Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
I glance at my upper arm. I know it’s just the adrenaline that’s keeping me from feeling anything but for some reason, I still need to reassure Brody. “It doesn’t hurt.”
“Not yet,” he answers as he presses a soft cloth against it.
I hiss out a breath, surprised by how much it stings. I’m not like Brody and Elliott. They’ve both gotten all sorts of injuries and laughed them off. Maybe it’s a guy thing. Maybe it’s a Ranger thing. All I know is that I’m not that tough. “Can you distract me?”
His gaze strays to my lips and my heart rate kicks up. For a second, I hope that’s exactly how he plans to distract me. Then he says, “I’m learning to ride a horse. It keeps bucking me off.”
I can’t help smiling at the thought of Brody trying to tame a big beast. I’d bet anything that Elliott would love to see it too. “That’s what you’re up to out here?”
“You’re looking at a genuine cowboy now,” he quips. He applies just a little more pressure to the cloth. His care doesn’t mean anything. I know he’s only doing what he’d do for anybody else that was dumb enough to fall down an embankment into a shallow creek.
“Then why all the computer equipment? I thought maybe you were part of the NSA or something out here all by yourself.” Elliott once mentioned that Brody is their data guy, but I didn’t fully understand what he meant. I guess it has to do with his computer skills.
“Unofficially working for the FBI,” he murmurs. “Catching online predators and stuff. It’s a pretty sucky job and the pay is shit compared to what I could make freelancing.”
Somehow, I’m not surprised that he moved from defending his country to defending children online. It’s who Brody is. He’s a protector. He’s always going to fight for those who need it. But maybe he doesn’t realize this. Maybe I can help him see how amazing he is, so I ask, “Then why do it?”
He lifts the cloth. “The bleeding is slowing. Hold this here. It’s not as deep as I thought it was.” He turns to his bag and digs through it. His back is to me when he says, “It’s complicated.”
He freezes and he’s so still that for a moment I don’t think he’s even breathing. “You saw my mom, what she was like. I always thought she hated me just because the drugs made her into a mean person.”
He swallows and the sound is loud here with only the breeze whispering through the trees and the gentle gurgle of the creek. “Turns out that I was kinda…well, my dad is also her dad so…you know, incest and all.”
Suddenly, I understand the shame that’s wrapped around him and why he thinks he’s not good enough. Maybe I shouldn’t but I can’t not go to him in this moment. Not after that confession.
I scoot forward on the boulder. I wrap my arms around him from behind and rest my head between his shoulder blades. He’s so big and broad that it’s not easy but I manage it. I squeeze extra tight and wish I knew what to say. Nothing could have prepared me for a confession like that.
It doesn’t change the way I see Brody, but I can imagine that it changed the way he sees himself. Heck, it must have been bad enough growing up with an abusive druggie for a mom but then add in that dark stuff in his past. I don’t know how he’s still standing, and my admiration for him only grows.
To my surprise, he relaxes into my hug.
I rest my cheek against his soft cotton t-shirt. Maybe there are right words to say but maybe sometimes there aren’t. Maybe sometimes the best words are no words and a hug.
His voice is hoarse when he speaks. “I’ve never told anyone. Not even Elliott.”
“I’d never tell. That’s your story.” I can only imagine how vulnerable this confession made him feel. His nerves must be raw and exposed in this moment and all I want to do is reassure him. “You’re still the strongest guy I know.”
That gets a low chuckle from him and he puts his big hand over mine. I feel the calluses on his hands from years of hard work against my soft skin. “Let me get this wound treated and we’ll get back.”
“Can we still see the waterfall?” I ask as the wind blows and I catch a whiff of the unique scent that is Brody. It’s earthy and fresh, like pine needles and summer rain. I want to bottle it up and take it home so when I’m alone again I can remember it.
“Another day. I’d rather you be closer to town if you end up needing medical care.” His tone brokers no argument, and I don’t even try. His need to always be the one in charge, to always be in control makes more sense to me. He never had any control growing up so if it makes him feel better, I’ll let Brody fuss over me and take care of me. I’ll just have to remember that it doesn’t mean the same thing to him that it does to me.