Page 27 of The Taste of Deceit

“You said you’re waiting until college.”

“Yeah.”

“What if somebody doesn’t want to wait?”

I stare at him, trying to figure out what he’s asking.

“I guess they’re out of luck.”

The words come out as a joke, but when I look at him, he isn’t laughing. His eyes are on me. Not the way they’ve always been. Not the way adults look at kids they’ve known forever. Not the way Daddy’s friends look at me.

A second later he smiles again, and the feeling disappears so quickly I almost convince myself I imagined it.

“You know, while you were gone, Melody had her foal.”

I stare at him for half a second before the words register. “What?” My voice comes out louder than I intend. Melody has been ready to foal for weeks, and I’ve been checking on her every chance I get. Daddy has spent the better part of a month telling me it’ll happen when it happens.

Randy’s grin widens. “Couple hours ago.”

“Why didn’t you start with that?” I jump off the fence before he can answer and start toward the barn. His laughter follows me across the yard, but I barely pay attention to it. All I can think about is Melody and the baby. The excitement chases away the strange feeling that had settled over me a few minutes ago.

The barn door groans as I pull it open. The familiar smell of hay, leather, and horses wraps around me immediately, and I head straight down the center aisle. Moonlight slips through the gaps in the walls, throwing pale stripes across the dirt floor. A mare with a newborn foal would be kept toward the back where things are quieter, so I don’t bother checking the front stalls.

At first, I don’t think anything of it when the nearest stall is empty. Then the next one is empty too. By the time I reach the back of the barn, my pace has slowed considerably. The stall where Melody should be standing is filled with fresh hay, but that’s all it contains. No mare. No foal. No evidence that either one was ever there.

I stop and stare at it, trying to make sense of what I’m looking at. For a moment, I wonder if I came to the wrong stall, but that’s impossible. I know this barn better than I know my own bedroom. Confusion gives way to unease as I turn around to ask Randy what the hell he’s talking about.

The question never leaves my mouth. Randy is standing several feet away in the center of the aisle. I hadn’t heard him come in behind me. Hadn’t heard his boots on the dirt floor. The open barn door sits beyond him, framing him against the moonlight.

“Where’s Melody?” I ask.

Randy doesn’t answer right away. He looks at me, and suddenly the barn feels a lot smaller than it did a minute ago.

“Where’s Melody?” I ask again.

Instead of answering, he starts toward me. Every instinct I have tells me to leave. I move toward the aisle, intending to go around him, but the second I do, he shifts directly into my path. My pulse jumps.

“Randy.”

He takes another step.

“Get the hell out of my way.”

His eyes move over my face, and something cold settles in my chest. I step to the side again, determined to go around him whether he likes it or not, but before I can get past him, his hand closes around my arm. The grip is hard enough to make me gasp.

“Randy, let go of me.”

I yank against him, but he doesn’t let go. The lie about Melody. The empty stall. The way he positioned himself between me and the door. Every piece crashes together at once.

Before I can react, he shoves me backward. My shoulders slam into the wooden wall of the stall hard enough to rattle the boards behind me. Pain shoots through my back, and for a second all I can do is stare at him.

Nothing about this feels real.

“Randy, let me go.”

My voice comes out thin. His hand tightens around my arm instead of releasing it. I keep waiting for this to make sense. I keep waiting for him to laugh and tell me it’s some kind of stupid joke.

“Sarah.”