36. Jimmy
Jimmy
H e’d come for me.
Killed a man to keep me safe.
Sutton had chosen me .
“I—I can’t do this life on my own,” I whispered, clinging to Sutton. He would pass me off onto his best friend, and even though I could tell by how he held me that he didn’t want me out of his sight any more than I did him, we had no choice.
“I’ll always have your back, baby.” He assured me, gently pulling me from his neck where I’d finally found the only place that offered me escape and peace.
I’d been a fool to run. Sutton had proven his trustworthiness time and again, and my goddamned trauma, another deranged drunk, had almost taken me from him for good.
Already too well aware of what Kurt looked like sprawled face down and bleeding, I trained my gaze on my hero.
Exhaustion filled his eyes along with pain and concern.
A million questions about his ex-wife filled my head, but I bit my tongue. He had enough to deal with, and my selfishness in needing answers could wait.
He smoothed my hair off my forehead. “I wish I could drive you home and hold you in our bed, baby, but I can’t.”
Our bed.
Not his and Darla’s.
My throat went tight again. I nodded, hating that I understood his sense of duty.
“Dad—Dex is here.”
Sutton brushed a tear off my cheek with his thumb, gaze slipping to my lips and back up. A slow inhale filled his lungs, stretching his T-shirt across his hard pecs. “I want to carry you away from here, but I think you should try to walk, okay? Prove to yourself how strong you really are, Jimmy.”
I nodded even though resilience wasn’t in my vocabulary.
He clasped my hand and helped me stand. My legs were weak, muscles twitchy, but I could do this with him by my side. “Don’t look, baby,” he murmured, and I nodded, focus trained on the glass door propped open and letting in the fall’s chilly air.
What seemed like a dozen people milled inside the shop, but I didn’t glance their way. Refused to make eye contact and allow the townsfolk to see what a weak coward I’d been.
Dex stood at the bottom of the stairs, and I stumbled down the small flight before my feet settled on the ground.
“Jamie called the sheriff’s department, but I’m going to need you to give Officer Davidson your statement before you can leave,” Sutton said, squeezing my fingers.
I nodded even though I didn’t want to.
“Dex will watch over you until I get home,” Sutton promised.
I believed every word he spoke because Dex loved Sutton almost as much as I did, and while he might tease the shit out of me, I knew he would lay down his life for both of us.
“I want you to try to eat something when you get home,” he continued, his tone not allowing an argument. “Take a hot shower even though you already had one this morning then crawl into bed.”
“Okay—wait. Is she…” I swallowed hard, huddling in my coat from the inner chill that seemed settled into my bones. “Is she still there?”
“Fuck.” Sutton scrubbed a hand over his beard. “Darla showed up this morning,” he informed Dex, his voice low.
“What the actual fuck ?” Dex muttered, his tone murderous.
“Yeah. I told her to clean up and get the hell out. Left her some gas money on the table, but that was it. Make sure the old Ford she was driving is gone before you let my boy into the house.”
His claim thawed some of the coldness inside me, and I shuddered as the physical strength keeping me upright waned.
“Will do,” Dex assured him.
Sutton passed me over to his best friend, who tugged me into his side, his heavy arm a comforting blanket across my shoulders, but I missed the connection with…whatever Sutton was to me.
Hero, but more than a friend. Lover, but not yet boyfriend.
I lifted my gaze to his, hoping for the answer I desperately needed.
The sun sat low on the horizon, but its rays reached us, causing his eyes to glint more green than brown.
He loved me, his heart spoke without words—without doubt.
Warmth flooded my chest, and a watery smile curved my lips.
Sutton bent down, calloused palms cradling my face, gaze filled with other emotions I couldn’t begin to pick apart. “I would do anything to keep you safe, sweet boy of mine. I’ll see you soon.”
Mine —his.
Unable to speak past the lump in my throat, I nodded, trusting him to keep his word.
Officer Davidson approached at Sutton’s beckoning, and I sat in the back of his cruiser while woodenly explaining the facts of what had happened from the time Kurt had come barreling into the shop until Sutton had cradled me in his arms. What I’d seen, anyway.
Half of the torturous minutes had been spent in a flashback from hell.
As much as I hated to admit to my childhood trauma and how I sometimes lost touch with reality, I told Officer Davidson so he would understand the missing seconds from whatever timeline the investigation put together.
He was full of empathy and didn’t push for more before saying the sheriff’s department would be in touch.
Twenty minutes later, Dex managed to get us through the crowd, into his Jeep, and to Sutton’s.
The beat-up car Darla had driven was gone.
A heavy exhale sank me into Dex’s passenger seat, and he muttered a “Thank fuck,” which I heartily agreed with.
We hadn’t spoken a word on the short ride, and the quietness remained until we got inside, the door closed firmly and locked behind us.
The scent of coffee and bacon lingered, even though it seemed hours had passed since I’d felt betrayed and had escaped Sutton’s house without a backward glance.
Dex and I removed our coats and shoes, and I headed into the kitchen, determined to be a good boy for Sutton. I put the somewhat dried-out breakfast left cold on the table into the microwave and poured two mugs of coffee from the carafe.
“You should eat Sutton’s food,” I suggested quietly to Dex, who stood in the kitchen doorway as though unsure of what to do.
We sat at the kitchen table, Dex chowing down, me picking at the scrambled eggs Sutton had made for me.
Dex finished and sat back, hand wrapped around his coffee mug. “Want to talk about it?”
I shuddered. “Fuck no.”
“I’m sorry for antagonizing you.”
I nodded, finding the perfectly fried bacon that had gotten too crisped in the microwave more interesting than meeting Dex’s gaze.
“Sutton really cares about you. And even though I give you both shit, you’re good for each other.”
“I’m a lot,” I whispered, pushing aside my half-emptied plate.
Coward. Whore. Worm.
Dex snorted.
“No—I mean I’ve got too much damned baggage.” I shrugged, even though the words in my mind were more hurtful than I wished they were. “I’m broken.”
“Ever see a therapist?”
What was with everyone and their brother asking me that question?
“No. Can’t stand the thought of living through it all over again, but what went down today…
” I shook my head, trying like hell not to get lost in the nightmare that had played out before my eyes and memory.
“Brought everything back, you know?” My voice wavered, and I hugged myself as my lower lip trembled.
“But it’s time to face this shit head-on,” I told myself more than I did Dex.
“Take care of it so I can love Sutton without these insecurities and wounds showing up over and over, attempting to ruin things between us.”
“Sutton will hold your hand through it if you’ll let him. That man would lay down his life—hell, he’d walk away from Pippen Creek and his responsibilities if you asked him to.”
My focus jerked up to find Dex’s steady gaze on my face. “I would never do that! This town relies on him—needs him.”
He reached over and clasped my shoulder. “Glad to hear it. I kinda like having my best friend around.”
“Talk about being around…” I raised an eyebrow, just as gossip-minded as the next resident of our town. “Sutton says you haven’t been.”
A muscle ticked in Dex’s jaw as he glanced toward the window over the kitchen sink. “That’s a story for another day.”
Expecting Dex was as stubborn as I’d always assumed, I let matters lie. I was too exhausted to tease or make further attempts to change the topic again.
We cleaned up the kitchen together in silence, and he ordered me upstairs to do as Sutton had said.
I showered, tears once more coursing down my face, but at least the heaving sobs from earlier that morning no longer ripped from my chest.
Blinds closed and room somewhat darkened, I climbed back into the bed Sutton and I had left rumpled from our morning shenanigans. It seemed a lifetime ago he’d held me tight against his sweaty chest as our heartbeats had slowed, the euphoric tingles of release slowly leaking from our systems.
I rubbed my face in his pillow, clutching the softness to me. While the feathers and cotton were no match for Sutton’s flesh, his scent offered me enough reminder of his presence that I rested, my muscles sinking into the mattress.
Blessed darkness crept in, and I carried the memory of my hero along with me to keep me safe from nightmares.