Page 75 of Preacher Man

Everything he said happened.

He’d met Ginny one drunken night, how it goes in a bar, he hadn’t known she was Red’s sister, didn’t care whose sister she was to be truthful, he was using sex back than as a hardcore balm for his broken body and tired soul. He fucked anything anytime. Just as he was careful with Ruby now by not sleeping next to her, he hadn’t meant to that night either in Ginny’s small apartment. Sex wasn’t even memorable, but she was a sweet girl, she laughed at his bumfuck jokes, told him she wanted out of Colorado to go to nursing school.

They’d fucked. They’d drank. And then he’d woken in a dead sweat, his heart pounding outside of his chest, the fear so strong he could smell the Afghan blistering sandy air in his nostrils, Shane’s name on his tongue, buzzing in his head, that same devastation watching him die, grief devastating him all over again, his soul felt like it had shattered into a million pieces. There one second, gone the next.

And he’d had his hand locked tight around her slim throat, Ginny’s face beet red from lack of oxygen, veins standing out on her forehead, struggling to unlock his hand, it was a spider trying to stop a rock smashing it, looking at him with despair and death in her eyes.

Fuck. He’d hated that fucking night.

It had been a living nightmare every night back then.

He’d let go of Ginny so fast, backing up he’d crashed onto the floor in a heap, the fall jarring his spine, apologizing over and over as she’d doubled up coughing until she was blue.

He’d tried to help her, god, he had… she was so scared of him.

He’d gotten her to the ER feeling like the biggest bastard walking. He’d called Grinder. Who came with a few boys, Rider included. Along with Red Light. That fucking revelation Ginny was his sister. The shock of it meant Preacher allowed Red to lash out and crack a fist to his jaw before Rider stepped in and said a hospital wasn’t the place for that. He didn’t have the words to make it right, how could he say sorry when Red's sister was being treated for strangulation in the other room? It had taken four of the boys to calm Red down, by that time the cops showed up, arrested Preacher, charges were dropped later once Grinder had talked and explained to Ginny, but he was still in lock-up for two days. By the time he’d gotten back to the club the hatred was deep rooted, there was no going back with Red.

He’d fucked his sister. Choked his sister. Who could forgive that?

Really, he hadn’t blamed him at all for it.

They’d had an almighty fight and Red had taken off. He’d seen Ginny a year later, and she’d forgiven him. Funny how he couldn’t forgive himself. She'd gone to nursing school, after all, got married, had a couple of kids, Preacher was happy for her.

“I’m so sick of this, Red. Aren’t you sick of it? Hating me?” Red's lips tightened as if he wanted to stay something, but he remained soundless. He sighed, dropped the grip he had on the overalls, paced away before turning back, hands on his hips, lips thin. Ages ago he wouldn't have thought twice about putting Red down for talking to him the way he did, he would have said fuck it and walked away without a regret for bashing his skull in. Shane's voice in the back of his head always stopped him. Damn his brother for seeing the good in Preacher when he couldn't see past the head-fuck that was his PTSD. He was dead and still being the only voice of reason. Still looking out for Preacher from the damn grave. What a job. His very own ghosted Jiminy bastard Cricket.

Only, now there was a second voice in his head telling him to back off, to not put Red in the hospital and she was located off to the side, this voice existed in the here and now, her eyes wide, taking in the ugly exchange.

For her, he was dropping it.

If he dared chance look at her he’d see that look in her eyes, the one people got when they knew what he had going on in his psyche.Oh, poor Asher. Poor Asher saw his brother die and now he can’t cope.Poor Asher is fucked up in the head.

There's no way he can look at Ruby and see pity. He kept her in his peripheral, standing with her hands in the leather jacket pockets.

So much for their two days together.

It was all going to shit.

Inhaling, he had to get a hold of himself, couldn’t lose it, not here, not now.

Not in front of her.

She was already in receipt of too much of his history, shit he never would have shared with her, without allowing her to see that violent side to him.

An insidious part of Preacher didn't even want to care about who hated him or not, he just wanted to walk away, to not feel the tightness in his sternum, to say fuck it, and chalk it up to his winning personality being not so winning after all.

“What’s it to be, Red? Are we going to be enemies forever? Because truthfully, I’m fine with it, but just decide already. Because what you just did with her … that was a dick move. She doesn’t deserve you being a cunt, you don’t even know her.”

A flicker of remorse passed over Red’s face but gone a second later. “She needed to know,” He said in his solemn way.

“No, I didn’t.”

Both men turned to her. Preacher the more startled. His chest cavity sunk in a little as her eyes came over him. “He and I aren’t like that. So, you telling me his business for my own good, that’s a bullshit lie you’re justifying to yourself just to jab at him. And I don’t care to be used against him for your kicks. And from the sounds of things, you have a massive grudge Asher doesn't deserve, it's petty.”

“You aren’t like that?” Red cocked his head. And Preacher was interested in her answer as well, feeling every slow heartbeat like her answer was the most important thing he'd ever waited to hear.

If he was gonna have a heart attack he wished it would hurry up so he could check out of this position right here.

“I’m not his girlfriend.”

---