Page 166 of His Last Nerve

For her.

I broke into a run, dodging the fire by ducking and squeezing between trees. There was an old hunting shack not far from here, built by my grandfather in the fifties. It was to the west of me and to the east...was Hallow Point.

That was Momma’s spot.

The spot I had been too much of a coward to go back to. The place I avoided for the last twenty-five years of my life.

“Baby, where are you? Tell me where you are,” I croaked out, coughing. My eyes closed in defeat as the weight of failure and sorrow settled on my shoulders. My body was tired. The air in my lungs was toxic. My head was killing me. “Valerie,” I whispered, my eyes closing as I tilted my face to the sky.

For a moment, the world around me quieted, the smoke wasn’t burning my throat, the heat of the flames around me cooled.

For a moment, I wasn’t the monster who hurt people and chased them away.

Go east, sweet boy.

My eyes snapped open and with all the energy I had left, I ran.

Through the fire, I ran to her.

For the rest of my life, I vowed I would run through fire to protect her.

Whether she forgave me or not, I would always protect her. I would always love her. I was a fool to think she betrayed me; Grayson’s data be damned. I was a fool to think she didn’t love me. I was a fool to push her away.

My eyes spotted one of Momma’s carvings in a tree up ahead. It was an H with three hearts around it. One for Pop. One for me. One for Mase. I was close. Tears stung my eyes as the smoke became thicker, the air thinner due to the elevation. I hauled myself over a boulder, the same one I used to perch myself on while Momma would take her pictures for the day.

Coughing, I rose to my full height and called out Valerie’s name again. My voice was hoarse, weak, and I knew it wouldn’t carry far. Everything seemed to be closing in on me.

Death was near. My soul could feel it.

I looked up to the sky.

“I’m not a good man. You and I both know that, but she’s a good woman. She’s everything I didn’t know I needed. Please, please,” I begged, falling to my knees as slight pain shot up my thighs from the hard stone beneath me. I coughed again, but that didn’t stop me from holding my arms out wide.

“You can take me,” I wept to the God tI’d stopped believing in. “Let me save her and take me!” The smoke was getting to me, and I fell forward, landing on my palms. My head hung and tears fell from my eyes.

“Take the broken cowboy, spare his enchantress.” My voice was cracking, and my head was spinning. There was no air.

Not for me.

Not for Valerie.

I was too late.

Before my eyes, images flashed before me. A funeral, the town dressed in black. Mason’s hand squeezing mine as the casket was lowered into the ground. Mason riding a bull for the first time. My first kiss. The homecoming game. My dog tags hanging around my neck as my rifle was being issued to me. The letters I wrote to Mason. The American flag burning, sticking out of a tank that had just exploded. My sergeant being shot eleven times beside me. Me trying to drag his body away. Me coming come, my bags thrown over my shoulder. A dark house with Pop sitting in Momma’s rocking chair. Cathy. The hate in Mason’s eyes the night he left. The love in Caleb’s when he saw me for the first time, his tiny fingers wrapping around the tip of mine. Endless nights with my cowboys. Whiskey-laced laughter. My lonely bed.

Green.

Green eyes and the smell of cherries. Dark hair and curves. An enchanting beauty. A thunderstorm and a red rental car in a ditch. Hearing her name for the first time and tasting it on my lips. Kissing her, feeling her against me. Holding her. Listening to her pain and her accepting mine. Hearing her tell me she loved me for the first time, only days ago.

It wasn’t enough time.

A lifetime of loneliness.

Only weeks of happiness.

It wasn’t enough.

Hell, forever wasn’t even enough. Not with a woman like her.

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