Page 26 of The Outpost (Jamison Valley 4)
“I’m sure.” He reached out and ran his thumb across my jaw. “He’ll be okay here. And so will you.”
I wish I were as sure.
“We’ll be great,” I lied, willing my voice not to crack as I said good-bye.
He pulled on his sunglasses and a hunter-green baseball hat before striding out the door. I stood in the doorway, Boone at my feet, and waved as his truck backed away from the outpost and disappeared down the two-lane road.
His tires crunched on the small rocks in the dirt road. The sound of my crumbling spirits sounded much the same.
“Just you and me, Boone,” I said as Beau’s truck disappeared from my sight. “Alone. Are you going to cook me those fancy scrambled eggs? Or teach me how to play poker? Or make me feel like I haven’t ruined my entire life?”
No, he wasn’t. The only person in the world that could do those things was driving away. I was alone in this silent forest. I was a hopeless city girl stranded in the middle of the mountains with nothing but my regrets.
I let out a strangled cry when the sound of Beau’s diesel engine no longer hummed against the trees in the distance. That pained sound preceded a flood of tears and uncontrollable, gut-wrenching sobs. For the first time since Anton’s attack, I let myself cry. Really cry. Face-twisting, snot-smearing, ugly-wailing cry.
When the pain in my ribs was too much to bear standing, I crossed the room and curled up on my cot. Now that Beau was gone, I realized that he’d been the one keeping the gray fog of depression away. With him here, I had convinced myself that the aftershocks of my story had been worth it.
The truth was that I had been reckless. I had been blinded by the allure of heroics.
But I wasn’t a hero.
I was a fool.
“What. The. Fuck.”
Splendid. My imagination was now conjuring up Beau’s voice. Depression had turned into delusion.
“Sabrina.”
Couldn’t I have conjured up a happy Beau?
Boone barked and abandoned the spot by my cot where he’d been keeping me company for the past four days. He’d been jumpy and excited for the last few minutes so I’d covered my head with a pillow and ignored him. I guess he was getting sick of me just lying around. Whatever. It wasn’t like he couldn’t come and go as he pleased. The door was cracked open so I wouldn’t have to get out of bed during the day. What was he barking about?
I pulled the corners of the pillow tighter and shoved my nose into my sleeping bag mattress. The dog could pester me all he wanted. I wasn’t getting up until after dark and that was only to close the door so no other creatures would come in for a visit.
Another bark and I’d just about had it. What was wrong with this dog? Couldn’t he leave me to my wallowing in peace?
“Sabrina.” And Beau’s voice wouldn’t leave me alone either. No more barking. No more angry voices. I needed quiet so I could relish in my misery.
I tugged the pillow down further but it was yanked from my hands. I gasped and turned, only to see two beefy legs planted next to my cot. My eyes traveled up the denim thighs, the narrow hips, the flat stomach and wide chest to the scowl waiting at the top.
Well, at least I hadn’t gone totally fucking bonkers.
“What. The. Fuck,” Beau repeated.
“Huh?”
“You heard me. What the fuck? I see you haven’t bothered to change since I left and I’m guessing from all these wrappers on the floor that you haven’t eaten much either. What is going on? You’re a wreck.”
“Nice,” I deadpanned. “Just what a woman wants to hear. Now give me back my pillow.” I tried to swipe it out of his hands but he held it up too high for me to reach. “Argh! What are you even doing here? I still have three days until I have to fake happy.” I got up on my knees and went for the pillow again but he tossed it across the room.
“What’s going on?” His tone had completely shifted from hard and terse to soft and concerned.
My body sagged. “I’m bummed out, okay? I’ve got a lot going on in my head and I just needed to wallow for a while. There’s nothing you can do but just let me be.”
He considered my words for a minute. “Bullshit.”
“What?” My spine snapped straight. “You don’t get to say bulls—”
