THE NEW saddle’s name was Kimberly.
She was a pretty little thing. A vixen, if you will. I could tell that Rhys had taken a particular liking to the woman. He was always asking for her every night. It had been going on for two weeks, and he still had not changed his favorite pick of the day. He was even taking her personally, alone, with no other saddles to accompany her.
I grew something inside of my heart. I nurtured it, night by night, for every second and every hour. It grew malignant like something evil had taken root inside. It was jealousy, I soon realized. I had never, ever felt jealousy over Rhys and his saddles because I knew I had no power to control it. Because I knew there was no meaning whatsoever to the scene, except for Rhys’ personal pleasure and maybe to torment me.
