Ten Year Grudge

I led Bayou into the barn, muttering to myself, "I'm going to kill her. Should have told me that damn horse was crazy. If he attacks one of my mares I'll kill him."
"What's the matter?" Vic asked from a stall.
"Leah's damn loco stallion attacked us."
Vic's head popped out of the stall. "ATTACKED you?"
"Yes ATTACKED me. I think he was more after Bayou."
"Are you talking about the OTTB she brought in? The one that was abused?"
"Leah got another horse?" Ace called from the hay loft.
Damn, I'd forgotten about THAT particular pain in my ass.
"She pulled a colt out of a claiming race a few weeks ago and asked Nik to keep him while she found him a home." Vic offered.
"Stallion. He's nearly eight. I don't know what she was thinking. That horse is dangerous. I hate to see any good horse put down, but that was not a good horse."
"Maybe she wants you to work with him," Ace said, as he jumped nimbly from the third rung on the ladder.
"What she wants me to do and what I will do are two totally different things."
"She asked you to hire me didn't she?"
I spared him a glare as I took Bayou's bridle into the tack room. "She called me at five o'clock this morning to tell me that my father and your mother were driving you crazy and remind me that I was looking for a second hand."
"You were?"
"Damn," I muttered.
"What happened to that other guy? Blake? Drake?"
I ground my teeth together. "Drake. Yeah, Drake's gone."
"He quit or something?"
"Or something."
"I thought you had something going with him-."
"Drop it Ace," I snapped. I went back to Bayou's stall and loosened the gelding's cinch.
"Shut up Ace," Vic seconded when I heard his mouth pop back open.
I pulled the saddle off Bayou's back and headed back to the tack room. How the hell was I going to live with the son of a bitch until he got the apartment above the barn fixed up?

At the end of the day I lead Ace up to the house. I opened the front door and Delia rushed past me, barking madly.
"What's the matter bebe?" he asked, squatting, ruffling the puppy's ears.
Delia wagged her tail furiously and lapped at Ace's cheek. Traitor.
"I remember Rex didn't like me at all," Ace commented.
"He didn't like men," I said over my shoulder as I went through the door. "Bring her in when you come in."
He followed me in with Delia on his heels. "She seems to."
"She doesn't know any better."
"That reminds me. A few weeks ago, when I was living in my apartment, I was taking the trash out and found this dog near the dumpster..."
I turned around and looked at him. "And?"
"Well I couldn't just leave him out there could I? I brought him in with me and have been working on getting him back up to par."
"Where is he now?" I demanded.
"At my mother's," he responded.
"You left a defenseless animal within a mile of my father?!" I demanded.
"Temporarily. I didn't know if you would let me stay. And I didn't want him to stay in the car all day."
"Give me that," I said, gesturing for his suitcase, "and go rescue that poor dog from my father's evil clutches."
"Where do you want me to put it?"
"Give it to me and I'll put it downstairs."
"I can do that."
"Ace stop being so damn stubborn and give me the bag." I gripped it and gave it a small yank.
Ace pulled back with more force, unbalancing me. I fell on his muscular chest, unbalancing him. He stumbled backwards into the door, sandwiched between it and me. He'd grabbed my waist to keep me balanced and it bugged me to no end that I didn't mind his hands there. That wasn't the only part of his body I could feel either. The length of his legs were pressed against mine, my hands were pressed to the wall of his chest, and I could feel his breath against my temple.
For a moment, we both just stood there. My mind, what part of it was functioning that is, was thinking, "oh wow."
As soon as that thought entered my brain, I realized what was happening. He was my step brother for Christ's sake. His mother was the reason my family had been ruined. Why my mother had had to work two jobs to keep the wolf from the door. My suffering through high school and college, barely being able to ride. I tore out of his arms like a wild thing.
"Fine then, go put the bag downstairs," I told him.
"Niki..." he said as I pivoted on my heel to run.
I was going to say, "let's forget it ever happened." But then that would be implying that something HAD happened. So instead, I composed my face, turned around, looked him square in the eye and said, "what?"
He just looked at me for a second then responded with, "nothing."