Page 34 of Unhinged Obsession

All I can do is shake my head as they bicker like we’re not up against an entire cult tonight. I try to push the thoughts of everything that’s evil out of my mind and focus on the beautiful animal I’m lucky enough to spend some time with. When I first came back to St. Augustine, I mentioned to Karin that I was up for the 1st Choosing Ceremony of the year. She didn’t even let me finish my thought process and simply told me that Beau would always be taken care of, even if I couldn’t be here or if my father said otherwise. To be honest, I doubt my father even realizes the amount of money he pays every month for Beau to be boarded here, but I’m glad to know Karin has Beau’s best interest at heart.

Beau’s stride is smooth beneath me, his ears relaxed, and I can't help smiling as we circle the indoor arena one more time before I sink deeper into the saddle and quietly ask him to come back down.

"Good boy,” I say to Beau, but Elijah’s head snaps from Paris to me at the term of endearment.

“Ew. Ew. Actually gross,” Paris says, pointing at Elijah and moving away from him dramatically. “Mr. tough guy responds to ‘good boy’?” Paris laughs, and Elijah is just glaring at her so hard that I think he might actually make her disappear. “You’re not even denying it!”

Elijah cranes his neck to look at me as if to ask permission to do something I know he wouldn’t actually do. At least, I don’t think he would.

“You can’t bury your stepsister in the indoor arena. Karin would have to make another sign,” I say dryly, and he pouts for half a second before turning his big shoulders back to look at Paris.

When Paris taunts Elijah with another high-pitched, drawn-out good boy, Beau clearly thinks she’s talking about him. He responds with a soft huff, stretching into the contact as we settle into an easy walk around the rail.

I reach forward to pat his neck before my fingers disappear into his black mane, scratching the spot I know he loves just behind his ears. Beau's ears swivel back again when I laugh quietly to myself, and I give his neck another affectionate rub before letting the reins slip a little longer through my fingers.

As we pass the entrance to the arena, I notice that Beau seems really interested in something happening off to the right. And then I see the perpetrator.

Across the aisle, Buster, the miniature horse with the floofiest mane, has abandoned any pretense of minding his own business. He’s behind the stall guard with a pile of Timothy hay in front of him, slowly chewing while watching us with an expression of judgment. I'm convinced he's mentally critiquing every decision I've made since climbing into the saddle. If tiny horses could leave scorecards, Buster would probably be holding up a 1 and saying he could've ridden Beau better himself.

I smile despite myself, because no matter what else is going on in my world, some things never change.

No matter how much the rest of my world has unraveled, Beau is still Beau. Buster is still convinced he's in charge of the entire barn. Karin still threatens people with her fly swatter, but would go to war for any of the animals in her care.

And Elijah Moretti loves me.

I ask Beau to stop near the exit of the arena, but Paris is already unchaining it for me. Elijah has his back to us, and he’s on the phone with someone. I don’t like the tingly feeling in my stomach that just sprouted up, like my body is somehow aware that something is about to happen.

I swing my leg over Beau’s ample back and slide easily to the ground. He immediately turns his head toward me, bumping my shoulder with his nose like he's making sure I didn't go very far. I can't help smiling as I reach up to rub the white star between his eyes.

"I'm literally right here,” I tell him, and it makes me wonder if he really did notice my absence for those few months. I kept telling myself that he would be elated to not have a job for a while, or someone dragging him out on trails. Beau loves to eat more than most things, but the way he pushes his nose into my chest, dipping his head for more scritches, makes me think that maybe it’s me, then treats, then a pasture of fresh grass on his hierarchy of decent things in this world.

“Hey, watch where you’re putting your nose, bud,” Elijah calls out, still on the phone, but clearly it’s not important enough to refrain from trying to fight an actual horse. “Those are mine.”

“I can’t believe you let Elijah touch you,” Paris says, pulling a face like she pities me because I must be in a terrible way to fall for her archnemesis. She turns to Elijah and says, “Ugh, you’re such a dweeb,” before she walks off to the feed room, presumably to grab a stash of treats since I’m finished riding.

Right on time, Beau whinnies, shaking his head up and down as if he’s wholeheartedly agreeing with Paris’s statement. Elijah points a finger at him, which makes my usually agreeable gelding pin his ears. Paris and I laugh at Elijah’s expense as I lead Beau out to cross-tie him in the aisleway to untack, groom, and put him to bed.

I lead him into the aisle, the familiar sound of his hooves clip softly against the concrete before grabbing his halter. He’s so good that I don’t have to worry about him walking off. I unbuckle his bridle and slip it carefully over his ears. He lowers his head without me asking, patient as always, while I hang it neatly on the rack outside his stall and replace it with his bright pink halter. Once I've clipped him into the cross ties, he immediately begins nosing against my shirt, checking for any pockets that might have treats. Beau Beau is convinced that every ride ends with snacks.

"You're so subtle,” I tell him, but the little traitor widens his eyes and lifts his chin to see what Paris has when she appears with his favorite reward. The black and gold bag rumples as she digs her hand around, pulling out two soft molasses treats.

Beau’s ears perk the second he spots them.

"That's what you wanted?" I ask, trying to pet his nose. He nudges my arm out of his way, making absolutely no effort to hide the fact that he's already decided every single treat belongs to him. He gobbles up one, smacking his lips as he chews.

"Greedy,” Paris teases him, handing me the other treat to offer him once he finishes what’s in his mouth.

I hold one out on the palm of my hand, and his velvet-soft lips carefully pluck it from my fingers before he begins chewing with exaggerated enthusiasm, his jaw working happily while his bottom lip wiggles just enough to make me laugh. The way his white whiskers jostle with his movements is just cartoonishly cute.

"Oh, is it that good?" Paris asks him, moving away to offer treats to the other horses, who aren’t hanging outside in their run connected to their stall.

Beau licks his lips dramatically before letting out a satisfied little nicker that sounds suspiciously like he's asking for another one.

"You’ve had enough," I press a kiss against the end of his nose. I work quickly to untack Beau, and snicker as Buster makes a ruckus in his stall. He’s doing a great job of letting everyone know that he is not being served as quickly as he thinks he should be.

I’m putting Beau back in his stall, and watching to make sure he gets a big drink of water when I hear the main barn doors open.

When I walk out, shutting Beau in behind me, Elijah walks up to wrap an arm around me. It’s Noah and Ben and, my stomach drops when I see who they’re with.