Freight Trained Page 11

  Cole was silent the whole drive to his house, and it wasn't until he pulled into his garage and shut off the truck's engine that he turned to her and spoke. "We need to talk."

  Abby felt her heart flutter, and a sick feeling cramped her stomach at his ominous words. She'd read way too many books and seen too many movies not to know those four little words never turned out well. Did this have something to do with where he went this afternoon? Did she give him one more chance only to have him back out again?

  When she didn't respond, he ran a hand through his hair and again, she noticed how tired he looked. Without thinking she reached out, resting her hand on his thigh, trying to offer some form of comfort. His gaze swung to hers, and their eyes locked before he placed his hand over hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.

  He got out of the truck, went around to her side, and opened her door, taking the squirming puppy from her lap before helping her out. The house was dark, and Cole began flipping on lights as he made his way to the kitchen. "You want something to drink?" He asked, as he got a bowl from the cupboard and filled it with water before setting it on the floor for Lucky.

  Abby had trailed slowly behind him, stopping at the breakfast bar as she watched him go into the fridge and pull out a beer. "No, I'm good."

  He took a long swig before taking her by the hand and leading her to the couch. Bending, he set his beer on the coffee table before plopping down on the couch and grabbing Abby by her hips, pulling her down to straddle his lap. Her hands automatically reached for his shoulders to steady herself.

  "Before we take things any further, before I touch you, there's some things you need to know. Things that might change your mind about me."

  I'm not going to change my mind about you, Cole."

  "Hear me out, baby, before you decide." He let out a sigh. "I'm not good at putting my feelings into words, but the first time I saw you, I knew there was something about you, something different from any other woman I've ever laid my eyes on, something that shouted to me you were special.

  "In the time I've spent with you, I've discovered my instincts were right. You are special. You're one of a kind. A beautiful package inside and out wrapped up in a fuck-me bow that's all mine to unravel. But you're not mine, not yet, not until I tell you about the real me and hope like Christ it doesn't send you packing."

  He leaned his head back against the couch, closing his eyes and Abby stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue not wanting to interrupt his thoughts. His hands tightened on her hips as if trying to hold her in place, but there was nowhere she wanted to go, no place she would rather be than here with him.

  He raised his head and slowly opened his eyes to look at her. The hurt and uncertainty in their depths was almost her undoing. She wanted nothing more than to wipe his fear away, wrap him in her arms, and tell him everything would be okay, but she knew he would never believe that, at least, not until he told her all that he thought needed saying.

  "I've never been close to anyone, never shared my past, what I've done, the lives I've destroyed, but I know if there's going to be any hope of a you and me, I need to tell you everything. All my faults, all my sins. You'll be my confessor of sorts, which seems rather fitting seeing as the first time I kissed you, I thought you could be the one person to save me."

  "Save you from what?" she asked barely above a whisper.

  "From my guilt. The guilt of killing three people."

  Abby inhaled a shocked breath while shaking her head slowly in disbelief. No, she refused to believe he killed three people. "I don't believe you," she said, with conviction.

  He shrugged a shoulder. "I may not have pulled the proverbial trigger, but my selfishness killed them, all the same."

  "For me to understand, you're going to have to explain better than that."

  He sighed, once again tipping his head to lean against the couch as if the weight of his thoughts were too much to bear. "I don't even know where to start," he said, staring up at the ceiling.

  "How about at the beginning."

  "When I was seventeen, my parents died in a fire."

  Abby inhaled a quick breath. As crappy as her parents could sometimes be, she couldn't image how painful losing them would feel, especially at such a young age. Her heart ached for young Cole and what he must have gone through, but it ached more for the man before her, holding on to misplaced guilt. "Although tragic, I don't see how you can blame yourself for their deaths."

  "I grew up in a small town, not much bigger than this, on the outskirts of Austin, Texas. Not much to do but get in trouble and as soon as I hit fourteen, I got in plenty of it. I didn't do well in school, not because I couldn't but because I didn't want to. Attending and doing just enough work to pass my classes.

  "By the time I reached seventeen, my parents had pretty much given up trying to contain me, but Mom was ever hopeful. I was a shit son and not home a hell of a lot. Dad was a long-distance trucker and home even less. I know she got lonely so when Dad was in town, she wanted her family to spend time together."

  He stopped talking suddenly, almost as if the next part were too painful to tell. Abby carefully placed her palm on his cheek and turned his head to look at her. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to say anymore."

  She watched him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing. "It was the Fourth of July and like I said, Dad was a trucker. It was a damn miracle if he was home for a holiday. Mom was fuckin' ecstatic because not only did he get the holiday off, but it fell on a Friday, and he was off the whole weekend. She wanted to spend it as a family, but I already had plans. The plans involved girls so of course, thinking with my dick, I wasn't changing them.

  "I won't bore you with the details of the fight that followed but it ended with my mother in tears, my father in a rage, and me slamming the door on my way out. Came home hours later, to a scene I'll never forget. Whole street glowin' with flashing red lights, half the house blackened the other half missing, and both my parents dead.

  "Few days later, investigators found a bottle rocket in the debris. Said it must have landed on the roof, catching it on fire."

  Abby closed her eyes unable to bear the grief etched in Cole's features.

  "I can't help but think, if not for my selfish actions, my family could still be alive."

  "Cole, it was a terrible, terrible accident, but you can't blame yourself for their deaths. You didn't start the fire."

  "No, I didn't start it but if I had been home, I probably could have saved them. They were sleeping when it started. I would have been up and gotten them out before it burned out of control."

  "Or you could have been killed along with them."

  "Yeah, well, I guess I'll never know." Anger laced his words, but she didn't back down nor did she back away. Getting up on her knees, she looked down at him, their faces inches apart. "You can't blame yourself for something that was out of your control. Something you didn't even know was happening. It's not fair to the ones who loved you, to keep torturing yourself like this."

  His hands came up grasping her upper arms in a painful grip. Anger radiated from him as he shouted his next words in her face. "Oh yeah, is that why, ten years later, because of my same selfish actions, I killed my best friend. Can I blame myself for that?"

  Chapter Thirteen

  Abby sat on the couch alone in Cole's living room, knees tucked under her chin, arms hugging her legs. After his impassioned declaration, he'd escaped up the stairs and after a few initial bangs, she hadn't heard a peep from him.

  The first fifteen minutes, she'd debated leaving. Even going as far as the front door. But she knew, even angry, Cole didn't want her home alone tonight and not wanting to cause him more duress, had made her way back to the couch. With
everything Cole had shared repeatedly playing through her head, sleep was the last thing on her mind, but soon her eyelids grew too heavy for her to keep open. Knowing her fight to stay awake was nearing its end, she surrendered, lying down and curling herself into a little ball to stay warm.

  Gentle fingers caressed her face before she was lifted into a strong embrace. A gruffly spoken, "I'm so sorry, baby," drifted to her ears right before firm, warm lips found her forehead for a softly placed kiss.

  Wrapping her arms around him, her head cradled in his neck, she breathed in the distinct scent that was all him and mumbled against his warm flesh, "Oh, Cole, it's okay."

  She was rewarded with another hard squeeze and then they were on the move. The house was dark and so was Cole's room as he set her on his bed. Little beams of moonlight filtered through the blinds enough for her to see him leave the room and return a few minutes later with her bag, tossing it on the bed. "I'll be back. Gonna take Lucky out."

  And with that, he was gone again. She didn't waste time, digging through her bag, finding her PJs and toothbrush then hightailing it to the bathroom. Face scrubbed, teeth brushed, she took a moment to assess herself in the mirror. She decided to let her hair down, running her fingers through it to take out most of the tangles. Next, she looked over her outfit. In her haste to pack, she'd snatched the PJs she'd worn the night before off her bed and shoved them in her bag. Had she not been rushed, she would have put more thought into her sleeping attire, choosing something sexier than the camisole and short set that while cute and feminine—with its little pink hearts on a white background—was far from alluring.

  She opened the bathroom door unprepared for the sight of Cole, not twenty feet away, lounging against the headboard of his bed, bare chested with a sheet casually draped across his hips. Wondering if he were as bare beneath the sheet as he was above, caused a flutter in her stomach and turned her mouth dry, making it difficult to swallow. He trained his penetrating green gaze on her, tracking her silent movements as her bare feet made a direct path on the cool wooden floor to the empty side of the bed. She hesitated, boosting her courage before climbing in and sliding between the soft, cotton sheets. Mimicking Cole's position, she stacked a couple of pillows behind her then turned her gaze his direction.

  "Come here," he said, holding out his arm. She snuggled against his chest as he brought his arm around her back, holding her close. "I need to apologize."

  Placing a hand on his chest, she leaned up to look at him. "There's no need–"

  He placed a finger across her lips. "Shh, there is. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that."

  She spoke around his finger. "You were very emotional."

  "That's no excuse. I'd like to say it won't happen again, but I have a quick temper and sometimes I open my mouth before I think. But know this, I will never hesitate to apologize after if I know I'm wrong."

  She gave him a smile. "Fair enough."

  His arm tightened around her, giving her a squeeze. "I owe you an explanation."

  "You don't owe me anything, but if it makes you feel better to talk about it, I'm more than happy to listen." She looked deeply into his beautiful eyes, so full of character with their few permanent squint lines from working out in the sun. His lashes thick and inky black, emphasizing their striking green color.

  He stared at her just as intensely, his eyes roaming her face before tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. His finger lingered, tracing over its shell before drawing a path along her jaw. "So damn beautiful." His words, spoken so quietly, had her doubting he'd meant to say them aloud.

  She was silent as he collected his thoughts, but he didn't make her wait long. "As you know, I practically grew up on the rodeo circuit. The first couple years I was a lackey, groomed horses, got them ready for transport. I was The Kid, got passed around, but my brain was a sponge, and I watched everything and learned.

  "Marco took me under his wing when I was nineteen. Became my best friend but more, he was like a father figure to me. I was a wreck back then, not that I'm much better now, but what they say is true, with age comes wisdom. Well, I've learned the wisdom of channeling my hurt and anger into something useful, my ranch.

  "Anyway, back then I was a loose cannon. I don't even know why Marco bothered with me." He chuckled as if remembering something from that long ago time. "I was a defiant teen who had lost everyone he'd cared about and didn't give a fuck about anything but the horses I tended. Marco always said he'd seen potential in me, to this day I still can't figure out what that might have been. But I worked hard, trained hard and by the time I was twenty-three, I was world champ in bronc riding and not far behind that in bull riding."

  Abby didn't know what bronc or bull riding entailed but didn't want to interrupt him to ask and promised herself she would look it up at her first opportunity.

  "I rode that high for three years and then it all came crashing down. I almost died, and Marco did die."

  Abby knew it was coming but still wasn't prepared for the hurt and guilt she saw in Cole's eyes at his revelation. When he was quiet for too long, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, Abby tentatively asked, "What happened?"

  He absently played with a lock of her hair, twirling it around his finger, then watching it spring off. He did that repeatedly, his mind so far away, lost in another time, she didn't think he even realized he did it. "We were at National Finals Rodeo." At her questioning look, he explained, "It's the equivalent of the Super Bowl or the World Series in the rodeo world."

  Abby nodded she understood.

  "Competition is fierce at these events. Cowboys compete all year in able to earn enough points to rank top fifteen in their event so they can qualify to participate. It's a ten-day competition and by the last day, the stress levels are high and tempers are short.

  "I was scheduled to go on next, it would be my last run in the competition, and I was pumped. But I couldn't find my gear, someone had moved it. My rope, vest, gloves all gone from my spot. Marco borrowed some shit from a buddy that had already competed, but the protective vest didn't fit right. It was too small and restricted my movements. I refused to wear it. Marco was pissed. Told me to wear it or back out of the event, but I was a cocky bastard back then, boasting I was a World Champ and knew what I was doing."

  "No one was more surprised than me when I was bucked from the bull. Somehow, I landed funny, got the wind knocked out of me, and couldn't move out of the way in time." He took a deep breath, shaking his head. "It was a stupid rookie mistake. First thing you learn is to get out of the way of stomping hooves, but I couldn't seem to move fast enough. The bull came down on me. Everything happened so fast, but at the same time felt in slow motion. Seemed forever 'til they got the bull under control, back in the pen and in that time, he wrecked havoc.

  "He broke three of my ribs and sliced open my belly. I still remember the surreal feeling of holding my stomach together."

  Abby shivered, having known the story of his scar would be horrible, but not realizing how bad it would ultimately be.

  "I saw Marco running into the arena to help me, he knew I wasn't wearing my vest. I yelled at him to stay away—it was too dangerous, and he would get hurt—but he couldn't hear me over the roar of the crowd. The bull whipped his head around just as Marco ran past, gorging him in the chest and knocking him flat.

  "I don't remember anything else after that. Came to in the hospital. Sissy was there, Marco's wife. I barely understood her as she cried, explaining a piece of Marco's sternum stabbed him through the heart. He was gone before the paramedics could get him to the hospital. If it weren't for my arrogance, my best friend would still be here today, taking care of his woman and his twelve-year-old baby girl."

  Abby couldn't keep silent any longer. She could see the
guilt eating him up. "Again, it was another horribly tragic accident, but it wasn't your fault, Cole. You had no control over what that bull would do."

  He was shaking his head before she even finished speaking. "If I wasn't so cocky, so sure I could stay on that bull, I would've paid better attention to what I was doing and stayed on. I wouldn't have been bucked off, and Marco would still be alive."

  She didn't agree but knew there was no getting through to him. Not now, while his emotions were so high. So she did the only thing she could think to do, set her head back down on his chest and wrapped her arm around him silently giving him her support.

  "I hated I was alive, and Marco was dead and lying in that hospital bed, I made him a vow. I would look after Sissy and Rebecca. Whatever they needed, they could always count on me."

  "Is that where you went today, to help them?"

  He tangled his fingers in her hair. "Yeah, Becky's been getting bullied by some kid that moved into the neighborhood a few months ago. Guess it's been going on for a few weeks now. Sissy thought if I came over, hung around outside, if I saw the kid maybe I could scare him off."

  "And did you?"

  "See him and scare him off?" His signature evil chuckle filled the room, putting a smile on her lips. "Let's just say, we had a nice, not so little chat. Only time will tell how well it worked."

  Abby lifted her head and slowly licking her lips, tentatively asked, "Will you kiss me?"

  "No."

  Her stomach dropped, and she lowered her lashes. "Oh."

  With a finger under her chin, he forced her gaze to his. "If I kiss you now, I won't want to stop. I've told you a lot tonight. You need to process it all and make sure I'm the man you want to give yourself to." His touch was feather light as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I know I'm a greedy, selfish man. Have been my whole life but for some reason when it comes to you, I'm not that guy. I see you and for the first time in my life, I care about someone else's feelings over mine. I want to make you happy, give you the option to choose, even if that means watching you walk away from me."