Whatever, Cowboy.

Sunset Secrets_9

⚠️This chapter includes very serious topics such as murder/animal abuse, profanity, and traumatic experience. If any of these make you uncomfortable, please skip to the next chapter.⚠️

"Where's that boy of yours when we need 'im?" Tyler's mother scorned silently, heaving her overalls onto her slim but muscular shoulders as she glared out the bedroom window. "Damned horse is 'bout to ruin my baby's life, and there ain't no saving grace for him."

To Malorie's great frustration, Jackson lay mangled and limp on the ground with wide, dull eyes and no signs of breathing. The poor creature couldn't stand for very long anymore, and he certainly wasn't interested in eating. Jackson had signs of shivering and sweating profusely for the past day. Malorie knew exactly what this meant, so she told Tyler to leave and go see Austin, but of course, she hadn't expected to need the athletic boy by her side for this job.

"Damned Horse! Had to put Charlie down for rest, and now I ought to put you down for good." She complained, shaking with tears dripping from her eyes. "My poor baby." She cried. Malorie knew how much this would hurt Tyler. She knew how much this would hurt her. However, she also knew it was painful for Jackson to be alive. Through blurry eyes, she lifted the barrel with her hand and aimed for the horse's head. Just as her finger reached the trigger, headlights swung into the driveway; fast yet steady.

"Ma?" Tyler asked vaguely. What was she doing? He saw her tears through the light, then the rifle, then his horse. His chest screamed and lit ablaze. "No..." Tears swelled his eyes as well, refusing to leave until the image was singed into his brain. "You didn't!" He shouted, running toward her. He had no intent to hurt her, but his instincts told him she needed to move. Move away from Jackson. Move away from the gun. Move away from the stable. Tyler ripped the gun from her hands and threw it, sounding off a shot that rang through their ears. Followed by a muffled thump from behind. "Jack?" He asked the darkness of the night, slowly turning in fear. Not fear of his mother or an animal, but of the monster he now was as himself. Jackson's head was hard against the ground, lifeless. Tyler had shot his horse, his best friend. Malorie, finally able to move after her shock, hugged her child tight around the waist.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Honey! I'm sorry!" She pleaded, her tears bleeding onto Tyler's shirt. "I'm so sorry." She continued, her voice fading from Tyler's ears as he stared ahead. Dazed from the horror he'd just committed. He felt like a monster, an alien to his own farm. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up and warm." She insisted, slowly taking him closer to the house.

Was this his house anymore? Was Tyler a real person? Was this a dream? Surely he couldn't have just ended his best friend's life. And he wouldn't show any emotion for it, that would make him less masculine. But Tyler didn't feel masculine, in fact, he didn't feel anything. All he knew was that he'd just murdered his horse in cold blood and there was nothing to do about it.

"What's that boy's phone number, hun? I'll give him a call and have 'im come over." Malorie offered, phone in hand already.