Page 119 of Rocky Mountain Devil
“Not for lack of trying.” Rafe heard the disgust in his own voice. “What the hell was getting into bed with her going to accomplish?”
Jesse pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and pressed it against his face. “I thought I’d get my goddamn brother back. Instead, Vicki thought I was Joel, and…”
“Sick bastard,” Rafe muttered. “I’m surprised Joel didn’t kill you.”
“It wasn’t like that.” Jesse visibly swallowed. “Well, it was, but it wasn’t.”
Cryptic, much? Yet Rafe didn’t want to push. Whatever happened that night had clearly…destroyedsomething inside his cousin.
“She was barely awake—hell, she was mostly asleep, for all I know—and she fuckingguttedme. She wasn’t even aware of what she was saying, but it hit me so hard…” He wiped his face then shoved the handkerchief away. “It changed everything.”
By now Jesse’s jaw was rigid and Rafe’s churning gut had turned into a solid block of pain. “What’d she say?”
Jesse shook his head. “It broke me, Rafe. All thoughts of…hell, I don’t know. Whatever childish ideas I arrived with vanished right then and there. I’d gone to prove to Joel that…” He trailed off.
“That what?”
“Fuck.” Jesse groaned. “It doesn’t even matter anymore. All I know is that I screwed up. Big-time.”
“They’ve never said a word,” Rafe said in disbelief.
“They don’t know.”
Holy shit.
Jesse paused before rushing on. “I swear nothing happened. Not really, and I got the hell out of there before Joel got home. Vicki obviously doesn’t remember a thing.”
Rafe eyed his cousin. “This went down two years ago, but you’re still being an ass. Why?”
“Why?” Jesse turned and gripped the fence rail as if he were ready to rip it to shreds. “Because no matter how much I plan to make a move to fix things, I take one look at Vicki, remember what she said in her sleep, and guilt hits so hard I can’t breathe. I can’t fuckingbreathe, Rafe, and it’s killing me.”
Guilt. Rafe understood that one in spades.
They stood together silently for a minute, staring over the land that held no answers. Just the wind moving endlessly over open spaces.
Rafe took a deep breath. “So, what do we do?”
Jesse tilted his hat back, motioning to the truck and trailer. “I didn’t mean for this to come out right now, but I’m leaving.”
“Leaving…Rocky?”
His cousin nodded.
A flash of his earlier anger returned. Rafe couldn’t change what he’d done, but Jesse could. “Leaving won’t fix anything.”
“And staying won’t either,” Jesse retorted. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Not really, but you still feel like shit, right? I can tell you it doesn’t get any damn easier, no matter how much time passes. You’re going to look into your mom’s eyes from now to fucking eternity, and every time you see her hurting, you’ll think about howyoumight have changed things.”
Laurel’s voice echoed in his head, and Rafe found himself repeating the words out loud. “Can’t change things by running.”
“And I fucking can’t change the past,” Jesse roared. “That’s why I’m leaving.”
“Running,” Rafe snapped back.
“Call it whatever the hell you want, I don’t give a shit.”
In the midst of the shouting Rafe saw the truth all too clearly. He lowered his voice. “Only you do give a shit, and that’s the problem.”
Jesse damn near vibrated as he stood there. An icy wind curled around them, the sun buried behind washed-out grey clouds. Snow lay against the side of the barn, hard packed from the wind, with dirt and straw mixed in. The path they’d made stomping their way into the building pocked with dirt as well.
