Page 98 of Relentless

“Maeve—” Harper spoke up.

“Yes, Harp?” Maeve asked, praying that it wasn’t going to be another argument.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” Harper replied in a raspy whisper.

“Which time?” Maeve sighed.

Harper gulped hard. “I’m sorry for what I said about Oakleigh.”

“She’ll be happy to hear that from you,” Maeve answered. “When you’re —” She searched for kinder words than she wanted to say. “Feeling better.”

“And,” Harper continued, her words running together in a chaotic stream of thoughts. “I’m sorry that you couldn’t have kids.” She paused as though considering. “You should have been Oakleigh’s mom,” she mumbled. “You would have done a much better job than me.”

Even though Maeve had often considered it, she wouldn’t rub salt in Harper’s wounds.

“Maeve?” Harper glanced up, as though she wanted to be sure her sister was still listening.

“Yes?” Maeve tilted her head.

Harper blinked, grasping Maeve’s hand. “I’m sorry for what I did that made you leave.”

Maeve felt her breath escape.

Even though she knew it was simply Harper’s drunken, guilt-laden ramblings, it was an apology she had never expected to hear. She leaned her head back on the barn wall, her gaze flicking upward to the high beams on the ceiling as tears burned the corners of her eyes.

“Don’t leave me again?” Harper slurred. “Promise?”

“Get some rest, Harp,” Maeve replied, feeling her voice shake as she swiped her wrist under her nose. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

Chapter 27

Pressed

Harper’s bloodshot eyes sprung open to a screech resembling the unpleasant vibration of nails on a chalkboard. Entirely disoriented, her blurry vision focused on the cockeyed rooster staring down at her, perched on what looked to be the gate of a barn stall.

“Shut up, stupid bird,” she shouted hoarsely. Pain struck like a lightning bolt, causing her to slam her eyes shut and jerk her fingers to the center of her brow.

Nugget tilted his feathery head. His cold, unblinking gaze seemed to register Harper’s reaction as more of a challenge than a threat. Nugget’s chest puffed out, and his back arched as he let out another sharp, high-pitched cry that pierced through her eardrums.

“This must be a nightmare,” she stammered. Harper still wasn’t sure where she was, but two things were certain —

It stank, and the dry, scratchy linens must have been cheap.

Clenching her teeth from the pain, she dared to crack her eyes open again. Her pillow felt dry and scratchy because itwasn’t a pillow at all. She was lying in a bed of moist, smelly straw.

Four little hooves pranced onto her back, and the realization sank in that she wasn’t experiencing a nightmare.

I’m in the barn.

She lifted herself out of the filthy hay, causing the furry baby goat to tumble into a heap. Pulling her knees under her, the overwhelming rancid smell of the barn made her pause on all fours. The blurry details of the night before came flooding back in chaotic fragments.

Her divorce.

The vodka and pills.

— and the terrible things she said to Oakleigh.

They were the words of someone else.

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