I raise my eyes to her. “Joy,” I greet softly.
She’s in a long dress, but I can see she’s barefoot. Her blonde hair is tied in a loose bun. She’s a classy lady ‘cause even rumpled up, she looks elegant.
Like Sarah.
“How are you doing, Cade?” Her tone is gentle; she knows something’s up.
“Barely holdin’ on, darlin’,” I admit.
Her gaze softens with understanding.
“Sweetheart, bring some bourbon, will you?” Mav asks his sister.
I stare down at my hands and see the crusted blood.
I flex my fingers, and some wounds open. Blood trickles out of them. The pain is good for me. Ishouldfeel pain. I should feel so much of it. But I know that it’ll never compare to what I put Sarah through, and more importantly, it won’t change a thing for her.
The screen door creaks open, and Joy walks into the house.
Mav leans against a post, arms folded, hat low. Waiting.
I press my palms against my knees. “I never asked my brother if he”—my throat closes around the word, but if she had to go through it, I can damn well say it—“raped Sarah.”
I snort a laugh, sharp and ugly. “I didn’t ask him. Not once. I just…believed him.”
A flicker of compassion crosses Mav’s face. “He’s your big brother. Blood is thicker than water and all that manure.”
I let the nausea roll through me, hoping it will fade.
Mav waits, letting silence do the work.
“A part of me hated that she had sex with him. I…didn’t care if she was telling the truth or not, all I could see was her with Landon, and it was like drinking acid.” I can still remember my fury, raw and unbearably huge. “She was my first…we were each other’s first. I wanted her to be my last.”
Tears fill my eyes, and I suck them back in. “Today…Sarah was at the ranch, and Landon came. She grabbed Evie, wouldn’t let her close to him. I saw it on her face, Mav. I saw it.”
The compassion is plain on his face, no hiding it. “She was protecting Evie,” he remarks.
The door creaks open again. Joy comes out with a bottle and three glasses. The good stuff—Blanton’s, with that little horse stopper. She sets the glasses down on the wicker table and disappears once more, only to return with a first-aid box.
“I asked Landon…finally, I asked him.”
Joy looks from me to Mav and then back to me. “Asked what?”
“Did you rape my girlfriend?” The words scrape out raw.
Joy gasps softly.
“He said, ‘Of course not.’” I crack out a jagged sound. “He had that same look on his face when he lied to Dad that he didn’t scratch his new truck, when he almost got caught smoking…it’s his….”
“Hand-in-the-cookie-jar face?” Joy offers as she takes my hands, lowering herself onto the chair next to mine.
She cleans the blood and dirt from my knuckles. The alcohol stings, and I hiss.
Mav pours bourbon into the glasses, amber catchingthe light, then holds it out close to my free hand. “Drink. Then talk.”
I down it in a single burn. He refills without comment.
“He did it.” My voice shakes. “All these years, Sarah told the truth. He raped her. And I….” My throat locks. “I called her a liar. I left her. She said I killed her.” Tears flow down my cheeks. “I did, didn’t I?”
