CHAPTER 58

jackson

R agged breathing pulled me out of my sleep. Groggily, I sat upright and tried to gain my bearings. Fuck, deep sleep never did me any good. I reached over to check on West only to discover he was gone. I flipped on the light fast and saw him sitting on the floor at the end of the bed in a mess of sheets—unmoving.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. My heart lurched into my throat, a feeling of dread settling in my chest. I refused to jump to conclusions, but it was hard to avoid when I’d been worried about this, to begin with.

I slid off the bed and rounded it fast. As I crouched next to West, I did my best to assess the situation. His chest heaved with uneven breaths while tears stained his cheeks. The sheet was a mess around him as if he’d been unable to untangle from it stumbling out of bed.

And that glazed-over look in his eyes… fuck, I wasn’t sure if he was here with me or a million memories away.

“West?” I said. Reaching out, I ran my palm down his arm to get his attention. His reaction was immediate—his hand lashing out and latching painfully hard around my wrist .

“Don’t touch me,” he snapped, never once looking at me. That anger fizzled fast as he whispered, “ Please… don’t touch me.”

His grip on me loosened, and I pulled away.

“Okay,” I replied. “What happened?”

I could hazard a guess what happened, but I wanted to hear it from him.

Nothing .

His gaze remained fixated on something I couldn’t see, and his knuckles were stark white as they gripped the sheet. I didn’t know how to help him like this, especially when he wouldn’t talk to me. Maybe he couldn’t talk to me?

Well, I couldn’t help him. Not me personally anyway.

Giving him space, I picked up his pants and pulled out one of my sweatshirts. I set them out on the bed before grabbing my clothes. I didn’t get dressed in front of him. The last thing I wanted was to trigger anything else.

“Get dressed and meet me downstairs,” I ordered gently from the doorway. “West?”

It took a hot minute but his gaze finally flicked in my direction to acknowledge me—though, I wasn’t sure if he was looking at me or right through me. It was hard to tell with that empty expression of his.

“Get dressed and meet me downstairs,” I repeated. “I’ve got you, okay?”

I drove us across the ranch to the stables. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing or if I was out of my goddamn mind, but it was the only thing I could think of.

If not me then maybe the horses.

West followed me out of the truck, silent and vacant. My fucking heart broke. He looked so goddamn small as he buried his hands inside my sweatshirt, his shoulders slumping.

“Wait here,” I told him gently. I didn’t bother waiting for an answer and went inside. The horses stirred as I strode down the center aisle to Thunder Jack’s stall. The massive stallion loomed over the ledge of the door, eyeing me warily. I paused. We stared at one another while I debated how to best approach him.

“Now, listen here,” I began as I opened his door. “Don’t be a dick, got it? I’m trying to fucking help him, and I don’t feel like fighting you tonight. Got it?”

Like the horse understood a damn thing I said.

Thunder Jack took several steps out of his stall, and I braced for chaos. The horse tolerated no one but West. I was probably going to have my ass handed to me by a thousand-pound stallion wearing nothing but flannel pants and a baseball tee.

I waited with bated breath. The stallion did nothing but judge me with enough intensity to rival my mother. Thank fuck. I could handle that shit.

With a focus on efficiency, I saddled Thunder Jack in the quickest way possible. I skipped steps like brushing him out. Any other time, I would’ve, but I couldn’t just leave West standing with the truck.

I grabbed a set of night boots and a headlight harness. Getting that fucking close to his hooves didn’t sound like a great plan to me, but I worried about making West visible out there. Any time someone was out late with one of the horses, I required night boots. Was it overkill with the headlight harness? Probably. But visibility was important. We were still surrounded by woods.

With the harness light switched to a blue color for less abrasiveness, I led Thunder Jack out of the stable. The horse followed my lead— thank fuck . Though, maybe he could tell something was wrong.

West stood exactly where I left him, staring off into the darkness.

“Go,” I said softly as I guided Thunder Jack to a stop in front of West. The blue lighting illuminated his pale eyes in a haunting way—one that amplified the pain residing there. It fucking killed me to let him go. I wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in my arms and hold him until he felt better, but I wasn’t it. I could never be that for him.

His horses, however, could.

He hesitated.

“Just go,” I reiterated and handed him the reins, careful to never let our fingers touch. The less contact, the better. “I’ll be around when you’re ready.”

That earned me the slightest of nods. I’d take it .

I’d take whatever the hell West would give me because I knew just how painful it was for him to share himself.

I stepped back as he pulled himself up into the saddle, settling quickly. With a slight nudge of his boots, he urged Thunder Jack forward. Drawing in a deep breath, I crossed my arms as he started down one of the paths at a slow trot.

I watched the blue lights fade into the shadows until West was completely gone. A heavy sadness settled in my chest, wrapping around my heart as I let him go. What I would’ve given to be out there with him. To be what he needed.