Page 13 of Burned & Bound
“He had a lot to say about the kind of man you are,” Lenny snapped. “About the kinds of things you like to do and the people you do them with.”
Ah, there it was.Good ol’ Wood Springs, where the people are welcoming as long as you look like them, think like them, and fuck like them.
“Do you like making money, Lenny?” I demanded, refusing to acknowledge the not-so-subtle homophobia. “You’re looking a little scarce in the patron department tonight. It’s a handful of regulars nursing a beer or two, am I right? Now, I got money to spend and I want a beer. Am I drinking here or going down to Merrillville instead?”
The idea of going there made my skin crawl. Merrillville had a lively population with heavily trafficked tourist attractions. I’d buy cheap gas station beer before I picked a bar in Merrillville. He didn’t need to know that though. He needed the money just like anyone else in Wood Springs did.
“You pay upfront,” he grumbled as he poured a cheap beer. “I ain’t opening no tab for the likes of you, you hear me? And I’m charging you double. Your father died with an open tab.”
“Of course he did,” I muttered under my breath but put down the money nonetheless. I just wanted my fucking drink, even if it meant paying off Harrison’s debt in the process. Lenny set down the drink, making me reach for it as if he couldn’t handle the thought of getting too close to me.Fucking idiot.
The beer was warm and crappy, but it did the job. By the time I reached the bottom of the glass, the demons in my head were beginning to settle down. That buzz began to fade while my skin didn’t bother me as much. The ache and discomfort were there, but after a few more drinks, I wouldn’t notice that either.
Without a word, I put more money down—extra to pay Harrison’s fucking tab too—and Lenny handed me another drink. At least the world went on like I didn’t exist, making it easy to lose myself in the comfort of my drink.
“Evening, Mickey,” Lenny greeted with a genuine smile. My daze faded, and I stiffened. I had no desire to talk to Mickey. I’d managed to avoid him on the fucking ranch—not very well but still. I didn’t want to talk to him while I tried to keep the demons at bay.
“Evenin’, Lenny,” Mickey replied, taking his hat off. “Good night?”
“Some unwanted vermin but the money pays,” he said, and I scoffed into my beer.
“That ain’t no way to talk about the Wilson brothers over there.” He used his hat to gesture to the two men in the corner. “They got just as much right to be here as the rest of us. Their next beer is on me.”
Lenny let out a disgruntled sound but let the matter go. Looking pleased with himself, Mickey walked his way to the bar and sat two stools down.
“Some folks never learn,” he muttered. “You’re lookin’ good, West. Never did get the chance to say howdy.”
I eyed him for a long moment, trying to decide just how fucking sincere he was. That sad look on his face told me everything I needed to know.
“I told you then and I’ll tell you now,” I began, my tone dark, “go home, Mickey.”
I didn’t want Mickey’s help and I sure as hell didn’t want his pity. He was the only one I was sure knew the shit I’d gone through after leaving the ranch. But considering how close he was with myboss, I had no doubt Jackson knew too. I’d rather Mickey be a grade-A asshole to me than be nice. I knew what to do with assholes. I didn’t trust a nice gesture. The hit always came after and hurt so much more.
“Now, look, son, I—”
“I ain’t your son,” I snapped over him. “I ain’t your boy, I ain’t your responsibility, and I sure as hell don’t want your pity, Mick. You want to pity someone? Find someone else who fucking needs it because that ain’t me. I’m just fine the way I am.”
“No, you ain’t fine.” Mickey sighed, but to his credit, he did ease back off the barstool and swiped up his hat. He paused, staring at my profile for a long minute, but I refused to turn. Instead, I focused on my drink.
Tension clawed at my chest. I didn’t want to fight Mickey, but I would if it made him leave me the fuck alone. To my relief, though, he only stood there an extra minute before walking away, his boots loud in the bar.
“Another,” I said quietly to Lenny after I gulped down the last of my beer.
Mickey was right about one thing: I wasn’t fine. I hadn’t been in seventeen years.
CHAPTER 08
jackson
The horses were saddledand ready to go, tied to the fence, but West was nowhere to be seen. While I usually went out at six, I’d woken up earlier to make sure he didn’t fuck over my men. I walked the perimeter of the stables in an attempt to find him, considering he had a fucking job to do.
His truck sat along the back of the building with a motorcycle parked alongside it.Was that all he brought with him?The black Harley was well taken care of while the truck had clearly seen better days with its rust and chipped paint.
Lying in the truck bed with a jacket tossed over his chest was West, passed out.Jesus fucking Christ.
“Hey!” I yelled before kicking the bumper. West bolted upright in a panic, eyes wide. He battled his jacket as he tried to get it off. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” West snarled as he threw his jacket aside. He stumbled to his feet and dropped out of the truck bed, his knees practically giving out on the way down.