Chapter 118

“Fay,” Kent calls after me, shaking his head, but I ignore him, walking Heathcliff towards the stables.

I pass Jerome in the same manner, giving him a dirty look as well. He still presses his hand to his face, which is expressionless as he watches me pass.

I’m not blameless in this, I know. I let Jerome continue, I liked the

way it felt when he paid attention to me, flirted with me, told me I

was pretty and let me wonder what it might be like to let him teach

me how to ride the way Western girls ride. What it might be like to kiss him at a campfire under the stars.

But he knows better than that, and so do I.

I’m no cowgirl, even if I wanted to be. It’s an impossibility.

Because I’m the daughter of one major crime lord and the fiancé of another. Where the hell did Jerome think this was going to end?

Where was the happy ending here, for either of us?

I’m fuming as I get Heathcliff into his stall, as I begin to take off his saddle and tack. Out of the corner of my eye I see Jerome pass the stall too, walking to the front of the stable where he had

a

Chapter 118

and catches my eye, but he

word to me.

2/3

sad at myself all at once. And sore, physically sore, where I fell

inner voice rich with sarcasm. Seriously, Jerome aside, what the hell did I think I was playing at? And what business did I have feeling sad, when so many people- Jerome included – had it so much worse

all, he was going to get the brunt of

going to skate on by. Because again – I’m the

crime lord, and engaged to another. And Jerome is a

horribly guilty as I think about

lead him.

surprises me, then, as he lets himself into

Heathcliff’s stall.

with my chores, hanging

is angrier this time,

can damn well wait until I’m finished with

anger grumble in his chest. But he leaves the stall, leaving me alone to finish my

Chapter 118

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