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No answer.
I knock harder. “Xavier, open up. Let’s eat lunch.”
I wait for several long seconds.
Still nothing.
I knock again, even harder.
“Leave me alone!”
I step back from the door at his roar.
Okay. I swallow hard. So he’s home. Good to know.
Then I turn around and run back down the stairs.
Sixteen
Xavier stays locked up in his room for four whole days.
Leaving me to do all the work of keeping up a horse farm on my own. I drop into bed each night exhausted and heartsick. Sleeping in a bed without his big body beside me feels wrong now. Which makes me furious. Come to think of it, pretty much everything makes me furious these days.
Like the motherfucking too-dry tasteless scrambled eggs I shove into my mouth on the morning of the fifth day. I was spacing out while I cooked them, wondering about a certain asshole who’s decided he just gets to check out while I’m left here as his slave doing all the work of two or three people. He’s insane trying to run this place by himself. The horses need exercise and him telling me not to ride them is bullshit.
Well, screw him. If he wants me to obey him, he can goddamned well get his ass out here and tell me himself.
Because I’m out here feeding his goddamned horses all on my own.
Before sunrise, with a flashlight.
I push into the stable and yank on the cord that turns on a couple of lights.
“Good morning. Yep, still just me,” I announce. “Your Dad is still being a piss-ant and leaving everything to Auntie Mel. I know, I know, I’m not nearly as entertaining as Mr. Frowny-pants, but you’ll survive.”
Then I begin the arduous task of feeding and watering everyone.
I approach Lulu’s stall. “Don’t even give me your attitude this morning, Miss Thang. I promise you I will out-bitch you today.”
For once, she just steps back like a good little pony and lets me give her fresh feed and water.
“That’s right, you respect your elders.”
I’m just standing back up and stepping out of her stall when I feel it.
A cramp.
I cringe and grab my abdomen.
Shit.
I close my eyes and hang my head.
And then all my bravado sweeps out in one swift wave. I slump down on the stable floor and start to cry.
If I’m cramping that means I’m getting my period.
And if I’m getting my period that means I’m not pregnant.
The tears turn to sobs.
Above me, Lulu noses at the top of her stall, making a repeated bump, bump noise. I look up through my tear-heavy lashes and smile at her.
She’s picking up on my mood and seems anxious. I pull myself up off the ground. “Thanks, hon. We ladies gotta stick together, huh?” I give her nose an affectionate rub. She leans into me.
She was the last I had to feed, so I decide to head back to the house to rest for a bit before turning them out for the day.
About halfway there, my anger lights back up.
Because screw Xavier.
I do not feel like mucking out the damn stalls today. It’s backbreaking work and my back always aches already when I’m on the rag. I’ve been absolutely exhausted the past four nights. I refuse to do all this work by myself for another day.
Yes, Holy Hellfire dying was sad. Devastating even.
But there are nine horses that are still alive who need him.
Not to mention one measly little human woman.
I never asked to be here. He’s the one who basically kidnapped me. So he’s stuck with me. He wanted to be my goddamned Master? Well, he can’t just bugger off from the role whenever he feels like it.
I stomp up the stairs. Another brief little cramp hits and I grab my abdomen as I go. Ugh, I don’t even want to think about the fact that I’m probably bleeding all over my underwear.
He’s got the damn tampons. Another reason to break his stupid door down if I have to. I don’t exactly know how I’ll accomplish that… but never underestimate the power of a pissed off woman!
I pound on his door repeatedly with a closed fist.
“Open up, goddamn you,” I yell. “I’ve got cramps which means I’m getting my period, and if you don’t open this door, so help me God, I’ll—”
The door swings open before I can complete my threat. A good thing because I don’t know exactly how I was going to finish that sentence.
Xavier looks like shit.
Pale, gaunt, and unshaven. His hair is unwashed and wild and is that… whisky? He stinks like some sort of strong alcohol. His eyes are bloodshot with it.
He immediately reaches for me, dragging me inside the room.
“Wait, I—”
He lays me down on the bed and draws down my jeans. Then, to my utter embarrassment, he examines my underwear. It’s one of those situations where I want to cover my face, but I’m curious, so I look down. There are just a couple spots of red on my panties.
