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Liz ignores him, going straight to me. “Did you okay my aunt Olivia parading around in a bikini?”
“Ms. Olivia’s in a bikini, too?” I turn, but Beth cuts in between us.
“You left the peach ball last night with Sawyer LaGrange.” Her eyes flash. “You’re protecting him, and I won’t stand for it.”
They all press closer, and I can’t take it anymore. I’m exhausted and anxious and I throw up my hands. “Beth, your grandad’s neck was injured almost two weeks ago, and you just noticed today? Maybe if you visited once in a while—”
“You are not turning this around on me. I’m calling my lawyer!” She starts for the back door, Mr. Hebert right with her.
“I’m not pressing charges, Bethany. A lot of men never come all the way back from combat. It doesn’t make them criminals. Just calm down.”
“I’m not calming down when someone in the community attacks my grandfather. I’m calling Sheriff Gautreaux.”
They disappear down the hall, and nausea roils in my stomach. Spinning on my heel, I crash through the metal doors out into the blazing hot sun. Running to my car, I’ve got to find Sawyer. The puzzle pieces aren’t exactly falling into place, but I’m starting to see the pattern I’ve missed all along.
22
Sawyer
I can’t control it.
I don’t know what happened out there. The triggers weren’t there. I was in the arms of the woman I loved. We were happy, drinking tequila, sleeping…
Then I woke up, and it was all Mexico.
I was back in that hut, and the girl with the machete was over me. I lost it, and I don’t know if I hurt Mindy… I don’t think I hurt her. She said she was okay. My head is foggy, and my pulse is racing. I feel like shit.
When I left her, I walked all the way home. It’s a ten-mile walk, so I didn’t get back until well after sunrise. It’s Sunday, but during the festival, everyone sleeps late. It’s our day of rest after two weeks of busting our asses on harvest, working harder than we do all year.
I’m out in the shed, trying to understand what happens next. What do I do with this demon I can’t control, and how do I keep it from hurting the people I love…
“Saw you with Mindy last night.” Taron comes to where I’m sitting on the dirty concrete behind the flatbed.
I’m still in my tuxedo slacks and white undershirt, with my knees bent. I left everything else behind. He hands me a mug of coffee.
“Thanks.” Taking a sip, I let the tingles of caffeine clear the f
og in my mind. “She was supposed to be my date.”
“Supposed to be?”
Scrubbing my fingers over my eyes, I think about everything, all of it, and how it’s going to impact us all. “I didn’t think it was a good idea. I guess I was having second thoughts.”
He nods. “So was she or wasn’t she? Because it looked like she was.”
“She was.” I take another sip of coffee. “It was a mistake.”
He crosses his arms, walking over to the side of the shed and looking out across the fields. “A mistake because you don’t have feelings for her?”
I can’t answer that. Instead, I push off the floor and dust the dirt off my ass. “A while back you asked me if I’d done what they said when we were discharged. If I’d done the therapy.”
“You said you didn’t.” He leans against a post, studying me.
I’m at the point where I have to decide. If I’m going to trust anybody, if anybody’s going to understand, it has to be Taron.
“They told me things… the reasons I was sent home… I didn’t want to believe them.”
He squints at me. “So you didn’t go to therapy?”
