SWAT Ed: Fox & Bull (Nothing Special 8)

The horse lifted one of his front legs as if he was about to come towards him, and every part of Fox went still. He cautiously placed his hand on top of the door, remembering what Bull had told him about rescued animals. That some of them had gone through really traumatic experiences, so it was always best to earn their trust instead of trying to take it. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m not gonna—”

“Hey!” Dale hollered. “Get away from him!”

Fox frowned, confused at Dale’s order. But before he could turn and tell the foreman to shut the fuck up, the huge horse snorted loud enough to make him flinch, then charged at the door. Fox leapt to the side just in time before the beast’s head rammed into the wood hard enough to rattle the hinges. The animal shook its mane wildly, its beautiful hair flying all over its head as if he was trying to make himself appear even larger than he already was.

“Fuck.” Fox clutched his hand to his chest. He hadn’t been afraid; he was more worried the horse had hurt himself with that insane headbutt. The horse started to stomp and snort harder than a rank bull.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Dale asked, gripping the sleeve of Fox’s jacket.

The horse crashed into the door again, the noise piercing and terrifying.

“Let go,” Fox growled, yanking his arm free.

“I just saved your life.” Dale threw his hands up in the air. He cut his eyes to the horse and snarled. “Diablo will cave your damn chest in if you get too close.”

Fox was still standing to the side, but now that Diablo had come from the back of his stall, Fox was able to get a clearer look at his eyes. They locked gazes, and Fox gasped at the enchanting feeling that shifted in his chest. The horse appeared haunted, as if he’d seen too much and lived through even more. “Jesus.” Fox blinked.

“No. Quite the opposite.” Dale stood far enough away that if Diablo broke through on one of his rams, Dale would have a running start to get to safety.

“Diablo,” Fox said softly, his gaze lingering over the horse’s body. He looked strong, his midnight, velvety coat brilliant and glistening even with the absence of light. So big and healthy. There were some marks on his hip, and his flank was marked with welts that appeared to have healed long ago. Only the psychological damage seemed to have remained.

Dale narrowed his eyes as he glared at Diablo as if he was his personal enemy. “He’s called Diablo cuz he’s the goddamn devil!” Dale barked, making Diablo jerk back into the darkness, his snorting coming louder and faster.

Fox whipped his hand out and shoved Dale away from the stall. “You’re scaring him, dumbass.”

Dale’s startled eyes got impossibly wide, maybe surprised at Fox’s strength. “I saved your life, and this is my thanks?”

“Saved me from what?”

“Forget it.” Dale shoved Fox to the side as he marched past.

Once he was alone, Fox dropped his chin to his chest and took a deep breath. Fuck. He didn’t even know what’d just happened. He wasn’t sure why he’d reacted that way over an animal, but when he saw Diablo recoil and cower back into his stall, he’d simply responded.

There was an overturned bucket of carrots where Dale had dropped Fox’s tack. He went to it and removed a couple. “Did you get some treats too?” Fox whispered, carefully making his way back to the door where the big black horse had returned to his original position, safe in his shadow, stiff and vigilant. Fox’s steps were light, his movements slow and delicate as he placed the vegetables on the top of the wall. “Here you go.”

He was almost out of the stuffy barn when he turned and saw Diablo creep up to the door, his ears twitching and his dark eyes searching for danger… or maybe a trap. He quickly devoured the carrots before lowering his head and turning away again.

The burden that weighed on Fox’s neck and the tension that rested between his shoulder blades felt a little less heavy for the first time in his life. It’d been there for so long that Fox had learned to live with it and not dwell on the constant discomfort.

“Dale.” Bull sighed, rubbing at the tension building behind his tired eyes. He was operating on little sleep again, and he’d been hoping his foreman would pick up the slack for him today since he still had his private session with Fox, and two horses to train this evening. “Trust me, Fox is a decent guy once you get to know him. And he’s doing a good job.”

“As what again?” Dale’s voice got higher. “A goddamn land surveyor? Bullshit. Something’s off with that guy. I don’t trust him.”