“I am.” I see her nod from my peripheral and turn my head toward her. “I was really good at hiding it. Mybest friendof seventeen years didn’t even know but you think you know me better than her?” She rolls her eyes.
“Looking back, I can definitely see everything I missed, so?—”
“Yep. Hindsight’s 20/20 and all that. I didn’twantyou to know, Maddox,” she says, voice gentler. “I didn’t want anyone to. I was ashamed—amashamed,” she corrects herself.
Defensiveness floods me on her behalf and I open my mouthto tell her off for feeling ashamed, but she pulls her foot from my lap, face stern. She cuts me off before I can begin.
“I appreciate that you’re trying to be compassionate and I know you feel guilty, but it’s misplaced. Acting like you could’ve stopped this from happening to me if you’d only ‘paid closer attention’ infantilizes me and the choices I made, so you need to let that go.Ifyou’d known what was happening to me, you would’ve stepped in and stopped it, but you didn’t know because I didn’t want you to.”
I blink, taken aback. She’s shut down any and every argument I could have had, and I hate it because if I can’t blame myself for this, who can I blame? Austin? Fuck no. Wayne, definitely, but he’s in prison and there’s not much I can do to him while he’s in there. I wish I would’ve at least shot him in the dick while I had my gun drawn on him though.
Ever since Dad got sick, my sole purpose has been to keep the ranch running and to take care of the family. It had been the last thing he’d asked of me, and every single night, when I laid in bed and closed my eyes to fall asleep, I ran over the day in my mind and tried to decide if he would’ve been proud of me.
I kept Mama happy and calm.
I kept Colt out of jail as much as I could.
I bought Bailey a dog when I got worried about the depression she went through after the whole thing with Chase and its aftermath.
I provided an ear for Jameson to rely on, and practically became Kenny’s wallet.
Admittedly, I’d let Tatum fall through the cracks when I brought Austin into the fray, but Tyler picked up my slack. Tate could take care of herself and didn’t need meorTyler to do it for her, but it was just easier on my nerves to either be there for her just in case or delegate someone else to do it.
Austin was right. All of this was arrogance. The belief that I had any control over anyone else’s life but my own.
Her foot jiggles in my lap, pulling me from my head againand reminding me that I still owe her half a foot rub. “Alright, alright, I hear you. Prop your other pretty foot back up here too.”
“You think they’re pretty?” she asks, obeying. “Because I’m taking a hiatus from camming for a while and I hear there’s a market for feet pics.”
FORTY-EIGHT
AUSTIN
I’ve triedto avoid looking at myself in the mirror as much as possible this past week. It’s not that the sight of my injuries triggers me necessarily, but it’s definitely not how I prefer to look, and makeup only covers so much.
Luckily, the bruising is starting to fade more yellow and green than black and blue.
Also lucky—my stitches are ready to come out.
Hence me sitting with my legs crossed in Maddox Whittaker’s bathroom sink, getting up close and personal with my face in his mirror as I carefully slip my eyelash scissors underneath another stitch.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Maddox booms, causing me to jerk. I hiss in pain, a tiny dot of blood welling up by the edge of the stitch as I pull one side of it out.
“Thanks a lot. Can you hand me a piece of toilet paper?”
He rushes over to the wall, pulling far more tissue than required off the roll. He pulls my head back against his chest and watches himself in the mirror as he holds the tissue against the pinprick of blood.
“You’re being dramatic,” I tell him, batting his hand away. Sure enough, when the tissue falls away, the blood is gone and itdoesn’t come back. I pull the other side of the stitch I just cut out and resume my earlier position.
“Austin, stop it!” Maddox says again, tugging my arm back.
“Ow!” I grit my teeth, knowing he’s gonna shit a brick for this too.
He sucks in a quick breath, letting go once he realizes which arm he pulled. “I’m sorry. Where’s your sling?”
I jerk my head toward the toilet, where the sling sits on the lid. “Now if you’ll leave me be, I’m saving myself like, a hundred bucks or more right now.”
Again, before I can slip the scissors under the next stitch, Maddox is protesting. “Aus, you have an appointment for this tomorrow. I really think you should just let the doctor remove them so he can make sure everything’s okay.”
