Hot Revenge Box Set 4

The trail is lovely, the winter sun streaming through the trees, their naked boughs casting an intricate tracery of light and shade.

But I’m in no mood to enjoy it. Charlie stamps and judders under me, tossing her head. I pull back on the reins. “I don't know what's wrong with her today.”

My Master is cool. “It’s not the horse, Charlotte, but the rider. You're in a mood and Charlie's picking up your mood. You’re perching in the saddle as though you’re the one about to bolt. And if you jerk the reins like that again, I’ll take them from you. Charlie doesn’t deserve to be the butt of your temper.”

He’s right…

But so what?

Clicking my tongue, I urge Charlie forward and she breaks into a trot, but her eyes roll back at me…

“Charlotte...”

… I urge on my mount. The air is fresh on my skin. The sun shimmers and dances to the leaf-littered ground. But nothing dispels the clouds in my head.

“Charlotte!” My Master’s voice snaps like a whip. With a thunder of hooves, Oliver pulls up beside me and my Master reaches across, snatching at Charlie’s bridle. “You may be angry with me, but you will not ignore me.”

He wrenches the reins from my hands then leads me, with Charlie, to a tree, looping the reins over a branch. Swinging a long leg over his saddle he dismounts then snaps a gesture to the ground. “Down!”

My throat dry, I obey. My Master reaches, catching me as my feet touch turf, then pushing me backward, my spine pressed flat against a tree trunk.

His face close to mine, he hisses at me, “I am trying to be fair to both you and Georgie. And both of you are giving me a hard time. I'm caught between a rock and a hard place here, Charlotte. And I don't care for it. You are treating me as though I have done something I should apologise for, and I do not believe, or accept, I have done anything to deserve that.”

I have nothing to say.

*****

Michael

The pair blow in through the door, in theory, together.

James stalks in, face reddened. Charlotte follows and, without a word or a smile, disappears into the kitchen.

I watch her scuttle away, then catch James by the arm. “What’s going on?”

James swipes a hand through his hair, blows air through puffed cheeks. “Georgie.” Then spinning, face set, he strides out again. The door slams closed behind him.

This has gone on long enough…

I hover by the window, listening for the crunch of footsteps on gravel to fade, then head for the kitchen where Charlotte is taking one of Cara’s feed bottles from the fridge.

mine and then back to the

me. What d’you think you’re up

as she puts the bottle into the microwave, she keeps

I’m talking about. I don’t

here….” Still, she doesn’t look at me… “… Into

And Georgie

useful. But nothing’s happening. It achieves nothing. “She didn’t want anything to do with me before,” she mutters. “Or with Cara. Or with him. Why should I make her welcome here? I don’t even know why he wants her here.

over her… “… Georgie is James’ daughter.” She tries to slide away but I lay hands on the worktop either side of her, caging her between my arms. It’s not often

of my voice. “I have to say, Charlotte, I didn't think you were this

as long as I've known him. And now,

me…” she snaps… “… When we met her in that clothes store, that time, when she saw I was pregnant, she was just awful. To me. And to

problem, of course, is that every word Charlotte says is

but it’s not

had just discovered her father's new wife is a woman

you’re better

her chin juts and her lips

releasing her. Scratching at

fuck to deal with

?

It’s Mitch, cradling

arm from mother to daughter.

me…”

At least she’s listening…

baby girl gurgles and chuckles.

Charlotte’s jaw drops. “Mom…”

mine does

and how it should be….” Mitch moves closer and, in her embrace, Cara burbles and bubbles. “…Ask yourself a question. If something happened: a fire, or a car accident… a terrorist attack maybe… and you were

mouth flaps. “Mom,

look away, not wanting to let my

core of steel

the wall. If you had no other choice, me

eyes glossy. “Cara,” she

think…” Cara supported in one arm, she strokes Charlotte’s cheek, tucks a lock of hair behind an ear, “… Georgie is James’ child. I know it upset you when he left us, but of course he had to go

imperceptibly, Charlotte is trembling. She sucks at her

of your own, you are robbed of your child?

eyes grow

have her back comes, wouldn’t you want