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“Like you’ll pay someone off? And what do I do on my wedding night? Squeeze ketchup on the sheets?”
I stop listening at wedding night and pull on my boots. She’s trying to provoke me. I look her over and nod. She’s almost back to herself. She still jumps at sudden loud noises, and there are moments I witness her panic when we’re alone, and she deems me a threat. We’ll get there, though.
I have noted how she hasn’t worn makeup apart from a little lip gloss since the night her friends were over. I haven’t taken her makeup away, but she just hasn’t put it on.
“Ready?”
She purses her lips in irritation but nods and slips her phone into her pocket. I set my hand on her lower back and guide her out of my room and through the house. We walk side by side to the stables. The morning air is crisp. A fog has settled over the grounds, making for strange but beautiful views.
“Was that Santi you were talking to?” she asks too casually. She’s worried, though. I hear it.
I nod.
“Any change?”
“No.”
We reach the stables, and she goes to Temperance’s stall. She keeps her back to me as she greets the horse, her high ponytail swinging. “Does he blame me?”
“Of course not. You had nothing to do with what happened to Ivy.”
I go to her and saddle her horse. I know she hates that I help her, but she’s going to have to get used to it. While I secure the saddle, she bridles Temperance. When she doesn’t respond, I turn her to face me and tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet my eyes.
“What happened to Ivy wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”
She shrugs a shoulder but can’t quite hold my gaze.
“Mercedes.”
“Judge.” She rolls her eyes and pushes past me to mount her horse. She moves with ease and assurance, and it helps that the horse likes her. “Can we go already?”
I nod and glance at the horse I’d bought for Theron. She’s smaller than Temperance. I think of my brother. Of the calls my mother has been receiving that are disconnected almost as soon as they connect. And I don’t tell Mercedes that when I think of him, I think of the boy I knew before his twenty-fifth birthday. Because he’s in trouble. The things Ezra has turned up leave no doubt.
“I’ll go without you if you can’t be bothered,” Mercedes says.
“You’ll do no such thing.” I get Kentucky Lightning ready, and we ride for a long time that morning. Long enough to watch the sun burn off the fog racing each other, testing each other’s skill. And in spite of herself, I do see Mercedes smile. She even laughs before she catches herself. I don’t comment.
“Are you trying not to take me by that outbuilding?” she asks me as we circle back to the stables the long way around.
“Are you in a hurry to get to the house? I thought you’d enjoy more time outside.”
“Tell me the truth, Judge.”
“I don’t want you upset.”
“I won’t be upset. You all have to stop treating me with kid gloves. I’m stronger for what happened.”
“It’s okay to be fragile sometimes.”
“You mean weak.”
“I mean fragile. It’ll take time for the trauma—”
“There’s no fucking trauma,” she snaps and clicks her tongue. Temperance gallops off as Mercedes guides her in exactly the direction I was trying to avoid.
“For fuck’s sake.” I go after her, catching up and leaning over to take her reins and at least slow Temperance down. “Take it easy.”
She snatches the reins back into her gloved hands, and we ride in tense silence toward the outbuilding that houses the punishment room. Once we reach it, she dismounts.
