Page 8 of Reins

The clasp holding the ruby onto my ring is so worn from me rubbing it, the silver is nearly paper thin. I should stop, but I can’t.

It’s the constant reminder of why my life is the way it is. Tying me to the past that I can barely remember.

My brothers each have one too. Theirs are broader, with the gem inlaid so they won’t catch.

John didn’t seem to mind if mine does. At least he had it made large enough that it would still fit me as an adult.

Not that I want to wear it any more. The simple symbol feels like an anchor.

A chain around my neck.

Ava’s birthstone. The sister I rarely think about missing, yet begrudge her very existence.

It’s her fault I’m here, trapped by my older brothers under the guise of protection.

I hate it here.

Staring out the window, my thumb idly drifts across the faceted red edge as I watch them loading my horse into the trailer.

This is the only thing that they allow, only because she did it too.

Somedays I wonder if they would have rather had me die than her.

“Sal?” Eli calls my name through the door before he knocks, the staccato of his knuckles against the wood drums his impatience. “You’re supposed to be in the fucking truck.”

Maybe I won’t go?

I’ll just rot in this room.

My silence will anger him, but my apathy is begging for anything different.

“Rosalyn,” he growls, twisting the handle.

I’m really going to piss him off now that he knows I had it locked.

Do I want him to kick it in?

Not today.

With a sigh, I pull myself up from my dressing table and yank the knob open. “What?” I stare at him with an intentionally blank expression. “It’s messed up if you’re trying to catch me naked, you sick bastard.”

Flipping him off doesn’t make me feel any better as I brush past him.

“Entitled brat,” he huffs in a loud whisper.

I’m tempted to ask if I can leave. Again. It’d solve all of our problems.

Except I already know the answer.

“You made me this way,” I retort, then point at my bag just inside my room. “Be useful and get those.”

I’m not above being a complete jerk to him.

John has the air of authority with a hint of caring. But Eli? He’s just a bitch doing whatever our oldest brother says.

“Did you make sure that Petunia has that new grain blend loaded?” I don’t bother turning to ask, striding down the hall towards the main entrance.

“Yea, your damn horse has all of her special food.” He picks up my luggage, then sets it immediately back down. “What the hell is in here? Why are they always so damn heavy?”