Chapter 51
Chapter fifty-one
Save Me
Cheyenne
Oh my God…
Rage, sadness, anger, and disgust pulsed through me so thoroughly it made me sick.
What Maverick had gone through—no, endured—what he’d endured was nothing short of horrifying.
Every time he’d paused and I’d thought it was over, he’d tell me another story.
Another instance of his dad being an absolute shit human being.
He made my mother look like a fucking saint.
There was so much hurt and anger and fury beaten into Maverick it was no wonder he damn near bashed Nate’s face in…and I’d let it happen. I’d given the fucking go ahead.
Guilt ate at me. Had I known I’d have maybe rethought letting him fight Nate. He didn’t need any more bloodshed, more violence.
I glanced over at the alarm clock on the bedside table. Quarter to two. Maverick still slumbered beside me. I hadn’t slept at all. Every time I closed my eyes, images of him suffering at the hands of his father plagued me.
And all of this… it was my fault.
First the fire, forcing him to fall into that silent episode… Now this fight, bringing up the horrors of his childhood and the toxicity of his father. Not to mention, he’d taken on raising the baby of the very man whose face he’d bashed in… they all had one thing in common.
Me.
And you could say that it’s not like I’d caused any of this intentionally—which was true—but it didn’t change the fact that I was the source of all of his recent trauma. I’m sure he’d argue that wasn’t the case, but facts were facts.
My gaze fell on Maverick. I could see him clearly despite the dark; my eyes had all night to adjust. All of the usual tension was absent.
The familiar furrow of his brow, the usual downward curve of his lips had vanished.
He looked so peaceful, boyish almost. How I wished he could always look so carefree.
How I wished he hadn’t been plagued with such a dark past.
I should leave. Give him the opportunity to find someone new, someone better. Someone deserving of him. Because Lord fucking knew I wasn’t. I never had been. He’d be upset for a while, but he’d move on.
My heart squeezed, sadness so crushing washing over me that it stole the breath from my lungs. Who was I kidding? He wouldn’t move on. Hell, he’d let Ashleigh dangle him along for damn near twenty years. He didn’t quit things. He didn’t give up.
I couldn’t leave him… But I couldn’t be in this room right now either.
I needed some air, and thanks to this pregnancy, I needed to pee.
The joys of having a baby pressing constantly on your bladder.
I rose from the bed quietly, so as not to disturb him, and padded through the house from the nursery to our room.
I thought of the barn, this wild urge sparking in my chest to go see the red filly.
It was stupid to go out this early and work her, not to mention freezing cold, but Maverick would be awake in an hour or so and I wasn’t planning to get on her.
Just spend some time with her. These last few months I found myself going out to her stall when I was frustrated or stressed out. This seemed as good a time as any.
After going to the bathroom and pulling on some clothes, I made to grab my phone.
Just in case Maverick woke up and I was still out there.
The home screen lit up, a text message notification showing on the front.
My stomach dropped, my throat lodging in my throat as my eyes scanned and scanned and scanned the words.
It was from a random number. Not even one from Texas… but I had no doubt who this was from.
This isn’t over… tell him I’m comin’.
I couldn’t breathe. My lungs just wouldn’t fucking work. Those two sentences hit like a sledgehammer to the chest. Fear gripped me like a vice. Oh my God. It was Nate. Of course, it was. He was stupid and stubborn and now he wanted revenge after being humiliated.
Fuck.
I should tell Maverick, but the thought alone stopped me in my tracks. Hadn’t I brought enough trouble into his life? Enough worry and heartache and suffering. This text—this threat—would only add to the pile of the mess I’d made in Maverick’s life.
Tears pricked in my eyes as the realization became painfully, horribly clear.
I had to leave. I had to let him go.
I couldn’t be the reason for his suffering.
I couldn’t be the reason for something happening to him because of Nate.
He’d find out easily enough I was no longer with Maverick.
I’d make it known. That way, when he came after me—which I knew he would—he’d leave Maverick out of it.
He’d be an idiot to go after him after what Mav had done to him.
I bit back sobs as I scrambled to grab my things, packing whatever I could take easily and quickly into a bag. I could buy more stuff later. It’s not like I’d had much since I was still replenishing even months after the fire.
Within five minutes, I’d gotten what I needed, every sane, logical inch of me screaming to stop, to think, to stay.
But Daddy always said I’d thought with my heart and not my head. I let my emotions get the best of me. Couple that with a mean stubborn streak that just wouldn’t quit once I had my mind set…well, there wasn’t really much that could change my mind now.
With a bag of my belongings strapped over my shoulder, I took one last look around, my gaze falling to the note I’d left on the dresser as I tried and failed to shut all the memories down of the man I loved more than anything I’d ever known.
But sometimes if you loved something, you had to let it go. Had to let it be free. Let it grow and flourish. I was the thing holding Maverick back. I was the one who wasn’t good enough for him.
I hoped he’d find someone who made him happy. Who made him smile freely and laugh often. Who made him feel loved and beautiful. Scars and all.
I had hoped that person could be me.
But I was wrong.