They Said I Did Not Belong, So I Won Anyway novel · Chapter 5 of 5
Chapter 5: The Room He Cannot Leave
I caught Julian’s key before it struck the concrete. ‘You can unlock the tack room, or you can stop following me.’
He looked at the key in my hand, then at me. Rory’s voice still carried from the medicine corridor.
‘Mara.’
‘That is my name.’
‘You heard what Rory said.’
‘Everybody heard him.’
The key was warm from his pocket. His fingers closed around mine, taking it back without forcing me to release it.
I let go.
He unlocked the tack room.
The door opened on leather, saddle soap, and damp wool. I stepped inside and switched on the light above the sign-out board.
The board held clipped sheets, pencil marks, and the names of every horse moved through the stable that night. I left the light burning.
Anyone coming down the corridor would show in its glare.
‘You’re making a habit of leaving doors open,’ Julian said.
‘This one is closed.’
‘You’re still watching the corridor.’
‘You’re still watching me.’
He shut the door behind us but did not turn the latch. The room was narrow enough that his shoulders nearly touched both rows of bridles.
I set my hand on the nearest saddle. The leather was cold and stiff beneath my palm.
‘Rory thinks the tag was used to reach the medicine cabinet,’ he said.
‘Rory thinks what the evidence tells him.’
‘The board thinks the same thing.’
‘The board checked my license twice before letting me ride. They like paperwork.’
‘They may suspend you before the championship.’
The five thousand dollars pressed against my jacket pocket. Dani’s tuition deadline sat six weeks away. Every lost ride took money from the only plan I had.
I had no room for a clean escape.
Julian moved closer. ‘You should leave Blackthorn tonight.’
‘You offered that before.’
‘You refused.’
‘You remember well.’
‘I remember when people make bad decisions.’
‘Then you must be tired of remembering yourself.’
His expression stayed fixed, but his mouth tightened. The insult landed. Good.
I needed him close enough to answer without a boardroom voice.
‘Why are you still here?’ he asked.
‘Rory assigns my mounts.’
‘That is an arrangement. It is not a reason.’
‘I ride where I’m paid to ride.’
‘You could ride somewhere else.’
‘You keep saying that.’
‘You keep refusing.’
I faced him fully. The room smelled of horse sweat beneath the soap, warm and sharp from the stalls beyond the wall.
‘You want me gone,’ I said. ‘Victor wants me watched. The board wants my license. Celeste wants me embarrassed. You want me to leave. That covers most of the family.’
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