Page 43 of A Photo Finish
She stretches one hand toward me politely with a fake smile plastered on her face. “Violet. I’ve never heard of you before. But what a pretty name. I’m Hilary.”
I almost snort, because I’ve spent enough time around my brother’s past girlfriends to know fake nice when I see it. To know words laced with venom when I hear them. Hilary isn’t fooling anyone with her polite act, and I know she’s not fooling Cole by the way his hand pulses around mine.
I return her false, tittering laugh with one of my own. “Well, that’s too funny because I’ve heardsomuch about you!” I haven’t, but my guess works.
Her face clamps down almost instantly as her eyes shoot up to Cole, seeking some sort of invite to stay but not finding any. “Well, it was nice seeing you again. It’s been too long.”
She rests her hand on his bicep, and I want to rip it off. White-hot jealousy shoots up my throat. Instant nausea. And instant self-loathing. I have absolutelyzeroclaim to this man, yet here I am getting my panties in a twist over someone touching his arm with a familiarity I envy.Pathetic.
He nods sullenly as she turns and walks back across the room. We both watch her go, hand in hand, my gut churning with a deep sense of dread.
“I need some fresh air,” I squeak as I set my sights on the door and dart away. Or as close to darting as I can muster with this damn walking cast. I’m so beyond ready to ditch this thing and get back to my life. My job. My focus. This hiatus is messing with my brain.
I sigh in relief as the stairs out of the godforsaken building come into sight. I need to be down on the ground with the dirt, and the noises, and the beer-drinking gamblers. I don’t belong up there.
One more set of stairs comes into view as I round the corner. Except the exit is not clear. Far from it.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Patrick Cassel drawls with a stupid, smug smile on his face. I recoil but jut my chin out and keep walking, deciding the best way to handle a child is to ignore their attention-seeking behavior.
“Shame about the cast.”
“Mhmm,” I say, keeping my eyes peeled on the door ahead, on the bright white sunshine pouring into the dark landing, shining like a beacon for where I can get away from both Cole and Patrick.
But then his arm shoots out in front of me as he grabs the railing at the base of the stairs to block my forward motion.
“Trying to leave so quickly?”
“Move your arm, Patrick.” I glare back at his manicured features and too-thin lips made especially ugly by the snide look on his face.
“Most new girls on the scene would bend over backwards to have my attention. Forward too.” He winks, and my skin crawls. I know that this kind of shit happens behind the scenes. The sex. The drugs. The drama. And it’s part of why I prefer hiding out in Ruby Creek on the ranch. I don’t want to be down at the track every day catching whatever ride I can with whatever trainer I can. Ilikemy bubble.
“Move. Your. Arm.”
“You might enjoy yourself, and I might give you a little more space the next time I pass you out there.”
My throat goes hot with rage. It’s one thing to think he cut me off on purpose. But to hear him confirm it is something else entirely.
But a dangerous voice takes over my train of thought from behind me. “Nobody enjoys fucking you, Patrick. Now move your arm before I remove it completely.”
I turn my head to look over my shoulder and find Cole standing at the top of the stairs like some sort of dark, avenging angel. He often looks grumpy, but right now, he looks downright deadly. All those years in the military have scored every hard line in the body that stands over us. He looks relaxed.Toorelaxed. Like this is an easy default mode for him. And Patrick, idiot that he is, doesn’t pick up on the danger at all.
Helaughs.“Harding Senior. Nice to see ya, buddy.”
I don’t even spare Patrick a glance, mostly because I can’t tear my eyes off Cole. He looks like he could tear the other jockey limb from limb, and I’m alarmingly turned on by the prospect. I know they know each other from some intertwined family business, and Cole had him ride DD at his debut race that went poorly. I also know Cole is not looking back at Patrick like they’re friends.
“We’re not buddies,” Cole bites out. “You’re a slimy little fuck who I would love nothing more than to set straight. If you think that episode with the whip hurt, you have no clue what you’re in for. What I’m trained to do.”
Patrick, who is clearly missing some sort of survival instinct, scoffs at him. “Dude. You’re not seriously worried about this barn brat, are you? Our little conversation is just part of how things run around here. There are loopholes to working your way up in the world. Violet just needs to learn them.”
“Touch her, and I’ll kill you.” Cole’s voice is downright arctic.
Patrick just smirks in the face of the threat. He steps right up to me and defiantly places his spare hand on my shoulder. Like I’m too simple to understand his implication—like it’s perfectly normal to talk about another person like they aren’t even there. Like touching a woman without her permission is acceptable.
From the corner of my eye, I see Cole spring into motion, but not before uncontrollable fury lances through me. My season is in the toilet thanks to this sleaze bag, and the realization makes me snap. I do to Patrick exactly what I’d have done to one of my shithead brothers when they picked on me too much.
I knee him right between the legs. Hard. And then stand back to watch him double over in pain.
“Serves him right,” Cole says from behind me, surprise lacing his tone. His hand lands on my shoulder, but I shrug it off. I don’t want anyone touching me right now. I feel angry, and scared, and like I just narrowly missed what could have been a very scary encounter.
