Jesus Christ on a crutch.
He eased the truck out, making sure those teenagers were well out of the way. “We’re not far, Momma. Jason’s resting. We’ll be there soon.”
“Has it got better? His eyes? There’s been reporters callingand the folks from the tour, too, wanting to know what’s up. I didn’t tell them nothing. You know I don’t hold with that.”
“I know.” Thank God for that. “Nothin’s changed, ‘cept he’s gotten meaner.” Bax jumped when Jason pinched his thigh. “We’ll be home in a jiffy, Momma. I got to drive.”
“Okay, honey. You be careful, and y’all come let me take care of my boys. I know you’re tired, Andy.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He was. It was starting to set in, the worst of the sore. It always came a couple of days after the crash. “Bye.”
They hung up, and he whapped Jason on the arm. “No pinching.”
Jason reached out, pinched him again. “Stop me, then.”
His hand clamped down on Jason’s wrist. “Goddamn it, Mini. Quit it.”
Jason jerked away, the momentum sending one hand smashing into the dash, the crack even sounding like it hurt.
“Shit. Shit. I’m sorry.” He was just edgy as a cat on a tin roof. The truck jerked a little, his bad arm not able to hold her steady. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Jason sat there for a minute or two, blinking real slow, looking green as hell. “Stop the truck, Bax.”
“‘Kay.” He slammed to the shoulder, threw open his door, and ran around to help Jason out.
Jason managed on his own though, stumbling along the shoulder until he hit the guard rail and went down, shoulders shuddering.
All Bax could do was stand there, hands hanging at his side, and make sure no one hit the truck or them. Goddamn it. God damn it.
It ended as suddenly as it started, Jason getting to his feet, that fucking jaw set again. “Sorry. I’m good.”
Right.
Good.
Blind. Bruised. Swaying on his feet and pale as milk.
Right as fucking rain.
“No problem, Jase. Come on, that root beer will hit the spot, and we’ll be home soon.” Please God, let it be sooner than he thought. He wasn’t sure how many more miles they could go.
“Yeah.” Jason took a step, one hand held out. “Help me out, man.”
He closed his hand around Jason’s immediately, and he tugged the man back to the truck, leading him right up to fold into the cab. “You set?”
“Yeah. Yeah, Bax. I’m good.”
No. Nothing was okay. Jason was just shaking, so tired and sick that he looked as if he’d been on a three-day caffeine binge. Bax didn’t say nothin’, though. Just got in the truck and drove, his neck and back feeling like poured concrete.
When the lights of Momma’s house came into view he wanted to hoot and holler. Bax settled for a, “We’re here, Mini.”
“Thank God.”
Momma was right there, coming down the porch steps, looking like she hadn’t slept in as long as he had. “Praise Jesus, my boys are home. Come on, both of you. You’re home.”
Jason’s door was opened, and Momma pulled his skinny body out into her arms as she held on tight. Jason seemed a little panicked, really.
“Momma.” Going around, he gently pulled Jase out of her arms. “Jason’s hurtin’ and queasy. Let’s get him in, and I’ll get the gear. Okay?”
