31. Jude
31
jude
W aking up to Romy snuggled against me made it nearly unbearable to leave the bed at four every morning. But I forced myself to do it, knowing that when I returned, we would pick up right where we left off.
For the first time ever, I didn’t feel like I had to question whether or not I was worthy of her. She would prove it with breakfast on the table after my morning training session before she and I went to our respective ranch jobs. When we spotted each other across the outdoor arena or the field, we traded smiles that meant something—a secret that only she and I knew. And every night, she proved it with her mouth, her hands, her body.
I was crazy for this woman, and my pride was at an all-time high knowing she was mine. No one or nothing could ruin it for us. While she was proving to me that I was worthy, I was proving to her that she could trust me. I shared everything about the upcoming fight, how the training was going, and what to expect. Coach was going to fly out one of my teammates who trained in Muay Thai and jujitsu. It wasn’t hard for me to keep her in the loop. Now that we had given in to each other, it felt as though we were free and in this together.
The only thing that I wasn’t ready to share was that I was in love with her. Shit, I was scared. Just admitting it to myself had taken years. I worried that confessing would frighten her, and I was too afraid of losing her to bare that truth. So I would be patient and let my actions speak for themselves.
Over the next few weeks leading up to the Willows Rodeo, it was all hands on deck. Uncle Chuck and Christian took over the training for the rodeo contestants. Lina was still out on circuit, breaking records and preparing for her own entry into the rodeo and would return by the fourth. I insisted Romy carry tools on all her trail rides and have Reed with her. If he wasn’t going to go, then I sure as hell would, but Uncle Chuck needed me on the cattle.
The cows required branding, vaccinations, and castrations, while the yearlings were transported for slaughter. We borrowed ranch hands, and Uncle Chuck let me hire a couple temporary cowboys to help while I oversaw the operation. I even wrangled Alex into getting his hands dirty. Always eager, he jumped in happily with the vaccine gun, and per usual—like most things—was a quick learner.
After dinner, I would meet Alex and my teammate Troy at our garage gym for a sparring session. I was exhausted by the end of every day, but I’d never been happier because my girl was at home, waiting for me.
Romy would already be in bed by the time I returned. I would shower and snuggle in beside her while trying not to wake her. But every time, she would wake with an adorable, sleepy smile, her hands finding me in the dark. We would collide, drawing out each other’s pleasure until we had to catch our breaths. Until our hearts settled. Falling asleep in each other’s arms.
“I couldn’t see her,” Romy grumbled, pulling herself up into the truck.
Hazel’s hearing was supposed to be this week, right after the Fourth of July holiday. Romy hadn’t heard from her in weeks, and her lawyer kept calling to ask Romy to testify. She tensed every time she looked at the caller ID, hitting ignore.
I couldn’t totally blame her. After what we found in the stables, and her last visit with Hazel, I knew Romy well enough to know this was her favorite defense mechanism.
Avoid. Or run.
At least she wasn’t running. Just avoiding. Baby steps.
Until today, that is. With the hearing a couple days away, Romy, my indecisive girl, hadn’t decided whether she would testify or send in a character letter. She said she needed more clarity and hoped Hazel could give it to her.
Not wanting her to go by herself, I volunteered to drive.
“What do you mean you couldn’t see her?” I asked.
Romy buckled up, pushing a breath out her nose before answering, “She’s under suicide watch.”
That was not what I was expecting to hear.
“What?”
“Yep. I need to call her lawyer.”
“All right.” I nodded.
I turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the jail’s parking lot, heading toward Highway 20, while Romy dialed the lawyer.
“Hi, Angela, it’s Romy Miller. I just tried to visit Hazel, but they said she’s under suicide watch … yeah …”
Romy was silent while she listened. Ms. Hoya’s voice was muffled as I tried my best to listen in.
“So what does that mean for the hearing? Okay, I see.” Romy rubbed the space between her brows, her lashes fluttering closed. “I just don’t know. I understand how it could help, but I’m just not sure … Okay. I’ll call you as soon as I decide. All right. Thank you. Bye.”
Romy hung up her cell, returning it to her purse. “Apparently, she tried to slit her wrists with a broken spoon.”
“Oh God, Romy.” My stomach dropped. “I’m so sorry.”
I reached across the bench seat, squeezing her fingers.
“Yeah …” She released a deep breath. “So they’re postponing her hearing for a couple weeks.”
“That should give you more time to decide whether or not you want to be there,” I suggested.
In my periphery, she shook her head. “I don’t need more time. I mean, this is just so fucked up.”
“I know, honey. I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say other than to agree with her.
“I’m not going to the hearing.”
She couldn’t mean that. She needed to be there for her sister. She’d regret it if she didn’t. “Well, you have time to decide.”
Slowly, she turned in her seat. “Jude, I just said I wasn’t going. Did you hear me?” She pulled her hand away. I chanced a glance away from the road to look at her. Her face was scrunched in anger, her mouth tight around the edges. “I don’t need any more time to decide. I’m not going. Hazel chose to do this; she can deal with the consequences. My being there isn’t going to change the justice system or make any of this better.”
“Romy, I?—”
“I just need you to listen to what I’m saying. And I’m not going. End of story.”
She sat back in the seat, her arms crossing over her chest like a shield.
“Okay,” was all I could say. Any more and she’d be even more pissed.
The rest of the ride to the ranch was in silence. The tension was so thick, you’d need a cleaver to hack it. But in our silence, she fumed. Her anger boiling to the point that as soon as we pulled up to the ranch, she flung open the door, slammed it, and stormed into the house.
I was left in the truck. I didn’t know how to help her. To make this better for her.
I sat there, leaving her to cool down while I searched for the right words to comfort her. Because she hadn’t realized yet that she was grieving the loss of the sister she knew and all the time she had lost in between.
A rap came on my window, and I turned to see Lina standing in the dirt driveway.
I got out of the truck, shoving my hands into my pockets.
“Trouble in paradise?” Her brows were raised pointedly.
“Things aren’t going well with Hazel.”
“Ah. Well, I was just coming by to say hi since I just got in, but maybe this isn’t the best time.”
I snorted. It was far from the best time, but I was glad to see Lina. “Want to go raid the fridge in the big house?” I asked, slapping my stomach.
“Don’t you have training or weight cutting or something?” she queried.
Not knowing how long Romy and I would be visiting the jail, I had canceled my sparring session for tonight. I’d make up for it tomorrow before the rodeo.
“Nah, I have the night off, and Coach says I need to bulk up more.”
“Perfect. Let’s go eat junk food and drink beer.”
“I don’t know if she’s pissed at me because she thought I wasn’t listening, or if she’s just lashing out because I’m the nearest punching bag.”
I stuffed the last of my burrito into my mouth before washing it down with the rest of my beer.
Lina wiped her mouth. “Both. Sounds as though you were being dismissive.”
“How? All I do is consider her feelings.”
Romy was a tough girl, but she was also sensitive. She tried to show that things didn’t bother her. But I knew when they did. She often covered it up with anger, but she also wasn’t talking to me about it or trusting me. Not really, anyway. If I was being honest, it made me feel pretty shitty and insecure. As if I was unworthy to push back the curtain and see what was actually in her head—or worse, her heart.
“Have you asked her how she’s feeling?” Lina probed, digging into the chips and salsa.
“Yeah. The last time I asked her, she said ‘fine.’”
Lina nearly spit out the dip. “You know that’s girl code for ‘not fine,’ right?”
“I’ve been around the block, Lina. I know what that means. But I also know Romy well enough that it also means ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ That’s why I’m here and not there right now.”
“Huh. Okay.” Lina leaned back in the rickety, old chair. “Maybe you need to get her to talk about it or fight about it. It can’t be healthy bottling it all up like that. I know I always feel better after I have a good vent sesh.”
“I know you do. You feel better about Reed now?”
While we dug through the kitchen for burrito ingredients, the fattest burritos with all the fixings, which included Fritos—don’t knock it till you try it—I heard my share of how annoying and terrible Reed was. Apparently, being away from the ranch and Reed the last couple weeks was not enough to douse her hatred of the man.
“Hell no! But this is making me feel better.” She raised her beer can, tipping it to mine.
“Me too.” I tapped her can.
“Maybe that’s what you need. Alcohol and a distraction. The rodeo could serve both for you,” Lina suggested with a mischievous smirk.
“Are you implying I get Romy drunk?”
“Fuck yes, and the Willows Rodeo offers plenty of distractions.” She winked.
“Lina, I don’t want her ogling the cowboys.”
“Why not? She’ll see how good she has it. I don’t know about you, but watching the broncs gets me horny.” She fanned herself as if she was already hot just thinking about it.
“Gross. And don’t say horny in front of me again. If I knew it would do any good, I’d lock you in your room until you’re eighty.”
“Would you prefer I say hot and bothered or extremely turned on?” she asked.
I rolled my eyes.
Lina scoffed. “You and Dad.” She shook her head in disappointment. “But in all seriousness, just help Romy have fun tomorrow. And if she gets drunk in the process, so be it. Maybe she will feel up to sharing some shit. Or maybe she’s wanting you to fight. I don’t think anyone has ever fought for her. Fighting and fucking can be real cathartic.”
I rubbed my brows. “Lina, I swear to God, I don’t want to know that.”
“What?” she asked, with a shoulder shrug, feigning innocence.
It made me wonder, though. Maybe Romy was waiting for me to put up a fight? Lina wasn’t wrong that no one had ever fought for her. Fighting was in my blood, but facing an opponent in the cage was very different. Fighting for Romy required mental sparring, but the strategy must be similar. Catch your opponent off guard, and you can wrap them up in a D’Arce choke and make them tap. That’s what I needed to do. I needed to demonstrate to Romy I was willing to challenge her and, if necessary, make her submit or, in this case, trust me.
“All right. We’ll ensure Romy has fun at the rodeo. But don’t convince her to do shots with you at the barn dance. I don’t want any cowboys sniffing around. I know how those turn out.”
Lina rolled her eyes. “No promises. Just have her wear your hat, and she’ll be fine.”
I shook my head, laughing, and pushed in my chair.
“Well, this was just what I needed,” I said, placing my plate in the sink. “Thanks, cuz. I better get some rest before my morning workout.”
“Same. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
Lina and I had trekked all the way to the big house, and it was nice to have the time to walk home in the peace of night. Stars littered the dark expanse as if a child spilled a jar of glitter across it. There was no breeze tonight, promising tomorrow would be a scorcher. Dangerous because heat meant a lot of drinking at the rodeo.
By the time I reached the front door, the house was silent. Lights inside were turned off. Lysol and Pine-Sol lingered in the air. I checked my phone, wondering if I missed a text from Romy, but there was nothing. Her steady breathing sounded from the bedroom, and I knew she was already asleep. I got ready for bed and then climbed in beside her, but for the first time, she didn’t turn into me. She remained curled on her side, her back facing me, asleep.
I didn’t want to hyperanalyze it, but my damn mind couldn’t help but question whether or not she was pulling away. Did she feel the same way? Did she want this? It couldn’t be just sex for her, could it? I wouldn’t fault her if sex was a major factor for sticking around. Because the sex was incredible . The best I’ve ever had. The girl was fucking feral. A beast in the sack. I was here for it. I thought it was the same for her, but maybe it wasn’t. Was I enough for her? Because if it turned out I wasn’t, it would destroy me.
I ruminated most of the night. It was definitely the shittiest sleep I had since I left the couch. And it didn’t help that when I woke up the next morning, her side of the bed was already cold.