Page 100 of Forbidden Forget-Me-Not

Heavy footsteps drew closer, and the beam of a flashlight swept across the walls like a strobe light.

Atlas, obviously confused and curious by what I was up to, nudged me where I was crouched down. I glared at him and tried to push his head away.

“Go over there.”

But he just thought it was a new game and kept coming back for more.

A flashlight beam cut across the far wall.

“Who’s there?”

I didn’t move. I didn’t dare breathe.

Don’t be brave. Just lock it and walk away.

The beam moved closer.

The guard’s shadow stepped into view, a radio in his hand. He reached out and touched the sliding lock on the stall.

I bit my lip and stared at the reins that would be visible if he looked down.

Atlas nudged me again. I handed him some hay, hoping he would lift his head so the guard would assume Atlas had unlocked the stall himself. He could have if it hadn’t been locked properly.

The guard lifted the radio to his mouth, but it was suddenly knocked out of his hand and clattered ot the floor. Another shadow swallowed him. The guard made choking sounds, boots scraping uselessly against concrete, then silence.

I poked my head up and looked through the bars to see Goran ease the man to the floor. He checked for a pulse, then pulled out zip ties from somewhere and rolled the guard over as he tied his hands together.

Goran looked at me, and my lungs finally remembered how to work.

“You weren’t supposed to follow me.”

Goran’s eyes were hard. “Good thing I don’t listen to you.”

I blushed.

“Let’s get going.”

My chest tightened. “Is he⁠—”

“Alive. He’ll wake up with a headache and a story he won’t want to repeat. I’ll put him in the lounge.”

He dragged the guard away as I turned and grabbed my saddle, heaving it onto Atlas’s back.

“I’m sorry about this, Handsome. I know you just got home, but we need to leave again,” I cooed to Atlas as I put on his tack.

“We don’t have long,” Goran said as he returned to the stall. “Your father wasn’t kidding about extra guards. There are like ten of them at the gate.”

“Okay,” I murmured as I slipped the bridle over Atlas’s head. “I’ve got you. I just need you to trust me, big guy.”

His breath puffed warm against my shoulder.

I tightened the girth on the saddle and nodded to Goran to open the stall door.

We stepped out into the aisle and prayed the other horses wouldn’t get excited and give us away. Horses were in tune with routine, and when something new happened, they were terrible tattletales with a bad case of FOMO.

Goran moved ahead of us, scanning the aisle, then stepped outside first.

The air felt colder now, like a warning. We slowly walked Atlas toward the path that led to the waiting truck and trailer. Every footstep felt as if it could give us away.