Page 32 of Redemption in the Dark (The Righteous 5)
He lifted an eyebrow at her as his lip curled up in a smile. “That’s very true. Would you like to brush him down?”
Maeve’s eyes lit up. A smile that could stop traffic spread across her face, making his heart race. She was so tempting. Everything she did was dipped in a candy that he wanted to taste as wrong as it was.
She held the stall door open for him to walk about with the tack. He grabbed the grooming kit off the shelf and handed it to her.
“Do you know how to use all this?”
“Yeah.” She blushed and looked away from his eyes. “I was at this place that had lots of horses.”
He could tell she wanted to say more, but he didn’t push, and she didn’t offer. He was tempted to press for the answers, but she was like a wild mustang, you couldn’t force a horse like that to do what you wanted, or they would break you.
“Alright, then. I’ll go get his dinner and water. I’m trying to figure out how to get him back to his owner without letting whoever was chasing us know where I am. For now, I think I’m just going to have to settle for being a horse thief.”
Maeve laughed, and the sound reminded him of tinkling wind chimes. Wolf watched her walk into the stall, and a cool breeze traveled along his heated skin. His spine straightened as a memory of his youth, and the sound of his ancestors singing came to him.
He remembered the night well as he watched his father dance. The drums had been loud as the fire wavered brightly back and forth like it was dancing to the warrior’s song. Something about her was stirring old memories, ones that he didn’t see as significant at the time, or maybe he’d pushed aside in his pursuit to seem less Indigenous.
It was stupid of him, but to his young mind, he only saw his family as unaccepted by those he went to school with and craved to know what it felt like to be adored and have tons of doting friends. He wanted to know what it would be like to walk down a hallway and not hear a racist slur or be pushed into the lockers to see if he’d fight back. Just once, he wanted to be looked at with eyes that didn’t see him for who his parents were and instead for who he was as a person.
Maeve turned and looked over her shoulder at him, and he sucked in a sharp breath as she smiled. Something about her smile told him she’d seen more pain than laughs. He pictured her screaming as she fought off an invisible force so strong that it felt like a gut punch. He was left confused with the strange sensation that made him want to wrap his arms around her and protect her from whatever had hurt her.
What is my mind trying to tell me?
He left Maeve to get hay and make a mash for Viho. The stallion had put up with the two of them on his back for two weeks. He deserved a lot more than a tasty meal. While he waited for the buckets of water to fill, he wandered around to make sure that, Unole, the guy he’d hired to take care of the barn while he was away, had done what he’d asked.
No one was expecting him back, so if something was being missed, this was when he’d find it, but he nodded his approval as he checked all the stalls to find them clean and ready for those coming in from the paddocks for the night.
The new load of hay was neatly stacked, the manure pile had been removed, and every surface and all the tack had been wiped down. He glanced at the large whiteboard where they kept all the important information and chores to be done, and everything was checked off. He had to admit the place looked better than when he’d left.
Picking up the two water buckets, he returned to the stall and stopped, not wanting to interfere with the moment between Maeve and Viho. She was standing in front of the horse, her words so soft that they were barely a whisper as she rested her cheek on the white star that was the only other color on his chestnut coat. The stallion stood with his head resting happily in her arms, his eyes closed. He quietly set the buckets down and leaned against the side of a stall as he gave them their space.
Tears trailed down her cheeks, and his heart broke a little more for the woman that held demons in her heart and mind but had a warrior’s spirit. She battled every day, he’d seen firsthand the suffering she’d fought, and he didn’t wish that type of dark agony on his worst enemy.
From the bits she’d told him and the parts he was able to see for himself, pain, fear, and desire had become the drugs she sought to numb whatever haunted her. At some point, they’d become the crutches she relied on to make it through the day. She craved the buzz because it was what she was used to doing to feel better. It would be easy to believe that her behavior was that of a wild girl in her twenties looking to explore herself. Yet, he’d paid attention over the last couple of weeks, and he saw demons dancing behind her eyes as they taunted her.
Wolf had seen that consuming darkness staring back at him through her eyes. It tried to find a way to burn him to ash and devour him as it had to all those who came before him, but he wouldn’t let her use him that way. He wouldn’t let himself become the next slice on her arm.
Her eyes opened, and their eyes locked. It lasted for only a moment, but he could see the woman buried deep under the scar tissue. Maeve stood straight and looked away as she wiped away the tears. He picked up the water, went into the stall, and didn’t acknowledge that she’d been crying. It was her special moment with Viho—two wild spirits coming together in a moment of calm before the next storm.
He clipped the buckets to the wall and made a second trip to bring the hay and the mash. Before long, they were making their way up the driveway back to the house as a set of lights headed down the driveway. Maeve swiveled and ducked behind him.
“Should I run,” she asked, her voice a whisper.
“No, you’re okay.” He could feel her body sag against his before she stepped up beside him again.
Wolf raised his hand in greeting, and Unole waved back with a smile. The guy, who was not much younger than he was, looked Maeve up and down, and a smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he puffed out his wide chest. A spark of jealousy began to burn a hole in his gut as Maeve smiled and waved back. He could see her out of the corner of his eye, and the flirtatious mask was firmly in place.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said, his voice coming out angrier than he intended. Maeve looked up at him with the gleam of defiance burning in her eyes. “Unless you don’t want my protection, that is.”
She lifted a brow at him and crossed her arms over her chest as Unole came to a stop in front of them. “Waya, I didn’t expect you back. Dohitsu?”
He hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his pants. “I’m good. It was a long ride. The place looks great.”
Unole smiled. “Thanks, the mares are getting heavy with foal. Seem to double in size every day now.”
Maeve looked between them, and even though he had the urge to push her away and tell Unole not to look at her, he knew that was not rational. The strange green emotion was not sitting well in his stomach.
“Unole, this is Maeve. She will be staying with me for a while. Maeve, this is Unole. He takes care of everything here when I’m away.”
