Page 9 of Pursuing a Duke
Caldwell stood off to the side, swaying on his feet. “Is this a good idea? You two are foxed and don’t know the terrain.”
“To hell with the terrain.” Aiden took another swig from his never-ending flask, almost unseating himself. “We are invincible.”
“Hell, yes,” Andrew drawled, “invinca . . . something.”
“Ready?” Weston stood between the riders. “On three. One. Two. Three!”
Andrew urged his horse on, surprised his mount was a good match for Merlin. Andrew could barely hold on as he felt the effects of the whisky sloshing around in his stomach, wanting to come back up. The wind took his hat off, and his hair blew in his eyes, making it difficult to see anything but Merlin and Aiden to his left.
To stop the world from spinning and give him something to concentrate on besides leaning over the saddle and throwing up, he focused on Merlin becoming more agitated as Aiden used a crop on him. Merlin never tolerated such treatment and he should’ve warned Aiden not to use one.
Andrew urged his horse to go faster and he came right beside Aiden who appeared to struggle with the reins. Panicking at what he saw, Andrew yelled, “Whoa, Merlin, whoa.”
Several things happened then that Andrew could never again unsee or forgive himself for. Merlin came to a sudden and violent stop that sent Aiden flying over his head. Aiden tumbled to the ground in a broken heap as Merlin went up on his hind legs. When he came down he stomped on Aiden with his full weight.
At the same time Andrew’s eyes witnessed the vicious actions, a scream split the air, and then silence. Andrew’s heart lodged in his throat as he jumped out of the saddle and dropped down beside his friend’s fractured body. He didn’t need to seehis sightless eyes looking up into the sky to know he was dead. Aiden’s face was twisted up in silent agony. His mouth open as if he were still screaming.
Andrew staggered to his feet and vomited the contents of his stomach just as Weston and Caldwell arrived.
“What the fuck?” Weston yelled as he dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face.
Caldwell was vomiting.
Suddenly sober, and wishing he weren’t, Andrew placed his hand on Weston’s back. For support or his own comfort, he didn’t know, nor did it matter. All that mattered was that his best friend in the entire world was dead, and it was his fault.
