CHAPTER 14

west

I couldn’t breathe. Even with the pain, I couldn’t fucking breathe. The screaming—incessant, painful screaming—filled my head. More unwanted memories haunting me.

I paced the far end of the parking lot, beating the heel of my hand against my temple. Maybe I could hit it out.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Time didn’t exist. Everything fucking hurt.

And blood… my blood? Someone else’s blood?

Fuck, it was all so hazy.

I paced recklessly, attempting to piece everything together. But fuck. That hole was so fucking big.

I remembered going for a drink… and sitting with the regulars I knew.

I remembered telling myself it’d only be a few drinks… how many had I had? Couldn’t remember that.

I remembered Jackson and that pissed-off look. And drinking more so I didn’t think about that pissed-off look.

I remembered Marley… she was all hands. Too much touching. Even thinking about it made my skin crawl painfully. Something dark and twisted surged through my chest, sucking the air out of my lungs.

My pacing picked up as breathing became harder.

I remembered hands… hands… someone’s hands.

And screaming. So much fucking screaming. Who was screaming?

And Mickey. I vaguely remembered Mickey.

Safe… safe… safe… the word played on repeat in my head.

My pulse pounded erratically in my ears as I gasped for air.

“West.”

The voice sent me reeling. I stumbled and fell, scrambling backward across the pavement. My back hit a car, giving me nowhere to escape. The glass dislodged from my hand and sent an overwhelming spark of pain through my body. The world swayed in a way I had no control over.

“No, no!” I choked up. The panic reared an ugly face all over again, clawing at my chest. Not like it ever really went away.

“Hey, hey! No, look at me, boy. Right here.” Mickey. I tried to keep his name at the forefront of the haze in my mind, but it was so fucking hard. “Ain’t no one goin’ to hurt you, you hear me?”

“I don’t…” I shook my head rapidly. “I don’t…”

What the hell was I even trying to say?

“It’s all good. It’s all good.” Mickey came into focus as I blinked hard. He crouched in front of me, keeping a good distance between us. Not good enough. I scooted back. I needed more space. His voice was quiet as he said, “You’re safe, West.”

“I’m not.” I shook my head harder while unwanted tears burned my eyes.

“You are—”

“I’m not.”

“You are,” he finished over me. “You are. I ain’t goin’ to let anythin’ happen, you hear me?”

A strangled cry tore through my throat, and I bit my fist to fight the uncontrollable surge of emotions. Panic, fear, shame. The storm was never-ending. Violent and demanding. Overwhelming.

“I don’t know what happened,” I whispered. “I don’t know… what’d I do, Mickey? ”

“That don’t matter,” he replied. “What’s done is done. Let me see your hand, West.”

“I didn’t mean to fucking hurt anyone,” I continued, words just falling out of me.

“I know. Let me see your hand, boy.”

“I can’t remember… I can’t fucking remember… I don’t want to fucking remember…” Balling my fists in my hair, I hit my head against the car. A pathetic moan filled the air— was that me? Fuck, if I knew.

“Hey! Don’t—”

The second Mickey’s hand touched my wrist, I wrenched away from him and shot to my feet.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” I snarled. “Don’t touch me!”

“Okay, okay.” He was slower getting to his feet but kept his distance. “I won’t touch you, but I need to look at that hand, boy. You’re bleedin’ somethin’ fierce.”

He wanted to help… he wanted to help.

I didn’t deserve the help.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just… I don’t mean to… I’m sorry,” I rambled.

“You don’t need to apologize, West,” Mickey cut me off. “Just let me see your hand. Let me help you. Please. I ain’t no doctor, but it’s better than haulin’ you off to the hospital.”

“No!” I exclaimed. Panic crashed with terror in my chest. I wasn’t going there. No way in hell. “No hospitals! I’m not going to a fucking hospital. I won’t!”

“I know—”

“There’s no way in hell you’re taking me!”

“I know,” he repeated. Carefully, he took a step closer. “But I need to stop the bleedin’. Okay? You can’t keep bleedin’ all over the place, now can you?”

“No.”

“Right,” he said. Reaching into his coat, he took out a handkerchief. “Put your hand out, West.”

My hand shook violently as I did what he asked. From alcohol? Fear? Pain? I didn’t have a fucking clue. My body was on full autopilot and I was along for the unwanted ride .

“I’m just goin’ to take a look at it,” he told me. When he took hold of my wrist to steady me, a pathetic whine passed through me. The simple contact was fucking torture. It set my skin on fire, burning all the way down to the bone. All I wanted to do was pull away. Instead, I turned my face into the car I was practically huddled against, desperate to hide the stupid tears I couldn’t control either.

He was gentle but everything still hurt. My nerves were fucking shot and in overdrive. That piece of fabric he wrapped around my hand grated against my skin—razors I had to wear to stop the bleeding.

I sucked down air, barely holding my own.

I could do this… I could do this…

“Let me drive you home, West,” Mickey said quietly as he let go of me. My arm fell limp, buzzing and painful in ways I’d never be able to describe. “You can’t be on your bike anyway.”

I just nodded. I didn’t know what the fuck to do with myself. Too broken to fight back and too fucking tired to try.

Mickey drove me back to the ranch. Despite his protests, I managed to get him to drop me off at the stables. Couldn’t go back to that damn house. Wouldn’t go home with him either.

Numb head to toe, I walked lock-legged toward the stables with his headlights at my back. He watched me like a fucking hawk, making sure I made my way inside.

Which I did long enough for him to pull away. I couldn’t stay here. I didn’t know where the fuck I was going as I grabbed my truck keys, but I just had to get the fuck out of there.