A Cowboy's Home (27 page)

Adam stretched his lead while Justin urged
Easy forward, and the joy began to grow until he was grinning as
they sped across the field. He felt safe, like he was in control,
and when he reined in Easy next to Diablo at the top of Ember
Bluff, he couldn’t help himself. He dismounted and hugged Easy’s
head and thanked the horse for everything with that single
action.

“Want to walk?” Adam asked, and when Justin
pulled away from Easy, gestured behind them.

“Sure.”
What could it hurt?

They tied off the horses and made their way
through the bramble bushes and trees to the lookout point.

Memory sparked inside Justin; he pushed aside
foliage to find the marker for the Todd parents, lost a long time
ago now, but forever part of Crooked Tree.

A bit like him, really.

Adam sat on the long grass, his legs dangling
over the stony edge of the lookout, and Justin couldn’t really
avoid doing the same.

He sat down and stared at the vista before
him. The river sparkling as it tumbled and turned over boulders and
across gravel, the green of the fields, and the blue of the
mountains. And right in the middle, Crooked Tree. “I missed this,”
Justin murmured. “Always.”

“I’m remembering all kinds of things now,”
Adam said. “Like sitting here with you and Gabe when we were small,
really small. Eight, maybe? We got in so much trouble, but I don’t
remember why.”

Justin nodded. “We weren’t allowed this far
from the main buildings.” He also recalled that Adam’s dad used a
belt on him for daring to break one of his million rules by going
too far from the ranch. Justin hoped Adam would never recall that
part of the day. “That was on me, I said that there were—” He
paused and thought back. “—rare frogs, I think, or something. And
you liked frogs.”

“Clearly I was easy,” Adam chuckled.

Justin let out a noncommittal sound that
could have meant anything from agreement to denial. For a few
minutes, they sat in silence. Not companionable silence, because
Justin was waiting for the inevitable.

“So, we need to talk,” Adam said.

And there it was. His chest tightened and
held his breath hostage and he said nothing, could say nothing.
Maybe it was Adam’s show; perhaps Justin should just force himself
to sit and listen.

“I get why you wanted to kill those people,”
Adam said, completely flooring Justin.

“
What
?”

“I mean, if someone hurt Ethan, I could have
it in me to shoot them.”

Justin laughed. “Yeah, right,” he said
without thinking.

Adam rounded on him so fast that Justin
backed away. “You think I’m not capable of feeling a love so deep
that I would want revenge?”

“No, shit….” Justin held up a hand. “Fuck, of
course you could.” He wasn’t sure what he was defending here.

Adam deflated immediately. “Well, whatever. I
just wanted you to know. I don’t get what happened or how you ended
up doing what you did, but I don’t blame you.”

Justin shook his head. “You should. And I
don’t mean for getting revenge, you should blame me for getting you
hurt.”

Adam glanced sideways at him, and he looked
serious and focused. “Tell me what happened.”

“No.” Justin was horrified at the
thought.

“We found something, and someone kept us
prisoner,” Adam began. “For how long?”

“Adam, please.”

“How long, Justin?”

The sky seemed
darker, the fields less green, and Justin’s whole world shrank to
one point in time.
He ached with fear and loathing. “I don’t
know.”

“One day? Two? Five?”

“Three, okay? Three days, two nights.”

“And they hurt us?”

Justin scrambled to stand; he wasn’t ready to
face the past with Adam like this. Adam stopped him with a strong
hand yanking at denim and Justin tumbled back toward him, ending
right back where he started.

“Don’t. You. Leave,” Adam snapped.

Justin realized something had changed in
Adam. He wasn’t asking questions, wasn’t going to be put off
easily. He was angry and needy and demanding answers that Justin
didn’t know how to give.

“Did they hurt us, Justin?”

“Adam, I don’t want to talk about this.”

Adam shook him a little, his
expression
tight. “Fuck you, Justin, tell me
what I want to know.”

“You should remember yourself,” Justin
warned. Then it hit him, how would Adam handle the memories of what
had happened? He’d been unconscious a lot of the time, but he would
have seen what happened to Justin; he would know.

Abruptly, Justin wanted to run, and he
started to peel Adam’s grip from his shirt.

“Tell me,” Adam shouted, right in his
face.

“What do you want me to say?” Justin shouted
back.

“Tell me what they did!” Adam wasn’t backing
down, but Justin shook his head mutely. Adam released the grip on
his shirt and then spoke a single word that broke Justin to pieces.
“Please.”

“They were high a lot of the time,” Justin
began, and then stopped. “Except for Jamie. He was just a kid. His
dad was a bastard.”

“Was he one of the ones you killed?”

“His dad, yes.”

“And Jamie, the son?”

“I meant to,” Justin admitted. He scrubbed at
his eyes, partly to stop tears that threatened to fall. He didn’t
have control over the emotions inside him. He attempted to talk
calmly. “When I left here, he was the last one I had to track down.
I found him, but I didn’t kill him.” He couldn’t believe he was
talking so flatly about what he’d done, as if this was
everyday
. He waited for Adam to look at him
with disgust, or hate, or disappointment, but Adam didn’t look at
him any differently.

“You let him live,” he said.

Justin hung his head. “He was a victim as
much as we were. He’s made something of his life, and he thanked
me.” Justin let out a harsh noise, less a laugh and more an
explosion of pent-up aggression. “For killing his dad. Who does
that?”

Adam rested a hand on Justin’s knee.

“Abused kids,” Adam said. “So they were high.
Why did they keep us, then?”

“I don’t even know that, to this day, but
they got off on hurting us. They were fucked-up.”

“Did they ever hurt us physically?”

Justin closed his eyes. “Jesus, Adam.”

“It’s a reasonable question, J.”

“Fuck, yes. Not you. They’d hit you pretty
hard and you had a concussion and you were out of it a lot, but me,
okay. Yes.” He wanted to reassure Adam that no one had touched him,
even though he was lying. Only once had one of their captors
decided even an unconscious boy was fair game, but Justin wasn’t
going to tell Adam that.

This was one secret he would take to his
grave, whatever happened.

“I’m sorry for what you went through,” Adam
murmured.

Justin nodded once in recognition of the
sentiment. He didn’t know what else to say. He hoped that was it,
but Adam kept going.

“And they burned us, both of us. Tried to
kill us?”

“Yes.”

“But we got out alive. Can you tell me how we
did that?”

Justin remembered every second of it, and he
pushed the memories back inside where they couldn’t hurt anyone.
“Adam, please, don’t make me talk about this.”

Adam ignored the plea, his expression
thoughtful. “Sometimes I remember things, images. One I had in a
dream, where you were pushing me. I saw the fire.” He looked into
Justin’s eyes steadily. “That was real, wasn’t it? You put yourself
in harm’s way. Why?”

Justin couldn’t believe Adam even had to ask.
“Because I was looking out for you. They’d hit your head, and you
weren’t in a good way. They left the site, left us locked in this
bunker with a timer and chemicals and fire. We got out. I pushed
you out first.”

Adam nodded as Justin spoke, and then he
frowned. “So, how did we get out?”

Fuck, Adam was insistent. “Jamie was told to
lock the door, but he didn’t. I don’t know how we had time
otherwise. All I know is we were out and the explosion caught me
more. Then I woke up months later, and you were dead, and I
accepted it was my fault.”

For a moment again, Adam was quiet. “That’s a
heavy burden to carry. Thank you.”

“What for?” Justin picked up a stone, wound
up, and threw it as far as he could, watching it arc high and then
fall to the meadows below.

“For looking after me, for coming back, for
everything I don’t know you’ve done. I think we’re going to be good
friends.”

Justin glanced at him. “We never stopped
being friends. You just forgot me and I thought you were dead.”

Adam snorted a laugh and bumped shoulders
with him. “I bet it happens to friends all the time.”

Then they sat in more silence, Justin
throwing stones and Adam resting his chin on his bent knees. The
quiet was flawless and utterly peaceful, and somewhere inside
Justin, the knot of tension began to unravel.

They made their way back down to the ranch,
stabled the horses, and Justin got lost in the mindless, calming
repetitiveness of brushing Easy.

“Missed you,” he murmured against the horse’s
mane.

“First sign of madness, talking to your
horse,” Adam said.

“Will you quit stalking me?” Justin said, but
without heat. In fact, to his ears it sounded like he was teasing,
and Adam smiling at him meant he’d somehow made it sound
natural.

“Ethan’s away working. Do you want to come
for dinner tonight? Sam’s bringing up food and we’re having beers,
maybe watch something. I asked Gabe, but he has wedding stuff,
whatever that means.”

Justin hesitated. The idea of spending time
with Adam was scary but necessary until they got past the awkward
shit that lay between them. But being in the company of Sam, the
sexy chef with his blue eyes that promised
sin
and his tight body, and maybe even having him
touching Justin’s hair? He couldn’t do that to himself. Couldn’t
put himself through the torture of sitting with Sam and not kissing
him or touching him back.

And Sam would run at the first touch if he
knew the real me. Who wouldn’t? And how could Justin pretend to be
something he wasn’t? How could he keep secrets from the man he was
attracted to? Was there any point in even starting this at all?

Which meant he was probably the most shocked
when he said, “What time?”

Justin began to regret his decision when he
met Sam on the steps to Adam and Ethan’s place, the old Allens
house.

“Adam invited me,” Justin said before Sam
could say a word.

“I know,” was all the response Sam gave.

Justin gestured at the containers in Sam’s
hand. “Can I help with something?”

“No, I have it balanced. Thank you, though.”
The door opened and Justin gestured for Sam, the one weighed down
with food, to go first.

The polite, sterile conversation continued
for some time, and Adam looked more and more confused as the
evening went on. Justin tried, but his conversation skills had long
since left the room.

“Everything set for the wedding?” Adam asked
as he pushed away his empty plate that had previously held a huge
helping of lasagna.

“Mostly,” Sam answered.

Adam sighed, picked up a piece of garlic
bread and bit into it, chewing resolutely and making a soft hum of
a sound to indicate its excellence. With quiet determination he
placed the other half on his plate, steepled his hands, and tapped
his index fingers together. “Okay, guys, what gives?”

Justin swallowed and waited for Sam to take
the question. Justin knew what was wrong with himself: he was itchy
in his own skin, as though any minute now Adam was going to call
him on his crap and kick him out. Then Sam would be disgusted with
him and hate him, and there was nothing Justin could do about any
of those things.

Adam pressed on. “Is it something to do with
me? Did I forget something important?”

Sam sighed. “Nothing.” He poked at his nearly
full plate.

Justin wondered if he wanted the food,
because it was awesome and Justin could quite happily finish it for
him. Just to help him out.

I’m losing it. Because where in hell does me
finishing his dinner even fall on the spectrum of friendship and
relationships?

“You two are girls,” Adam announced. “No,
wait, that’s not fair to girls, who are frankly cool. No, you’re
kids. Something has obviously happened and you’re as wooden as wood
things sitting there, and you need to sort this out and be friends
already.”

Sam pushed his plate away, very deliberately,
and stood. “Thank you for dinner.”

Adam blinked up at him. “You cooked it.”

Sam shrugged. “I need to go.”

Justin sensed everything was going to hell.
Sam evidently didn’t want him there, and it wasn’t fair that Sam
should have to leave. Justin was the new guy, the interloper.
“Wait. It’s okay—I’ll go.”

“No.” Sam attempted to slide past him to get
to the door but Justin gripped his arm.

“It’s all me, and I’m sorry. This is stupid.
For Adam, we can be friends.”

With absolute focus and fire in his sapphire
eyes, Sam yanked his arm free again. Then he stabbed Justin in the
chest with a finger. “I. Don’t. Want. To. Be. Friends.”

And then he turned and left, slamming the
door.

Behind Justin, Adam let out a loud
exhalation. “Go after him, you idiot,” he snapped.

Justin rounded on him. “You heard what he
said!”

“I also heard what he
didn’t
say. Go
after him, and for fuck’s sake, pull your head out of your
ass.”

Justin wavered, and when Adam glared at him
pointedly, recalled the strong young boy who’d been the only one to
stand up to him.

So he left.