CHAPTER 74

west

N ine horses.

Nine hay bales.

Nine cows.

Nine buckets.

Nine fence posts.

Nine.

Nine.

Fucking nine .

The list of nines went on and fucking on. I kept seeing the number nine everywhere. It fucking taunted me—a constant reminder of things I didn’t want to think about.

Things that wouldn’t leave the forefront of my mind.

This place had fucking broken me. There was no other explanation for it. I was falling apart in every goddamn way possible.

Waking up disoriented and damn near naked on Jackson’s lawn with him sleeping next to me felt like a last straw. I couldn’t remember a fucking thing about how I ended up there. Jackson’s split lip and black eye gave me a pretty good idea about what the fuck I’d done—of how I’d hurt him.

For days, I avoided Jackson or maybe he avoided me. I saw him once or twice when he picked up and dropped off Zeus on schedule. No words were exchanged. I could barely make eye contact let alone handle a fucking conversation. I didn’t go back to his house at night. Instead, I drank until I passed out in the stable.

I was good though. I watched my drinking enough to make sure I could fucking handle the horses without incident. Just enough to chase away the demons. Hiding away in the stables didn’t help, but it was all I had. Truthfully, there wasn’t a damn thing that would help anymore. Not while Double Arrow had its claws in me.

I tipped back the flask, letting the burn of whiskey help soothe the guilt and silence the screaming. Both were particularly loud after an anxious day. I was restless, exhausted, and crawling out of my skin.

Another drink, another hope for relief.

Another disappointment.

Betty’s head popped over the edge of her stall, and I staggered down the aisle to visit with her. Horses were good fucking company. No judgment. No harsh words. No hits.

Just fucking silence and comfort.

I leaned on her stall door, taking another long drink.

“You don’t hate me, do you, pretty girl?” I asked Betty, running a hand down her soft snout. She merely chuffed, and I pulled her closer, pressing my forehead to hers. “Yeah, well… that makes one of us.”

I managed to make it a whole damn week before Jackson quit. Turned out, he was letting me avoid him. Thankfully, I was just sober enough when he strode into my stables with an unreadable look on his face.

That made my fucking heart rate spike. I hated not knowing what he was thinking. It set me on edge, and I stood a little taller. At this point, it was a survival instinct to be ready for whatever the hell came my way.

“So, how long are you planning on avoiding me?” Jackson asked .

Fuck, I didn’t want to answer that question.

“I’m not fucking avoiding you.” Lies. We both knew I was fucking lying.

“We both know that’s a load of bullshit, West,” he said. He sighed as he stopped a short distance from me, leaning against a stall door. His busted lip had healed, but there was still faint evidence of the black eye. That shit was my fault.

“You know why,” I muttered.

“I told you it was okay.” Yeah, he’d said that. He’d said that as he groaned picking himself up off the goddamn lawn where he’d slept with me all night.

“It’s not okay.” I shook my head. How fucking dumb was he that he thought this was okay?

Instead of saying a word, Jackson’s fingers slid through my hair as he closed the distance between us and kissed me. It was languid and sweet—full of something he didn’t belong giving to me. I clung to his shirt and desperately tried not to spiral. His arm slid down to wrap around my waist as he walked me right into a stall, kicking the door shut for privacy.

When my back hit the wall, he broke the kiss. His forehead tipped against mine, and I refused to open my eyes. I couldn’t look at him. The surge of emotions was too much. Guilt. Shame. Pain. They clashed together violently inside me.

“I don’t deserve you,” I told him, my voice trembling.

“You do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“You don’t deserve me,” I insisted. “You deserve someone better.”

“I dare you to find someone better,” Jackson said.

“Go fucking anywhere,” I scoffed. “You’ll be surrounded by them.”

Anyone was better for him than me.

“I don’t see you for what’s going on in here.” His finger gently tapped my temple before he pressed his palm to my chest. “I see you for the man in here. The man who loves animals more than anyone I know. Who brings home the broken ones and shows them what it means to be loved. The man who makes me and my dog breakfast and even cleans up the damn kitchen after. Who challenges me and ain’t afraid to hand me my ass when I need it. I see a damn good man with the best fucking heart I’ve ever known. ”

Something painful and hot clawed at my chest, building with every word he said.

“I’m not that man,” I let out. He needed to see that. In the end, I’d just end up disappointing him. I couldn’t be what he wanted me to be.

“You are,” he replied. His nose brushed gently against mine. “That’s the man I keep around. What’s going on inside your head… I can’t fix that shit, West. I wish I could. You don’t got a clue how badly I wish I could take it all away. But that don’t change a damn thing for me. I want all of you.”

“Why?” I managed to ask.

“Because I love you,” Jackson whispered. My chest seized with something inexplicable—something like panic and fear. He couldn’t love me. He kept saying the words, but he fucking couldn’t. Not really. I wasn’t worth that. I shook my head, unable to say the words. “I love you, baby. And I know you don’t see all those things, but I’m going to keep telling you because I don’t care if it’s tomorrow or fifty years from now, one day you’ll see it.”

My heart lodged in my throat. Fifty years? He couldn’t possibly see a future with me. Not like this.

“You didn’t do a damn thing wrong, West,” Jackson reiterated once more. “I know you think you did, but I need you to believe me, okay? If I had a fucking problem with what happened, I’d tell you.”

I wanted to believe that he would, but I knew Jackson. I knew how fucking hard he was trying to take care of me. It wasn’t impossible to imagine him lying too if it meant making me feel better.

Fuck, my head was all screwed up.

I breathed him in deep, trying to cling to something that would keep the panic at bay. I wouldn’t spiral again—not around him.

“Come back home, West.” As I started to shake my head, he added, “Either you come back home, or I’m coming here to sleep in that damn stall with you, but you better believe you’ll be peeling my ass off the fucking floor every morning if we go that route.”

“I just…” Just what? Just wanted to drink every night away until I didn’t have to feel a damn thing? Just wanted to feel something good for once? Feel something normal?

I didn’t say any of those things, but I did nod slightly. It was pointless fighting with him anyway. I knew he’d follow through one way or another.