Saddles & Sabotage by Nellie K Neves

Author:Nellie K Neves [Neves, Nellie K]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781719916837
Published: 2018-09-18T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

A sharp pain shot through my shoulder blades, then my lower back. My body rocked with each one, and confusion spread through my brain like a thick syrup. I finally identified the source, Dixie’s boot as she shoved me with the pointy toe.

“Cassidy, you gotta get up. How late were you out there? Geez.” She shoved me again and I cried out from the pain. Her voice turned annoyed. “Oh I’m not pushing you that hard, don’t be such a baby.”

If I’d had strength left in my body I would have grabbed her leg and dropped her to the floor, but every muscle on my left side felt raw and movement wasn’t easy.

“Seriously, get up. You’re going to make me late.” Dixie bent down and yanked the blanket from my face. Her breath sucked in sharp. The damage had to be bad.

“Wha- wha- what happened to you?” she stammered.

I hadn’t taken the time to think of consequences or what I could or couldn’t tell. I had no lies ready. I had nothing but pain. I opted for advice my father had given me years before, If you can’t think of something safe to say, ask for a lawyer and say nothing. With no hope of a lawyer, no comment was definitely my only option.

“I need to get to my Uncle Tate’s place. Can you help me up?” I managed in my strained voice.

I could see her forehead wrinkled, eyebrows lifted high with fright. I tried to count everything I’d been slammed into the night before, the barn, the ground when that horse tossed me, the rock face when I was slammed against it like a rag doll, and then my collision with the river. It was a wonder I wasn’t shattered on impact.

When Dixie got me to my feet she looked around for my flip flops. “Your sandals are gone.”

With great effort I managed to brace my arm against the bunk bed for support. “I lost them last night. Near the tack shed.”

My mind flooded with memories of being dragged across the yard by rough hands, helpless and gasping for air. I closed my eyes to pinch out the memory and when I opened them I found Dixie’s nervous stare.

“Help me with my boots,” I said.

She helped me shove my boots on beneath my pajama pants and then she looped my arm across her shoulders. Being late had its benefits. The guests weren’t up yet and the staff were still gathered for the breakfast meeting. Dixie was quiet until we crossed the parking lot to Isabelle’s cabin. “Did that freak who’s been killing people do this to you?”

I knew I couldn’t answer her question. My investigation depended on careful compartmentalization of the evidence. Pounding footsteps in the gravel behind us saved me from an answer.

“Dixie!” Tate yelled as he jogged toward us, “What’s going on?”

My roommate unraveled like a knitting box. “I tried to wake her up, but she wouldn’t move and then,” tears fell over her rosy cheekbones and splattered against her top, “I pulled back the blanket and she’s all beat up.

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