Page 9 of Reins

Without pausing, he flops the largest suitcase on its side and begins to unzip it.

“Screw you, Eli.” My foot lands on the flap before he can lift it. “I’m not a child. You have no right to go through my shit.”

We freeze in a glowering contest. A test of wills that has been going on for over a decade.

With a disgruntled snort, he throws up his arms and stomps away. “Then you haul your own crap. It’s only a two day event, for fuck’s sake.”

He doesn’t know I pack everything, each time, desperately hoping that this will be the trip where I get away.

This bubble wrap they keep me cloistered in is suffocating me.

And my stupid bag has wheels.

Chilly mid-November air hits me as I wrestle my suitcase outside, but I don’t let Eli see me struggle.

With a straight back and a tilt to my chin, I stride across the large paved driveway with my bag in tow.

John pauses with his own duffel in his hands, cocking his head. “Where’s Eli?”

Shrugging, I deposit the handle into its recesses and walk to the opposite side of the truck.

Without waiting, I climb into the passenger seat and insert my earbuds.

It’s my only escape from having to actually converse with either of my brothers. Fortunately, Eli decided to stay behind this time.

I shouldn’t complain. They aren’t as bad as my parents were.

There was a reason I think Ava latched on to that McCullough guy. He was her chance to escape.

Neither John or Eli have ever hit me. Or forced me to spend days locked in a pitch black basement.

Their cruelty is framed in care. A reluctance to relinquish control. I might not have fresh red welts on the backs of my thighs, but they’re slowly crushing my soul.

How much longer until I do something drastic, or dumb, to try and get away?

All I can do today is enjoy the change in scenery.

Wait, was there someone in that black SUV parked along the road?

I’m curious enough to shift in my seat, but when I glance back it looks empty.

My mind must be slipping.

When we pull up to the massive enclosed arena where the competition is being held, John drops the ramp on the trailer to unload Petunia.

“There’s something wrong.” I stop him before he can lead her out.

Dashing inside, I ignore the thick haze of hay dust settling over me to inspect the jagged line of blood at her shoulder.

“Shh, girl. It’s okay,” I murmur, tracing the scabbed edge. “John? It’s deep.” I could push my finger into the wound past the second joint if I wanted.

She’s not putting any weight on the leg.

Fuck. I was looking forward to having a few hours amongst other people.

With a sigh, my older brother ushers me out. “I’ll bring you home, then we’ll get the vet to take a look.” He lifts the heavy door and slides the bolt back into place.

Tears prick my eyes, but I’m a pro at keeping them at bay. “Okay.”