Page 38 of Rough

My heart ached for him trying to imagine what it had been like to survive something like that. I blinked back the instant tears.

“Then why—”

“I’m not like my brothers. I wasn’t then, and I’m not now. I wanted off the ranch and to hang with my friends at the fair.” He told me about a barfing contest and how he’d been late for the agreed upon pick up time. “If I’d shown up when I was supposed to, we’d have been ahead of the storm.”

I set my hand on his arm, squeezed. His muscle was like a rock without any give. So strong, but yet he revealed how fragile he was. How damaged.

“Boyd, it’s not your fault.”

“I’d been too eager to see Bobby Sweetin hurl.”

“You were twelve. That’s what boys that age like to do. They’re gross and a little selfish.”

“Not every middle schooler has their selfish actions kill their parents,” he countered.

“The rock slide killed them. When you finally showed up, were they mad?”

He looked into the distance, as if not seeing the mountains, but into the past. “No. They were standing by the front of the car talking with friends of theirs.”

“So they were fine staying at the fair longer. Maybe if you’d shown up on time, they’d have remained and chatted anyway.”

Frowning, he remained quiet.

“You’ll have to tell me about them sometime. They’d be proud of you, knowing all you’ve accomplished. They’d be honored that you cared for them so much you took on this burden of their deaths. But they wouldn’t want you to carry that.”

His gaze dropped to mine.

“Would they?” I asked.

He hesitated, then shook his head. There was nothing more to say about the topic for now. He’d been living with it for so long, he’d need to think. To process.

“Where’s this special spot you were telling me about?”

Relief washed over his face. His muscles relaxed, and the corner of his mouth tipped up. “I’ll grab the blankets and the food from the back. You grab those toys of yours.”

Just like that, the easygoing Boyd was back. But I’d seen a side of him he probably hadn’t even shown his brothers. That meant things were deep. Real deep.

I opened the cab door and leaned in, grabbed the plug and lube he’d pulled from my bedside drawer. Speaking of deep. I clenched my bottom in anticipation of what was to come.

* * *

BOYD

After grabbingthe blanket and basket, I raised the tailgate back into place. Talking about my parents stirred shit up. Anger. Shame. Guilt. It never went away, but after all this time, I’d gotten pretty damned good at pushing it down and covering it up with wit and cockiness. Unfortunately, Audrey had seen right through all of that from the very beginning.

It’s not your fault.

She’d said exactly what I thought was a lie. She’d also put doubt in my mind. Had I been living with the guilt of a twelve-year-old? Had I been seeing it from a kid’s perspective all this time? I’d waited for my rodeo buddies often enough. People showed up late for shit all the time. Yet no one had been killed in a car accident right after.

I’d forgotten that my parents had been talking with the Gundersons when I ran up to the car. Mom had wrapped an arm around me and squeezed me. Dad had ruffled my hair, and I’d climbed into the back to wait. They’d continued to talk for another five or ten minutes. I remembered now because I’d stuck my head out the window to tell them I had to pee, and I’d even run off to the restroom while they finished their conversation.

Shit, I’d forgotten all about that. I blinked, stared at the back of my truck. Yeah, I’d been late. But that wasn’t the only reason we’d ended up in the canyon when the storm came through. I’d have to think on it, about everything. I’d been so bent out of shape over it—and rightly so—but I wasn’t the only one with a fucked-up childhood. With bad stuff happening to them.

Audrey hadn’t had an easy time. Parents were supposed to take care of their kids, not the other way around. At least Mom and Dad had never once made me think I wasn’t loved or wanted. I’d been lucky, even though they’d died. I had a lot to think about.

But not now. The sun was shining. The spring-fed pool was just over the hill. And I had the best companion ever. My fuckingmate.Soon enough, she’d also be myfuckingmate.

I adjusted myself, went around the truck and halted in my tracks.