Page 25 of Judgment Day

I froze, pausing as though the gold buckle in my hand weighed one hundred pounds.

“There’s no such thing. Royal Standard is a coverup.” He looked at me the way a cat looked at a mouse once he’d gotten it backed into a corner. “For the girls.”

I went numb. The air grew thick like a dark fog. Suffocating.

There are things you don’t know…

I did what I had to do.

“What girls?”

“I think you know the answer to that.” He tried to move and winced at the pain.

“What do we do with him?” Maddox asked as I moved to leave.

I saw her face, saw her smile, heard her laugh as she talked to that young girl, then sent her off in that van. My stomach dropped. Had I stood there, worried about Sadie, while she sent a van full of girls off to be raped and tortured?

No.

He was lying. Winston was a goddamn liar.

“Take him outside and hose him down.”

There was somewhere else I needed to be.

FIFTEEN

My father gaveme a horse for my third birthday—a Highland pony. I’d been around horses my whole life. When I was sixteen, we got a Clydesdale named Koda. Koda was the most beautiful horse I’d ever seen—deep mahogany brown with hints of black on her mane and tail, a muscular build, white socks, and feathering on her legs—but impossible to ride because she would spook every time she heard a loud noise. We’d put her in a holding stock, which was basically a narrowed stall made of steel pipe that only allowed enough room for the horse to stand. We’d introduced her to every sound imaginable; a bag full of aluminum cans, car horns, dogs barking… gunshots.

Days passed, then weeks, and Koda started focusing less and less on the sounds around her. She trusted me, and I’d trusted her enough to take her for a ride. She’d trotted along with her powerful gait, and I’d praised her for it. Somewhere near the outside of the woods surrounding our estate, the clouds opened up, and the rain began to fall. Lightning crashed and thunder roared across the sky. And Koda took off.

She’d raced through the woods at breakneck speed. My heart raced as fast as she ran, knowing there was a possibility this would end badly for both of us. Tree branches whipped my body and face, even when I tried to duck. The heavy curtain of rain made it nearly impossible to see. Koda powered on, mud breaking from the wet ground and splattering on her legs, on my boots, up my legs. I’d leaned back in the saddle, pulling on the rein until her chin was pressed against her strong chest. She’d barreled forward. Morbid thoughts flashed in my mind like the lightning above us. What would it feel like to crash into one of the thick tree trunks at this speed? How many bones would I break. My neck? My spine? And if Koda landed on top of me, what then? I’d held onto my control, ignoring the panic that crept in as I guided her around trees and fallen branches. The wind had covered the ground in a blanket of soaking-wet pine needles, turning the earth beneath them into a slick-smooth death trap. We were heading up a steep grade. There was no way we would make it down the other side without falling.

The incline got steeper. More fallen branches blocked the open path.

Koda began to slow down.

My saddle heaved up and down as my sweet girl fought for air.

And then, at the top of the hill, she’d stopped.

I let out a long breath, then leaned forward, stroking her neck. “Was it worth it?” I’d asked in a calm, steady tone.

She was shaking, nearly choking as she tried to suck in oxygen.

“Easy, Koda.” I’d stroked her neck, her nose, her body. “You did this to yourself, you know?” The rain started to slow. “You’re okay, now. I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

There was power in the voice. A cool, steady tone soothed the wildest of beasts. After years of training horses, that tone had become a habit for me. Soft. Slow. Steady. Focused.

Koda calmed down.

I’d sat up and patted her hindquarters. “Good girl.”

People were a lot like horses. They responded better when you were gentle. They liked praise. And when they were afraid, fight or flight kicked in.

I thought about Koda the entire ride back to the palace.

Winston was manipulative. He was vindictive and malicious. He would’ve said anything, done anything to get under my skin.

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