Page 50 of Redemption

I’m not sure how much time passes before Beck stands to his full height and takes a few steps backward. “That’s where you’re wrong, Pres. I may not know what’s gone down in your life since you left, and vice versa, but I know you. I see you, whether you want me to or not. You can’t hide whatever it is that you’re holdin’ onto forever. When you’re ready to talk, you know where to find me.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” I mutter.

The infuriating man simply winks before stepping onto the porch. I watch out the kitchen window as he walks away, wondering what the hell I’m going to do about him. Avoiding Beck would take some serious effort, and quite frankly, I don’t think I want to. I’ve been lugging around secrets and shame for so long, I didn’t realize how tightly wound that made me until now. And the reason I’ve come to that realization is that when Beck was standing here next to me just now, for the first time in forever, I felt like I could breathe. I felt safe. Strong. Free.

Not once did I censor my words in fear of being struck. I didn’t worry that I was less than perfect standing here in my bathrobe with no makeup and messy hair. The disgust I’d feel when using my body as a vessel to mollify someone else’s rage was nonexistent. My integrity was firmly in place instead of being sacrificed to feed a brutal man’s ego. Everything that made me anxious daily just disappeared. At least for those few moments. I don’t think people realize what a luxury those things are until they’ve had them stripped away. I know I certainly didn’t. After everything I’ve endured, I am well aware of how truly precious it is.

The brief reminder of what life feels like when you’re not always walking on eggshells reaffirms that I did the right thing by leaving Sebastian. The road ahead might not be easy, but I feel better equipped to handle it. Maybe it’s this ranch, maybe it’s the people, hell, maybe it’s just the fact that I’m not living under the same roof with him anymore. Whatever the reason, the fact remains that I’ll no longer allow Sebastian to control me. I’ll no longer let anyone control me.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Beckett

“I hate to tell you this, buddy, but you’re fucked.”

TJ glares at Ben. “You think you’re so goddamn funny, Pryce. Not everyone’s woman wants to run off to Vegas to elope.”

Pryce grins. “Aw, don’t be mad, sweetheart, just because I didn’t have to sell a kidney on the black market to pay for my wedding.”

Carson laughs. “I still can’t believe you asked if you could forgo the fancy dinner. Dude, you’re never getting pussy again.”

Everyone but TJ laughs at that.

“Yeah, yeah,” TJ grumbles. “Laugh it up, assholes. You just wait until—”

I curse as our Humvee goes airborne.

Everything happens in slow motion. I don’t know how much time passes before my ass is skidding across the ground. My ears won’t stop ringing. There’s chaos all around, flames licking at my skin, but all I can focus on is the buzzing in my ears as I inch away from the heat. It’s so fucking hot. I’m leaving a trail of red as I scoot my body forward. I’m still trying to make sense of what’s happening when I bump into something. Correction: not something. Someone.

I recoil when I realize what I’ve grabbed. My eyes come into focus, my hand coated in my brother’s blood. When my gaze lands on his face, TJ’s lifeless eyes are frozen open in abject terror. I don’t need to check for a pulse to know that he’s gone. The entire lower half of his body is missing. Probably somewhere near the blast site—I’m not sure how far we were thrown. My head falls as spots dance across my vision. My vision blurs in and out, but all I see are his dead eyes staring back at me.

As my eyes open and close, TJ’s broad nose narrows. His dark skin pales. When my lids open again, round hazel eyes that I’d know anywhere are looking back at me. Full lips that I spent countless hours kissing are now moving, but I can’t hear the words. I can only read her lips as she pleads with me to save her. I scream her name, trying to inch closer, but it’s no use. I can’t move. I’m losing consciousness. The last thing I see is Presley mouthing the words, ‘Beckett, don’t let me die.’

“Fuck.”

I jackknife into a sitting position and run a hand through my damp hair. I haven’t had a nightmare that vivid in months, and I’ve never had one with Presley in it.

Christ, just when I thought they couldn’t get any worse.

I climb out of bed and go through the motions of taking a hot shower to ward off the bone-deep chill that always accompanies a flashback. By the time I’m dressed and done eating breakfast, I’m still feeling restless, unable to shake off the dream. Thankfully, it’s Sunday, so I’m on-call while the ranch hands take care of the animals. One of the mares is due to give birth any day now, so I need to stick close by, but I could really use some time to decompress, and I know just the perfect way to do it.

First, I need to talk Presley into it.

I walk down to the main house and get there just as her parents are leaving for church.

Mrs. J smiles when she sees me. “Good morning, Beckett. Did you come to join us for the early service?”

She knows that I lost my faith a long time ago, but it hasn’t stopped her from trying.

“No, thank you, ma’am. I was about to go for a ride. Came to see if Presley wanted to join me.”

They both raise their brows, but it’s Mr. J who speaks first. “I think that’s a great idea, son.” He points a stern finger at me. “But if she says no, don’t push it.”

I nod. “Yes, sir.”

He pats me on the back. “I take that back. Push her a little. I think it’d be good for her to take the old girl out.”

I give him a crooked smile. “I’ll do my best.”

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