They ate, Missy got up feeling a lot better, and suddenly it was time to go see Jase.
“Come on, Boug. It’ll be easier after the first time. It was with Matt, wasn’t it?”
Yeah. Yeah, when Matt had broken his back, that first time in the hospital had been vicious.
“It was.” They had so many friends who’d been hurt so bad. But blind… And still trying to ride. Lord.
“Okay.” There went Sam, stubborn and straightforward, chin down like he was fixin’ to ride.
Beau followed, feeling a little sick to his stomach. Had to be the grease. Despite what Andy had said, they’d brought food with them. Fries and chicken nuggets and shit.
His Sammy marched out across the pasture, right up to the little trailer, and banged on the door. “Open up, you two pieces of shit. You got company.”
Andy opened the door, plumb gray, hard lines set around his mouth. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
Sam nodded. “You look like shit, cowboy.”
“Thanks. You’re a barrel of sunshine.” Andy sighed. “Come on.”
Sam clapped Andy on the shoulder. “Relax, cowboy. We ain’t here to hurt. I talked to Pharris. Me and Beau’s got your back.”
Andy relaxed a little, and Beau had to smile. Everyone trusted Coke.
Jason was sitting on the sofa, head down, face covered in a damn beard. The tiny son of a bitch had lost weight, was like a fucking bird. Broke, somehow.
Beau took a deep breath. “Brought you some fries, Jay.”
“They smell good, Bobo.”
“They’re still hot. Missy put them in the toaster thing.” Shit. This was one of his best friends, even if they had drifted apart. Beau walked right over and put his hand on Jase’s shoulder, giving the man plenty of warning.
“You talked to Gramps? Is he okay? He ain’t answering us right now.”
“He’s okay. Tag was with him, got him settled.” The fries landed on the table, and Beau sat next to Jason.
Sammy had Andy in the kitchen, talking hard, head to head.
“Good deal. So, Bax says you know.”
“Yeah. Yeah, Missy told me, and then Sammy called Coke to get the rest. Jesus, Jay.” What else could he say? I’m sorry? That was lame.
“Yeah. Yeah. Gramps says I can ride, though. He says I can do it.”
“No shit?” If Coke Pharris said it, then it had a chance. “Okay. Okay, so what can I do?”
“I don’t know. Gramps is hurt, bad. Bax is fixin’ to have to go back out. Missy’s knocked up.”
“We’ll think of somethin’.” Sammy had a good head for shit, Beau knew it. “I’m sorry.”
Jase tried to meet his eyes, he thought, but it wasn’t happening. Christ on a cracker. “Me, too. This ain’t right, Bobo. I don’t wanna do this shit.”
“I know it.” He wouldn’t want to, either, so he knew that fact deep in his bones.
Jase took a deep, deep breath. “So, hand me the fries, huh?”
“Sure.” Beau dug them out of the bag and handed them over, making sure Jason’s hand was under the closed end of the bag. “You tell me if I fuck up, huh?”
Jason’s lips quirked, trembling the barest bit. “Yeah. You tell me if I do?”
