wild array of books and toys, sleeping soundly.

Char doesn’t know it, but I’m in this for the long haul. Every moment that goes by makes me want to stay longer.

Guilt prickles the back of my neck over the fact that I’m almost enjoying the excuse to spend time with her.

Another swallow of the chilled drink clears my mind.

“The paramedics have a saying I’ve heard a few times. ‘Eventually, all bleeding does stop’.” I give her my best grin, and hold my jar up in a silent toast.

Chapter 13

Char

It’s almost jarring, butin a good way, when he smiles.

He does it so rarely, I feel like it’s some sort of gift.

So it takes me a moment to get the joke.

Wait.

Blood flow stops at death, too.

My stomach twists. I hope it isn’t mine.

He must have seen my expression change, because he sets his drink down and moves closer.

His hands wave around some sort of invisible barrier between us as his lips drop into a frown. “Hey, I’m sorry. I was kidding. I meant him.”

I can’t fight the wave of ice that rolls through my body, clenching around my heart.

What if it’s Paisley?

All of the strength leaves my body.

Before my knees collide with the hard linoleum, Dixon’s strong hands grip my arms, holding me from falling.

“Char? Are you okay?” His voice cracks on the last word as he kicks a chair away from the table and helps me sit.

The tears fall on their own. “I’m scared,” I stammer. I wish I could tell him how suffocating this is.

How everything sitting on my shoulders feels like I’m being crushed.

I’m barely surviving, with no option for failure, and Matt keeps showing up to shove me back down.

More like bury me.

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