Page 123 of Preacher Man

What fucking man wants his lady to see him undone, to see him less than a male who in that moment couldn’t even protect her from a spider?

In a lot of ways Preacher was the old-fashioned type, color him fucking shocked, but it was true. He wanted to be the hunter gatherer, the bodyguard, and the comfort. She’d brought him out of his darkness like the goddess he knew her to be, his Ruby was stronger than she knew about herself, everyone in her life relied on her, expected her to pick up their broken pieces and hold them together all the while it chipped away at her own happiness and she did it, time and again for everyone.

Preacher would never add to that, fucking never.

And yeah, he was pussy enough to admit to himself he didn’t like her knowing that side to him, he was vain enough to have a complex about it. He wanted to be the IT guy for her, not the fucking dude who fell to pieces over shit that was done and over with long ago.

What a fucking joke. He needed a head shrink or maybe just a padded cell somewhere.

What Ruby didn’t need was someone else adding to her load.

No way.

“Listen, Rubes.” She was stroking his wrist and for his own sanity he had to take a step back or he would have dry humped her on the ground, or worse, cried like a fucking baby against her chest and let her sooth him with her fingers.

When there was a mountain to climb, there were many options of direction; Preacher favored the sharp short method basket case and he went for it, the words burning a path up his throat even as his tongue refused to say them, he forced those fuckers out. They wouldn't come.Tell her...we can't do this anymore, Ruby. I'm no good for you, what we had was great, but it's over now, be happy with someone normal. He couldn't get the words out, none of them would come past his tongue. Her fingers burned, her eyes seduced him.

“Preacher, what did you want to say?” Long fingers came back to his wrist, his eyes followed the move, a contrast in their skin color, dark and light, blended as if made for the other, the perfect merger of mocha. His perfect woman.

He needed to tell her this was finished between them.Set her free, jackass.She doesn’t need your bullshit dragging her down.

What’s that saying; if you love someone set them free?

Couldn’t do it. Fuck. Fuck. Noise filled his ears. A silent war going on in his brain.Couldn’t do it.

The right thing to do was to let Ruby go. Not involve her any further in his giant head fuck. But when had he ever done the right thing? He was a selfish greedy motherfucker. Somewhere along the line of them having fun he'd made that lady his.

My lady.

He'd do whatever he had to do to keep her, to not burden her with worry or fear. To protect her from life, even if it meant himself.

But give her up? Fuck that noise in the ass with a small dick.

Ruby Steele belonged to Asher Priest. He'd write that shit in Sharpie somewhere. Make it true. Make it real.

Ruby was a gravitational pull he'd been orbiting for years, looking and watching, not daring to touch, she was too precious and good for him, but boy, had he fucking pounced with his opportunity and now he was in her orbit, sharing the same air.

He couldn't let her go, he was too egotistical for that. Anyone could tell she was better without him, he'd drag her down emotionally if she let him, her heart was enormous and impressionable to jackasses like him, easy to hurt and to leave lasting scars behind, but he swore on his goddamn bike he'd do all he could to make that woman happy, to see her smiling and his own problems... well fuck, that he didn't have answers to, Preacher wasn't all that smart. He'd gone a year without one episode, maybe he could go another year, maybe two, until they petered out.

That was the hope.

Or what was his alternative? Lie down and die?

Not when Ruby had walked into his life, not when he felt alive for the first time in a long time.

Couldn't, wouldn't, nuh huh. A big percentage was his dick doing the talking, he knew that. Ruby had him like an animal in heat constantly.

It was no coincidence Preacher's heart began to beat again the night he saw her in Otis' bar.

Fucked in the head or not, he couldn't give her up, even if it was best for her. She'd scowl at him and tell him she knew what was best for her and to shut his mouth.

That woman.Mine.

He smiled wistfully.

"Preacher, you good, man?" Called out Snake striding towards the bike shop. Preacher swerved his body and scowled at him.

"Jesus motherfucking Christ, will you nancies quit asking me if I'm okay. Can't a man scream on his knees occasionally?" He tried to make light of it, Snake laughed.

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