He’d never said it before. Never. Not to Danny or Nate or anyone.
Only God and Anthony knew.
Dillon’s lips parted on a sound that was half sigh, half gasp. Then he got up and moved around the table to wrap his arms around Coke’s shoulders. “Oh, babe. He kept hurting people, didn’t he?”
“How did you know?” How could Dillon know?
“Because you would never do that unless he needed you to, unless you were protecting him and the people he might hurt. I know you, Coke. We’re people, remember?” Dillon kissed the top of his head.
“He killed this one. My folks kept Anthony locked up at the ranch, tried to, but they got lazy, and he killed one. That’s how I got out. They knew I didn’t do it, the cops.” Coke had found Anthony out near the beach, handed him a pistol, and watched him blow his brains out. He’d been crying when he did it, apologizing over and over. Still, Coke stood there and made sure it was done.
“I hope your folks are gone, babe. I might have to go kill them.”
“What?” Coke was still caught in the memories of that day, the beach. It was worse than the jail cell, the first broken neck, the second.
“Nothing. Nothing to worry about.” Dillon rubbed the back of his neck gently. “God, you were so young, too. I— Was it fast? With your brother?”
“Yes. He shot himself in the head while I watched. I made him do it. Then I ran away. He cried the whole time.”
“Coke.” Dillon stood, then took his hand. “Come on. Dinner can wait, huh? Come sit with me somewhere that’s not that couch.”
Coke nodded and stood. He wasn’t going to be able to eat. No way.
Dillon took him to the bed, which Beau had put clean sheets on, and sat with him. “I can’t imagine what you had to go through. I’m so sorry.”
“What for? You’re not made of evil genes.” Dillon wasn’t bad at the cellular level.
“Neither are you.” Dillon turned to him, hand on his chest. “You’re the best man I know.”
He tried. God knew he tried. “I pray that I deserve to be here, every day. That I deserve my job, my life. You.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Dillon petted him, those fingers never staying still.
“Even now that you know?” How could anyone forgive him?
“Oh, babe. I could never think less of you, but this makes me understand you. I love you.”
“I’m sorry.” For all of it. “You see why I couldn’t tell?”
“No.” Dillon chuckled, the sound dry as a bone. “I mean yes, but I wish you had told me, so you could have let me share the load.”
“There ain’t a load. It was a long time ago. I don’t even remember being Aaron hardly.”
“Yeah? Because you sure panicked and ran when I brought it up.” Dillon gave him a surprisingly stern glare. “Don’teverdo that again.”
“I didn’t know what else to do. I got so much shame, so much to make up for, and I couldn’t bear the thought of you hating on me.” Of Dillon knowing that he wasn’t the good man he’d tried to be.
“Oh, Coke. I think you’ve done enough penance, and I could never hate you. God knows I’m no saint.” Dillon kissed him gently, all comfort. “I never want you to think you can’t talk to me. Tell me things.”
“You ain’t never killed your own brother, though.” He knew that. Dillon didn’t have a brother.
“Well, no. I did hit my sister in the head with a cinderblock once. Not to mention that you said Anthony shot himself.” Dillon held up a hand when Coke opened his mouth. “He had to know, Coke. He had to know he was messed up.”
“Yeah. I couldn’t. I couldn’t let him keep doing that to girls. It wasn’t right. You know, I never even… I knew about me. About me and guys, even then. I didn’t even ponder…” Hurting some little girl. He couldn’t. There was a part of him that needed Anthony to stop, but there was a part of him that had needed to know that he wouldn’t be blamed for Anthony’s evil.
“Well, there you go.” He had no idea what that meant in this context, but Dillon nodded as if everything was crystal clear.
“I got a wicked headache. You mind if I lay my head down for a few?”
