I need to punch in a code to get back into the bar, and that requires me turning away from James so I can look at the keypad. But I feel like if I break eye contact, he’ll use that time to rush at me, attacking like a wild animal.
Sweat drips down my back, and the itchy anxiety sweater is now a zip-up onesie. With footies. And a hood that’s pulled tight around my face. The ties are wrapping around my neck, making it hard to breathe.
“My wife wants to leave me now.” James comes closer. “And take my child with her.”
“You…you should have thought about that before you cheated on her.” It takes great effort to keep my voice level. My fingers shake, and I blindly hit buttons, thinking I got the combination right.
I didn’t.
I get two more tries before it’ll lock me out for five minutes. I don’t have five minutes.
James narrows his eyes and balls his fist. “You’re going to pay for this, bitch.”
I sidestep back, bumping into the wall. Then the door flies open and Logan jumps out, shoving James hard in the chest. James takes a swing at Logan, who blocks the blow and pops James square in the nose.
“What the fuck is the matter with you?” Logan shouts, taking one of James’s arms and twisting it behind his back. “I should beat the shit out of you for even thinking about hitting a woman.”
He pulls James’s arm back further and then shoves him down into the grass.
“Logan…Thank you,” I say in a shaky voice. I look at him, and all he does is flick his eyes to up mine. “Do you want me to call Wes?”
“I got this.”
“I can—”
“Just go back inside.” He looks back at James, who’s too drunk to upright himself now that he’s down, reminding me of a turtle on its back.
“Logan,” I start, heart sinking. The anxiety onesie is back, but this time it’s wrapping me up in an extra blanket of dread and regret. Logan lifts his head, eyes meeting mine.
I should see anger. Hell, I want to see anger. Because knowing he’s pissed at me would hurt a lot less than the disappointment and hurt I see reflected in his deep brown eyes. Disappointment I know my words caused him.
My words I wish I could take back. Because as much as it scares me to admit, Logan Dawson has my heart.Chapter 7DanielleI stick my fork into the cake and rest my head against the kitchen cabinet. I trade the fork for a bottle of wine and take a big gulp. I need it to wash down the taste of carrot cake. Normally, I steer clear of this stuff, but it was the only cake Walmart had in their bakery at one AM.
Feeling sick from all the cream cheese frosting, I close the cake box, wipe my eyes, and push myself up off the kitchen floor. I drop my fork in the sink, take the wine, and go out onto the back porch, wanting the quiet of the night to open up and swallow me whole.
Sundance is looking out his Dutch door, head hanging low and his lips slack. He’s nearly asleep, but he perks up and nickers softly when he sees me. I chug another mouthful of wine, grab a pair of flip-flops, and walk through the damp grass to the corral. I spill a bit of the wine when I climb through the wooden fence, and Sundance tries to lick it off my arm when I get to his stall.
“I’ve made a mess of things again,” I tell him, resting my head against his. He nudges me, trying to get to the bottle of wine. “I’m throwing a pity party for one and drinking my problems away. You’re a horse. What do you have to be anxious about?”
I undo the latch and open the door to his stall, squinting in the dark to avoid stepping in a fresh pile of horse poo as I move through his stall and into the barn. I stick my arm through the bars on his interior door, undoing another latch, and go into the aisle. Blindly, I walk through the barn until I come to the cross ties. Then I reach out in front of me for the string to pull to turn the light on.
“Sorry, guys,” I say to Bailey and Alibi, the other two horses. All three are Quarter Horses with similar levels of training. Sundance is the most ornery of the bunch, which is probably why he’s my favorite. His coat is dark chestnut, and he has a thick white blaze on his face.
I take another drink of wine and grab a towel from the cross ties. Shaking it out to make sure there are no spiders, I fold it in two and lay it down in the aisle next to Sundance’s stall.