Locked In Silence (Pelican Bay 1)

Dallas had described the black and white monstrosity as “ornery” but not dangerous. And while the “not dangerous” part had been accurate, the “ornery” part had been way off the mark.

The animal was a menace.

Jerry had seemed friendly enough at first as he’d come to check me out as I’d cleaned the stalls that opened into the large paddock the animals shared, but I’d quickly figured out it was all a ploy to lull me into a false sense of security.

It had started when Jerry had inadvertently knocked over the pitchfork I’d had leaning against the wall. I’d jokingly admonished the animal and urged him out of the stall. The second I’d had my back turned, Jerry had been back to sniff through the wheelbarrow full of shit.

The wheelbarrow that had ended up overturned seconds later.

It had been followed by the full water bucket I’d momentarily set on the floor of the stall getting tipped over, forcing me to clean up the wet shavings for the second time.

The second I’d gotten the stall perfectly clean, Jerry had taken a dump and a piss in it. I’d once again shooed him off, re-cleaned, and then moved to the next stall.

Where the process had started all over again.

It wasn’t until almost three hours later as I’d been cleaning the last stall that Dallas had shown up, spied Jerry in the stall with me, and then promptly asked me why I hadn’t closed the outer stall doors leading to the paddock to keep Jerry out.

If I’d been holding the pitchfork in my hand, I’d have probably stabbed Dallas in the foot with it. As it was, I’d managed a polite smile, thanked him for pointing that out as an option three hours after the fact and proceeded to the paddock to scrub the water trough and refill it.

The water trough Jerry knocked me into when it was still half full of icy cold water.

Which was the reason I was in my current predicament.

Standing half-naked in Dallas’s bathroom, a towel wrapped around my waist as I waited for the man to appear with the promised clothes.

As if he’d had some kind of crystal ball, Dallas had shown up within seconds of Jerry pushing me into the trough. With my humiliation complete, I’d cursed Jerry and my new boss and had stomped toward the small barn so I could finish my last assignment of the day, feeding the animals. My goal had been to save the few remaining scraps of my pride by getting the hell out of there and going home to cry in my shower and then crawl between the clean sheets of my bed.

Dallas, of course, had had other plans.

He’d stuck around to help me feed the animals, and when I’d bid him farewell and headed toward my car, he’d snagged my arm in a tight grip and practically dragged me toward the blue farmhouse on the southwest corner of the property. With darkness falling, I’d been too cold and tired to protest much. I’d barely even gotten a look at the inside of the warm house before Dallas had led me to a bathroom on the second floor and pointed to the shower and then my clothes. I’d gotten the gist of his demand and had been too damn uncomfortable to even consider arguing.

Of course, I hadn’t been expecting him to steal my clothes while I’d been in the shower.

The shower with the tempered glass walls.

I studied myself in the mirror as I took in the things Dallas would have been able to see if he’d chosen to look hard enough as he’d been collecting my clothes.

My scrawny body.

Limbs that were too long and gangly.

Pale skin.

I shook my head. “What the hell are you doing?” I asked my reflection.

I jumped at the knock on the door and then carefully opened it a crack. Dallas was holding a bundle of clothes for me, which he promptly handed my way. He kept his eyes averted and as soon as I took the clothes, he pointed down and then disappeared, leaving me to wonder if that was his way of telling me to come downstairs when I was done.

The fact that he’d worked so hard not to look at me should have had me feeling relieved, since it meant he wouldn’t have likely paid me any attention while I’d been in the shower. But all I felt was humiliation of a different kind.

“You’re ridiculous,” I muttered to my reflection once again as I placed the clothes on the vanity. The clothes Dallas had given me included a pair of sweatpants that thankfully had a drawstring and a soft, white T-shirt. Both items of clothing were way too big on me, but they were dry and didn’t reek of dog shit and ornery zebra, so I was happy.