Page 55 of Burned & Bound

“Okay.”

“I need you to tape up all the trim and shit in the bathroom for me to paint. Do the same in the bedroom too. And then I need you to paint the bedroom,” I told him. I waited for him to protest, but when he said nothing, I just continued as if this wasn’t the weirdest shit I’d ever asked an employee to do for me. “There’s gray paint on the table with all the supplies you need. Just start in the bedroom. I have to pick some shit up and then I’ll be back to help.”

Thankfully, the hardware store opened early enough in town that I’d been able to go in and grab paint. I couldn’t take away what yellow meant to West, but I could get rid of it in my house to make him feel safer.

“You got it, boss,” Peter replied.

“Call me Jackson,” I corrected. “You’re painting my goddamn house for Christ’s sake.”

“You got it, Jackson.”

I hung up the phone as he laughed and pulled up the list I’d made in my notes app. Before doing anything, I ran through it one more time.Bedding, bathroom shit, shower curtain, shirts and jeans for West, doorknobs.Maybe I was doing too much, but I didn’t care. It was the only way I knew how to help.

Loud rock music filled my house as I trudged back and forth carrying bags in. I’d probably bought West too much shit—enough to make him pitch a fucking fit—but I didn’t care. This was what I did. I fixed shit. I couldn’t fix how his mind worked against him, but I could fix the circumstances around him to the best of my ability.

Kicking off my boots, I went to check on Peter. I glanced in the bathroom as I passed by. Everything was out and taped up like I’d asked.Good.To my surprise, the bedroom was half-painted already.

“Oh, hey,” Peter greeted when he saw me, hurrying across the room to stop the music on his phone. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Not a surprise,” I muttered. Minding the plastic, I wandered into the heart of the room to inspect his work. The dark gray color covered the yellow walls smoothly. “It’s looking good.”

“Yeah? Good.” He ran a hand through his short hair as he surveyed his work. “So, what exactly are we doing here?”

That dreaded question.It was the entire reason I asked Peter to help me. He was the only one who’d get why I needed to do this.

“Let’s just say,” I began with a sigh, “that PTSD stole the color yellow.”

“Ah.” He nodded with more understanding than I wished on anyone. After a long moment, he added, “You know, I never liked the color yellow. It’s an ugly color.”

I fucking appreciated this man.

“It is.”

“When do we need to be done?”

“The end of the workday,” I said. While his track record suggested otherwise, I couldn’t guarantee that West would stay at the stables any longer than necessary. It gave us a very short window to paint and redo everything.

“Well, all right then. Let’s get this shit done.”

Without waiting, he went right back at it. I followed suit, heading for the bathroom as my brain began another run-thru on my plan for the day.

“You’re doing a good thing,” Peter called after me. I paused at the door. “I know you’re probably questioning it, but you’re doing a good thing for him. He probably won’t see it right away, but he will.”

“I sure as fuck hope so,” I whispered. Truth was, I didn’t have a clue how West would react. He was so averse to being helped that I could see this blowing up in my face.

CHAPTER 39

west

After waking up nakedand in a towel in Jackson’s bed, I couldn’t go back to the house. I’d managed to sneak past him in the morning, and with him being gone all day, I hadn’t seen him. I did every extra little fucking task I could think of just to avoid going back to his house. Maybe I could sneak in and try to sleep for a few hours on the couch without him knowing I was there.

Having Jackson take care of me while I lost my fucking shit was embarrassing.Even if some part of me was comforted by it.I didn’t want him to see me like that. And I didn’t know how to face him after that.

Well after midnight, I trudged my way into his house. The only light on was the one above the kitchen table. Two sets of keys and a note sat on the keys but that was it. Jackson wasn’t in sight and neither was Tess.

Morbid curiosity got the better of me, and I peeked at the paper. I wasn’t even sure it was meant for me, but I couldn’t help myself.

West-check the bedroom, check the bathroom.