“What. The fuck. Did. You. Say?”
“She seemed to think you were comin’ with money, but we both know you don’t have a dime. Why else would you need my money?” He cocked his head and I wanted to twist it off his neck.
I raised a pointed finger instead. “I won it for her, you fucking idiot.”
“And, what? You’ve got magical savings? Or do your parents hand you whatever you need? Maybe it was them who wouldn’t approve of you with her, so you had to go and take my money to run off with instead?”
Theyloveher.
“I don’t need to explain myself to you, asshole. Where the fuck did she go?”
“You mean after I fucked her, or before? Pretty sure she came—”
The rest of that night turned into a murky blur. Jared had been behind me the whole time, but by the time he grabbed me, I was too far gone into the blackness.
42
Carver
The Plans
Iheld Lyra until her tears stopped and she nodded off in my arms. Gently working my way from beneath her, I reached for my phone.
Hayes: New lil fella is out in your pasture.
That was it. One message, straightforward, from over an hour ago. I hadn’t even heard his truck pull up, but he probably went to the furthest gate he could, preferring the more private approach.
Carver: Thanks. I owe you another time slot.
Hayes: Don’t know how much longer I’ll need that for. Appreciate it, though.
Carver:If you tell him, I had nothing to do with it.
Hayes: Has to find out sooner or later.
I pocketed my phone, sure if I asked what that meant, Hayes would go silent. He wasn’t much of a talker as it was, and knowing too much about what he did with those time slots was likely to cause issues. Issues I wouldn’t be able to focus on because right now, the only thing on my mind was righting what had been done to my wife.
Lyra shuddered on the bed, wrapping her arms around her chest. I carefully worked the blanket from under her, only to cover her and kiss her cheek, whispering that I loved her.
Not knowing how long she’d sleep for, I taped a note on the door.
Image of a note, which reads: Ly, In the barn. If you read this and I’m not here, eat something, then come out in those jeans and your boots. Love, Car
Careful not to wake her, I shut each door as if the house was made of glass. By the time I made it to the barn, I left the doors wide open, keeping an eye on our bedroom window as I gathered flakes of hay to cap off the troughs with. The other horse, an unnamed rescue that had been skin and bones months ago but now sported a slightly rounded belly, snorted as I passed.
“Missed ya too.” I tossed a few flakes into her trough, the snort she gave this time sending pieces of hay into my face. “How kind of you,” I said, spreading the sarcasm thick like she’d understand.
“Talkin’ to the horses?”
“They like it.” I cocked my head over my shoulder, growling low as I took in my wife. “Those notes might end up bein’ the death of me if you follow them that closely.”
Her arms crossed loosely over her bare chest. “Wasn’t that part of the rules?”
“It was.” I turned and leaned against the stall gate, my perusal starting at the flowery leather boots that turned into light-wash jeans as I moved up, and up, onto smooth and creamy skin. Bare skin.
“Was?”
“Yeah. Was.”
