By Fault Page 8

  “Walk on.”

  Xander was distracted by another horse walking past the arena and completely ignored Vince, who sighed and repeated the command, this time with a wave of the whip behind Xander.

  Xander echoed Vince’s sigh, but moved away at a walk. Vince allowed the lunge line to uncoil until Xander was the correct distance away, then asked for a trot. This time Xander listened and Vince didn’t need to move the whip again until he asked for a directional change. In one easy motion he switched both his line and whip hands, holding the whip out in front of Xander. Xander switched directions smoothly and continued to listen to Vince’s every command. He even stopped perfectly when Vince said, “Whoa.”

  As soon as he stopped, Vince dropped the whip and let Xander walk toward him. A few steps in, Xander put his hoof on the lunge line and jerked his head with a grunt. Even then he didn’t panic, just moved his foot again.

  “Dumbass,” Vince chuckled affectionately as he folded the line in his hands before Xander could step on it again.

  Xander was just as unfazed by the whip being wound up again beside him as he had been to it touching him earlier. Vince smiled and gave Xander a kiss on the forehead before leading him from the arena.

  Chapter Eleven

  VINCE SUGGESTED they do the actual interview in the trailer to avoid more interruptions and curious onlookers. The trailer parking area wasn’t subject to security checks like the stable area was, so they were free to bring other people there.

  Miranda and Tom both seemed impressed by the trailer, and their expressions reminded Vince of when he’d first looked inside the thing himself. He’d gotten so used to living in it that he’d forgotten how nice it actually was. It had been used before Vince had gotten it, but it definitely didn’t look like it.

  “Do you just get ribbons and money when you win?” Miranda asked, looking at the string of ribbons circling half the living space.

  Vince, once again embarrassed because he felt like he was bragging, showed them to the trailer part of the trailer, where he stored the horse blankets he’d won in some classes. A spare tack box was almost full of baseball caps with sponsor names and logos on them and a stack of boxes containing rather expensive watches Vince never would have owned if he hadn’t won them. There was also a collection of sashes and neck ribbons some classes gave out.

  “I’m still waiting for him to win me a car,” Dustin joked when Vince pointed out that he let Dustin have whatever hats or watches that he wanted.

  “You can win cars?” Miranda asked with wide eyes.

  Vince nodded. “I haven’t yet, but yes.”

  They sat at the table for the interview itself, and Miranda made sure the ribbons on the wall were visible in the background. Vince spent some time explaining how the shows worked, how the first round and jump-off decided the winner, how four faults were earned for knocking down a jump and single faults for each second over the allowed time. He also explained the size of the jumps and the course in general at his level. Then he talked about his relationship with Xander, how he had rescued and trained him, and the fact that he had decided to show Xander at this level in memory of his mother who had died of breast cancer fairly soon after he had started training Xander.

  “She always wanted me to pursue my dream of competing internationally,” Vince finished. “So I’ll compete with Xander until he starts giving me the feeling that he’s not up to it anymore.”

  Dustin, sitting beside Vince, was also a part of the interview and seemed less nervous than Vince had expected him to be for never having done one before. He explained what his responsibilities were as the groom, in both keeping Xander ready and Vince organized.

  “He keeps me sane too,” Vince added. He couldn’t hold back a fond smile when he glanced at Dustin. “I would have gone out of my mind here without him. There’s just so much going on.”

  Dustin returned the smile. “I try.”

  Of course, they had to talk about their relationship at least a little. They didn’t tell Dustin’s story, only that Vince had given him a job as a stable hand. Nor did they mention Hunter, not that Vince wanted to hide his place in Vince’s life. He just wanted to have some bit of privacy. The world didn’t need to know everything about him. At least not yet.

  WITH ALL the added attention on him over the last several classes, even Vince noticed how many more people wished him luck or just watched him wherever he went. While he was walking the course, he was stopped by one of the riders who at first hadn’t liked him because of his lack of expensive training. After wishing him luck, he nodded into the noisy stands.

  “I see you’ve got yourself a fan club.”

  Vince followed the other rider’s gaze and saw a group of people he didn’t recognize holding up a sign that read “Team Anderson.”

  He’d looked over the list of competitors like he always did before every class, and he knew no one else in the class had that name—first, last, or equine.

  “Oh my God,” he breathed, unsure if he felt proud or embarrassed.

  Fully aware that he looked like a jackass just standing there and staring, he made himself smile and wave to the strangers who clearly were there to support him. They shrieked and cheered and waved back. Vince gave another tiny wave before going back to looking over the course.

  At least he wasn’t a nobody anymore.

  And the excitement was contagious. Vince had to follow his own advice to Carla from a few days ago and downplay the class in his mind. This was just another Grand Prix; he wasn’t on the edge of setting some new record for wins at this show series. Definitely not.

  Even if that’s what the show announcer felt the need to tell everyone at the beginning of the class. And in the middle, right before the show paused for the tractors to groom the arena for the second half of the competitors.

  “Why do I feel like they put you after the drag break just to build more anticipation?” Dustin asked at the warm-up ring as he held Xander’s bridle.

  Vince swung up into the saddle and got himself situated. “They probably did. Did you look at the list? The first half is mostly full of names I’ve rarely heard, which is where I should be. I’m the only one in the second group without an Olympic medal to my name.”

  “Maybe that’s a sign,” Dustin offered, rubbing Xander’s neck.

  “That I’m way out of my league maybe,” Vince muttered.

  As Vince directed Xander away from the fence, he swore he heard Dustin snort.

  The last thing Vince wanted to do was get caught up in doing well and get disappointed when they had an off day. And he sure as hell didn’t want to hurt Dustin again.

  When he got another look at the crowd as he approached the in gate on Xander, it had grown, something Vince hadn’t thought possible. He couldn’t see any empty space anywhere in the stands and for a fleeting second he hoped the wooden bridge above him wouldn’t collapse under all the people who had to be standing on it.

  A firm grip on his shin brought his focus back and he looked down at Dustin. Dustin didn’t say anything, but his smile and the way he ran a hand up and down Vince’s shin were comforting—even with his high boots on. Vince put the reins in one hand and reached down. His intent was to grip Dustin’s shoulder, but Dustin caught Vince’s hand in his and squeezed gently. Vince smiled and squeezed back, then moved his hand back to the reins as the gate went up.

  Xander caught the energy as they trotted in, head and ears perking up and extending his trot into something Vince was sure could rival that of a Grand Prix dressage horse.

  “Show-off,” Vince grumbled fondly. “Save it for the jumps.”

  The crowd was eerily silent as they approached the first jump, but the brief bout of applause they got when they landed clear perked Xander up even more. By the time they had made it over three jumps, Vince was sure Xander actually was showing off. He launched himself a bit higher than usual and Vince could feel him snap his front hooves up even closer to his body, and his rear hooves lifted just s
lightly higher than usual. He didn’t get so excited that he forgot his training, though. He never tossed his head or threw any bucks like some horses did when they got excited.

  Practically sprouting wings was enough.

  When they landed after the final fence, Vince heard the crowd really erupt. He couldn’t hold back a grin or a triumphant raise of his fist—not over his head, just to shoulder level. Xander was practically strutting to the gate and Vince had to laugh as he rubbed Xander’s neck. Then, unsure where the compulsion came from, he waved to the crowd, which just got them to applaud him again.

  Dustin was grinning too. As soon as they were away from the gate, Vince hopped down and gave Dustin a tight hug. Dustin returned the hug with one arm, his other hand on the reins.

  “Out of your league, my ass,” Dustin laughed.

  Vince had to laugh himself as he broke the embrace. “For now, you win.”

  “Go on and watch the rest of the class,” Dustin encouraged. “I have Xane.”

  “Thank you.”

  There ended up being seven pairs in the jump-off, with three pairs before Vince and Xander, and three after. Of the first three, not a single one managed to not take down a rail. So of course the announcer decided that Vince and Xander would be the first pair to go clear.

  The crowd was even louder than they had been in the first round, especially when Xander flawlessly jumped the fence that all of the other three had taken down. The sound when they cleared the final jump without touching a rail was utterly deafening. This time Vince let his fist pump go above his head and he put more effort into the wave he gave to the crowd.

  Instead of getting off Xander this time, he rode around in the warm-up ring with the final two competitors. He kept the reins completely loose and even kicked his feet from the stirrups in an effort to relax. If another pair went clear and even a tenth of a second faster than they had been, Vince and Xander wouldn’t take first place.

  Though he couldn’t see the arena, it was easy to hear the announcer and the crowd. The cheering wasn’t as loud for anyone else, but he still heard a collective groan when a rail went down for the next pair. The pair after that also took down a rail, but Vince was worried about the final pair to go, Theo Welch and his chestnut stallion, Starbound. Vince had watched them secure the gold medal for the British team at the London Olympics. Frankly, Vince was seriously intimidated by being in the same class as them.

  And judging by the noise of the crowd, they were doing very well. The swell of cheering at the end was an ominous sign.

  He tried to hear the announcer, but all he caught was “Two-tenths of a second—” before the speakers all crackled and cheering drowned everything out.

  Vince looked for Dustin at the rail and saw him running back from the in gate. “Two-tenths which way?” he called, pulling close to the rail.

  “You!” Dustin yelled, reaching the arena.

  Vince couldn’t hold back his laugh of relief, or his massive grin that mirrored Dustin’s. He held out an arm and Dustin stepped onto the second rung of the fence. Xander danced a little beneath Vince as he pulled Dustin into a one-armed hug, then gave him a quick, hard kiss before letting him go. Vince no longer cared about the fucking cameras all around him. Screw whatever haters there were.

  Chapter Twelve

  VINCE WOKE up the next morning to the 8:01 alarm that Dustin now had a habit of setting for him. Though Vince appreciated the chance to sleep, he had to admit that he preferred early mornings when he could wake up with Dustin. Ever since they’d started living together, Vince found waking up by himself to be rather lonely.

  He climbed down from the bed and started some coffee. By the time he’d gotten dressed and answered all the messages on his phone congratulating him on another big win, the coffee was done. Two travel mugs in hand and cereal bars in his pocket, he headed for the barns.

  Dustin was sitting on Vince’s tack box, one hand under his chin as he read something on his phone. Xander’s soft nicker alerted him to Vince’s approach and he made room for Vince with a smile.

  Vince handed over a mug and sat down. “Anything good?”

  Dustin’s smile became a grin as he took the coffee. “I found the best article about you. Ever.” He scrolled back up his phone’s screen and showed Vince the article’s title, laughing at Vince’s expression.

  “He’s In-Vince-able.”

  “Well, I guess that was only a matter of time.” Vince sighed. “Just don’t tell me that’s what Tom wrote.”

  “That won’t get published for a few days at least. They need to edit the video too. But,” Dustin added with a laugh, tapping around on his phone again, “someone else there did choose this pun for their update.”

  He turned the screen back to Vince and Vince cringed.

  “Topping Them All.”

  “I’d say that’s definitely meant to be a pun,” Dustin stated.

  Vince rubbed his face. “I guess I jumped from number two to number one overnight?”

  “Was that a pun?”

  Vince had to laugh. “I guess it was.”

  Dustin leaned over and kissed Vince on the cheek. “Yes. You are now at the top of the standings for the country, ninth in the world.”

  For a moment all Vince could do was stare at the horse across the aisle from them. He was one of the top ten riders in the world. Wow. Without thinking about it, he reached one hand to his neck and grasped the ring that hung there beneath his shirt. His mom’s wedding ring. For the first time in a long time he hoped heaven was real and she could see him now.

  A gentle touch on his thigh brought him back to reality.

  “You okay?” Dustin asked softly.

  Vince let go of the ring to grip Dustin’s hand. “Yeah.” The fact that his voice cracked on such a simple word was not beyond him.

  The fact that he was actually crying, however, didn’t occur to him until Dustin brushed his cheeks with his other hand.

  “I just really wish my mom was here,” Vince tried to explain, voice quiet and tight with pain.

  “I know,” Dustin replied gently. He tried to pull Vince into a hug, but Vince pulled away.

  “I don’t want to break down here,” Vince whispered, trying to heal the hurt look Dustin gave him. “I want a hug, but I don’t want people to see me bawling my eyes out and start an equestrian tabloid just to sell their theories.”

  Dustin gave him an understanding smile. “Well, whenever and wherever you need it, I’ll give you the best hug I possibly can.”

  “You always do,” Vince murmured, giving in to a tiny smile of his own.

  With another quick rub of Vince’s thigh, Dustin stood. “Come on, then. Stuff to do.”

  Vince followed. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” Dustin declared before taking a sip of his coffee. “Especially for bringing me coffee.”

  Vince chuckled. “You’re welcome.”

  VINCE WON again that afternoon, making him wish even more that his mom was there. He even wished his dad was in the stands for once, though he knew that watching Vince compete without his wife was hard for Wes. Vince knew his dad supported him, but he still wanted him to be there to support him in person. Dustin’s love and support meant the world to Vince, but it was suddenly a little lonely without more people he was close to actually being at the show to watch.

  The steady drizzle that blew in that evening seemed to echo his mood, and even Dustin was quieter than usual. Vince planned to ask Dustin if he was okay, but when he finished with his shower, he found Dustin sitting at the table with his head in his hands. The envelope Vince was used to seeing lying unopened on Dustin’s nightstand was in front of him. It was finally open, and a letter written in a gentle flowing script rested between Dustin’s elbows.

  Vince sat down silently beside Dustin and gently stroked a hand down Dustin’s back. Dustin took a deep breath and wiped his eyes before pushing the letter toward Vince.

  “Please read it so I don’t have to tell yo
u about it,” Dustin whispered, his voice strained with pain. “I need some air.”

  Vince took his hand away as Dustin got to his feet and stuffed his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants. As he started toward the door, though, Vince stopped him.

  “Here,” Vince said gently. He grabbed a jacket off the couch and tossed it to Dustin.

  Dustin silently pulled it on, then continued to the door.

  “Dust,” Vince added as Dustin opened the door. When Dustin paused he finished, “I’m here. When you need me, I’m right here.”

  Dustin just nodded and slipped out the door.

  Vince couldn’t help feeling rather uncomfortable about reading the letter. Despite the fact that Dustin had asked him to read it, Vince still felt like he was prying. Was he going to find himself hating Dustin’s parents even more than he did?

  Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to start reading.

  MY DUSTIN, my Angel,

  I don’t know why I’m writing this. I know you will never see it. Maybe I’m writing it for myself. Maybe part of me hopes Eve will find this one day and not despise me for my failures.

  But I deserve to be despised. For my failure as a mother I deserve the fires of Hell.

  I tried to protect you, I really did. I fought so hard for both of you, but even more for you. You were my strength. The violence and the hate I could take, but it killed me when he would try to hurt you. When I saw him hit you, shake you, yell in your face, I broke inside. No matter what I tried to do for you, he knew you were the symbol of why he had grown to hate me. If he had ever loved me at all. But still I fought for you. And still I failed you.

  I failed you.

  I had hoped you would stay in the neighborhood somewhere, that maybe he would calm down. But I’ve seen no sign of you for two days. I pray every day for God to keep you safe and to help you. Begging your father has done nothing. And it never will.

  He is finally rid of you, and it’s my fault. If I hadn’t used you as my act of rebellion, he wouldn’t have hated you even more than he hates me. For that I will be eternally guilty.