Dangerous Love

Even with all the pain and darkness I harbored deep down inside, and the anger that had only temporarily subsided, I knew what was about to happen. The same thing that had always happened whenever she had asked me for help.

Down the rabbit hole I go.

“One look,” I caved, the words escaping on a breath I had been holding since long before I became a Black Angel.

Ronnie’s gasp stumbled out of her mouth—out of relief or surprise, I didn’t know.

Her trembling lip and her tear-filled eyes looked up to me and I turned away, unable to face the gratitude circling within them.

Ronnie worked fast, unwilling to provide me the opportunity to rescind my offer as she climbed onto the back of the trailer. I waited, watching her undo the latch with a soft firm grip. She didn’t make a sound as she lowered down the tongue of the trailer, letting it drop onto the pavement with tiniest of clinks. She flicked a few more small latches and secured any loose ropes until only the gate separated her and the dark shadow inside.

Through the glimpses of sliced light cutting through the slats in the far end of the trailer, tragic pain filled my chest as I saw the familiar brown fur. It had been a long time since I’d seen her, and although I wished it was a different horse, I also hadn’t expected any other.

Ronnie became even more quiet. She pulled back the gate in a smooth steady motion and secured it to the outside of the trailer. Stepping back up next to the ramp, she reached in for the leading rein, loosening it from the bar with slow, cautious movements. Her eyes flickered back and forth to the large animal beside her, standing with an eerie stillness as Ronnie backed out of the trailer one step at a time.

Even the crowd still standing by the door seemed to have quieted under the atmosphere.

Ronnie allowed slack on the rope to punctuate her every step until she stopped with the length of rope in her small, calloused hands at the bottom of the ramp, a safe distance from the horse.

I didn’t miss a single thing and could feel the frown already fixed on my face. Ronnie glanced over her shoulder, catching my expression. Her eyes turned down and away, the pain and shame radiating from her like a rain cloud hanging above her head. It made my hands tighten at my sides.

I knew this horse. She was a seal brown thoroughbred called Max, and she was Ronnie’s best friend. At the beginning, Max was a strong horse and had a rebellious nature, so much so she couldn’t even be considered for a race horse. B ut Ronnie fought in her corner and ended up keeping her for herself despite Max’s difficulty. Even when I advised the brat against it, Ronnie hadn’t listened to me. She was stubborn and bullheaded as always, and every step of the way Ronnie had been determined to train Max. The road was long and difficult, but the bond the two built became unbreakable. Ronnie loved Max and Max loved her.

When I saw Ronnie creep into the trailer, I knew something was very, very wrong.

I saw her chest rise with a deep breath and shaking hands trying to still before she began to pull at the rope. Max’s head got a slight tug in our direction.

That was all it took.

Max bucked against its side and the trailer let out a horrifying screech. She crashed against it left and right, and I heard the shouts of surprise of the club members behind me. At the sound of danger, the men were yelling and dragging the screaming kids and startled women inside.

I spun back to Ronnie, only to see her desperately fighting with the rope as the large animal bucked, kicked, and slammed into the edges of the trailer without care of the pain it was inflicting on itself.

This situation is getting out of hand.

Max gave a terrified shriek, her hind crashing against the wall of the trailer, causing a cry of metal as the trailer nearly tipped onto one side. It slammed back to the concrete with a resounding bang, and the jerking motion did the trick.

Max was free.

I didn’t even think as I lunged for Ronnie, grabbing the rope straight out of her hands, shoving her out the way and behind me just as the horse jolted out of the trailer. Max bolted across the lot, gaining speed as the slack of the rope was eaten by the distance in less than a second.

The rope gave a mighty snap and it was the only warning I got before I was pulled forward after her. The concrete came up in front of my face. I was about to get a mouthful of blood, teeth, and grit had my timeless instincts not kicked in.

Ronnie’s warning cry was late. I shoved my feet out in front of me; my spine straightened and threw my center of gravity away from Max’s direction. My boots hit the concrete, and burning rubber filled my nose as I was dragged on behind her.

For a second, my resistant soles slowed her run and the slightest bit of slack was gifted back to me. I took the opportunity and wound the rope around my forearms as fast as I could and adjusted my weight back.

She pulled. Hard.

The rope dug into my skin and tightened around it stronger than any snake, and I couldn’t help the loud roar of pain through gritted teeth.

Max’s fight didn’t wane at my bellow. She bucked and shrieked before bolting again. I held onto the rope, held my ground, and held onto any sense of reason I could, as Max tried to drag me like a rag doll.

I realized too late that I hadn’t pulled the rope in close enough. This wasn’t the wide fields of Texas, and as my eyes flew to a new Jeep positioned in Max’s panicked path, I braced.

Crunching metal, shattering glass, and Max’s shocked shriek shook the air. The vehicle jerked a few feet to the side with a screech and Max’s body slumped into the bending metal.

The large collision did nothing to snap Max free of her blind panic. She stumbled to her feet and jerked forward against the rope. I countered it, using my weight to pull her back into line. She raced forward and I saw Ronnie jump back into the trailer and out of the way as Max headed toward it.

I wrapped the rope round my waist and leaned back even further, pulling Max back enough that she didn’t trip over the ramp. I let her run, fast and with all her might around in a circle, roping her in bit by bit until she was close enough that she couldn’t reach any more cars. I turned with her, leaning my weight into the rope around my back until I felt it begin to wane.

Max’s weighted pull on the rope slowed, and her exhaustion set in.

Twenty minutes later, her legs shook so much they were barely holding her up. Hoarse, grated breaths heaved in and out her mouth, her eyes lowered and head hanging to the ground. All her energy had been used up.

I hissed and let the rope slacken from behind my back, then unwound it from my forearm. A fresh, throbbing wound stung at the touch of air as a trail of blood trickled over my tattoos where my skin had torn.

Ignoring that pain for now, I focused my attention on wrapping a quick Honda knot at my end of the rope before giving a small, steady pull, bringing Max about eight feet from me at the center of the circle, but it was more than close enough.

Using my good arm, I swung the lasso in the air and released it as naturally as one might toss a horseshoe. But unlike others, I never missed, and the rope cleared Max’s long face and slipped down her broad, sweat-dampened neck. She stiffened as it sunk down onto her shoulders but otherwise didn’t have the energy to fight it.

I kept it loose as I walked her back near the club house. I led her up next to the wall with me on the other side of her, and when I reached the end, I turned and walked back up the length again. Both of us regaining our lost air and resting our tired muscles.

It was there, as I calmly watched her move up and down one side, that I looked at her condition. This close, I could see the scars that her dark hair had hidden, an arc of jagged, angry marks over her rump that dragged down to her thigh.

Animal attack.

It was likely to have been some variation of cougar or bobcat or one of the other breeds of wild beasts that lived in the area surrounding the ranches Max lived on.

I sighed with defeat in my chest and soul as I walked Max back from the wall and across the car lot.

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Ronnie stood in silence by the trailer, dry tear tracks on her cheeks, fresh ones filling her eyes. I saw her biting down on her lip, her shoulders tucked into her chest. She was bracing herself.

I took a deep breath. “I’ll do it.”

Ronnie’s heart was written across her face as it flooded with relief. She bent over like she’d been punched in her stomach, her breathing stuttering in and out of her. When she looked back up to me, she was crying.

“Thank yo—”

“Not for you,” I interrupted. “I’ll help. But I’m not doing it for you.”

Whatever reaction Ronnie had disappeared as her walls came up. She knew where I stood. This wasn’t a start over for us or a chance. This was just a business deal.

Like every time I’d done this before, I would do it for the horse. For the creature that needed my help when everyone else refused. Because I was Max’s chance for a happy life. A happy life I could give back to her.

But not one I was offering to Ronnie.

Her chance had long passed.

Ronnie took a deep breath and dried her tears. She looked to Max and then to me. She swallowed, cleared her throat and with a clear voice, she said simply, “Okay.”

RONNIE