Crushing on Royalty (The Cuttings #1) [To Be Reconstructed]

Chapter 21 | Locked Trapped Lockley

When I'd thought about what Emerson and Michael had said regarding whooping my ass, it wasn't what I had expected at all.

We were in the humongous garden grounds, fresh out of the Cuttings' stable in brown breeches and white polo shirts, a pair of tan leather gloves and beautifully tailored equestrian jackets -- green for me and red for Emerson. We were going to play the traditional Cutting game: horse racing.

"You ready for it, Keller?" Emerson piped up, bouncing in front of me ecstatically, her silver eyes dancing in challenge and excitement.

In front of the two of us was a massive -- and I mean, massive -- horse that looked like it could eat me alive. I saw four mahogany legs and the muscled torso and rump of a powerful hunter. Her eyes were the color of birch and her head bowed down low as Emerson gave it a piece of carrot.

Written in its face said, "I will eat you, Keller."

God, I did not like this horse. Not one bit.

I mean, the horse wasn't doing anything wrong to me in particular but I just didn't like the way she was eating that piece of carrot. Tell me I was insane but, jeez, how she was munching that vegetable!

"Um," I told Emerson, after stepping back two times away from her and the horse. "Not really..."

She scrunched her brows. "Well, why ever not? I don't see anything wrong with old Tessie here! Don't you reckon, Tessie?" she cooed to the horse. "Tessie isn't going to do you any harm. She's perfectly harmless. She's as gentle as a knapsack."

I eyed the horse again. Tessie did look decent enough not to eat me alive...

"Okay," I mumbled. "I'll ride her."

I'd ridden some horses when I was a kid. My parents used to take me to the ranch of our relatives for a vacation back in South Carolina. But I'd always been guided by my uncle, who cared for his horses.

I certainly was no expert.

As I looked into Tessie's birch-coloured eyes, I felt kind of better because she looked warm and pleasant. Emerson turned around, placing a gloved hand up to shield her eyes.

"Oh lovely, Michael's here with his horse, Onyx!"

I turned toward the direction she was looking at, seeing the rider of the black beast, wearing gleaming leather riding boots and a pair of buckskin riding breeches which fit him to perfection. He looked as much as a marquess could be: aristocratic and incredibly handsome in every way. In his left hand was a brown rein, leading a silver-coated stallion with snowy white hooves, which possibly belonged to Emerson.

When Michael reached our side, I was mesmerized by the two horses.

Emerson ran to her horse named Gabrielle and Michael grinned wickedly as he saw the wonder in my eyes as I saw the pretty horse -- but when I stared into his black stallion's dark eyes...

"Meet Onyx," he said proudly. "He's an Arabian stallion; been my horse for four years now. He's fast, obedient, loyal, and headstrong."

I could feel Onyx glaring at me through glassy, black eyes.

It was official: I, Keller Blakely, was not animal friendly.

Cookie didn't like me -- he mocked me, in fact; Slippy wanted to maul me alive whenever she saw me (she'd kept licking my face, like I was some chicken leg), and now Onyx here was shooting daggers in my direction! It was a good thing Gabrielle and my new horse Tessie seemed nice and gentle --

Goddamit, Gabrielle just snorted furiously in my direction.

This made me want to whine.

Emerson felt something was wrong in the picture so she looked at Gabrielle, Onyx, Michael and me. With a raised eyebrow, she asked her brother, "What's wrong?"