Page 250 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

Indi kicks Princess Sophia in the ribs. In a second, she’s tearing away from me.

I laugh. Fuck, guess that finally got the response I needed. Should have done this from the start. But I’m not done with her yet. If it takes me forcing her to jump another fence, I’ll do it.

“Ha!”

I race after Indi, banking when she does, following her through the knolls. She glances over her shoulder, grimacing when she sees I’m on her heels. “Leave me alone!” she screams over her shoulder, flipping me off.

Really? She waves a fucking red flag in front of a bull and expects it to go quietly back into its stall?

“Ha!”

Duke speeds up. In seconds, I’m close enough to grab hold of Indi’s arm. She tears herself free, but doesn’t look at me. I urge Duke forward.

Light gleams off Indi’s face.

Her cheeks are wet, her mouth a quivering line. Her chest is heaving as heavily as Sophia’s, and her grip on the reigns is white-knuckled.

What the fuck?

Maybe she reallyison the rag. There’s no way what I said could possibly have made her cry.

“Hey!” I bellow. “Slow down.”

In response, she spurs Sophia on.

Duke follows. I know Sophia could beat my gelding, but Indi’s so busy wiping at her face that she’s not controlling her animal. Sophia flags, and I take the opportunity to catch up, lean over, and grab Sophia’s bridle.

Dumb ass move, but when I want someone to stop, they fucking stop.

Sophia’s hooves churn up dirt and grass as she slows, and Indi swats at my hand as if she’s somehow grown strong enough to fight me.

Our horses slow to a canter, a trot, a walk. But Sophia’s barely even stopped before Indi hops off her and takes off running.

Fuck! What is it with her?

“Indi!”

I tie the horses’s reigns together so they can keep each other company, and then I’m sprinting after Indi. She’s fast, but she’s not an athlete. She’s still climbing the fence when I launch myself up behind her.

I grab her ankle.

She kicks me in the face.

So I let her climb over, and then I go after her.

The shadow of the small strip of woods hugging Lavish Prep’s northern grounds cool my skin a second before I grab Indi’s hair and haul her up short.

She yells out in pain and then starts thrashing around, digging her nails into my wrists and trying to untangle my fingers from her hair.

“What did I tell you about running?” I growl, dragging her against me.

She fights me for another second, and then she goes limp.

Jesus, finally.

Now, should I pin her to a tree again, or just shove her to the ground? Either has appeal?—

Her body shakes as a sob wracks her.

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