I had a moment’s confusion when I woke up. The plastic bucket at my head smelled like grain and horse spit; the blanket smelled of pure horses; and I smelled like sweat, s*x, and semen. I heard Bessie and Silver Star snorting around in the paddock. I rolled over to peer out at them through the slats, realizing at the same second that the horses are okay, just hungry, and that Sean was gone.
Oh s**t, did I just get played?
Reluctantly, I pulled my jeans over and checked the pockets. My wallet was there, intact, nothing taken. The truck keys were in the pocket where I’d left them, the keys to the horse trailer—all there.
I groaned as I got up. I’m a little too old to be sleeping on a floor; my knees creaked as I shook out my legs. The morning air was chilly and misty; it made my testicles
