Page 91 of When the Storm Breaks
Having said his piece, he backed away from my truck, and I drove away before he had a chance to say another word. Nothing good ever came of going to The Roadhouse. But his words had hit too close to home. I fucking hated it when he was right.
* * *
I walkedinto my empty house, grabbed a beer from the fridge and turned on the TV. After flipping through the channels and not finding anything I wanted to watch, I turned it off and went to visit my horses in the last of the evening sun.
Last week, I’d moved Dakota into a pasture with Cayenne and her filly, Phoenix and she seemed to enjoy the company. But even so, as soon as she sensed my presence, she turned her head to look at me then slowly made her way over to the fence. She hung her head over it, and I rubbed her forehead and behind her ears. It had taken months for Dakota to trust me enough to touch her like this. Now she loved the massages I gave her.
“Why would a girl like Shiloh, with the world at her feet, want a guy like me?” I asked Dakota, stroking her neck in long fluid motions, my mind drifting back to another time and place.
“Jesus don’t love you, boy. Ain’t nobody here gonna help you or hear your prayers. So you best do what I tell you to and keep your mouth shut about it.”
I kicked and I screamed, and I punched. The leather of his belt left welts on my skin, and he stuffed a dirty rag in my mouth to stop my screams.
“I like ‘em feisty. Makes it more fun.”
Nobody heard my prayers.
“Hey bro.”
Ridge’s voice snapped me out of my reverie. Why the hell was I thinking about that now? I scrubbed my hand over my face, trying to erase the memories. Then I turned my head to look at him, my eyes narrowing on his split lip and bruised cheekbone.
“You’ve been fighting?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “No big deal.”
“Who’d you get in a fight with and why?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Matters to me. Someone giving you a hard time?”
“Don’t worry about it. I can hold my own in a fight. Been doing it all my life.”
Ridge and I were born and raised fighters. You could take someone out of a shitty environment and give them a good home, do everything in your power to make their lives better, but you could never erase the past or change history no matter how much you wanted to. “You wanna talk about it?”
“Nope.”
His gaze was trained on the horses in the pasture. “I think she needs you, man.” At first, I thought he was talking about Dakota. But she looked okay to me. “I don’t know what the deal was with you two but for what it’s worth, I could tell she made you happy. That’s gotta count for something, right?”
With that, he turned and walked away. When he was a few feet away from me, he turned and walked backwards. I thought he was going to say more about Shiloh, which seemed to be a hot topic this evening. “You’ll probably be getting a call from Patrick soon.”
“Why?”
“I quit my job.” He turned around and kept walking away with his back to me.
I pinched the bridge of my nose then strode after him. “What the hell happened?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll find another job. I never wanted to work for him anyway. And I’m not gonna be on the goddamn football team either. Team sports aren’t my thing. As soon as I graduate, I’m getting out of this two-horse town. Texas sucks balls.”
I grabbed his arm and spun him around to face me. “You wanna tell me what the hell happened to change your mind about everything?”
He stared at me with a stony expression. “Guilty until proven innocent, right?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Ridge.” I looked over at Patrick as he strode toward us. “You wanna tell me why the hell you took off like that?”
“You wanna tell me why the first one who gets blamed is the white trash kid from the wrong side of the tracks?”
