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Before he licked them from his fingers and shared the taste with Butch.
He wiped his chest and cock with the tee, then remembered the spunk probably already drying in his beard. When he was sure he’d gotten all of it, he shoved the tee under his pillow in a bundle. Once it was washed, the smells that turned him on would only be a memory.
On the other hand, he now had a cum rag that would remind him of Sol every time he jerked off.
As if I could forget him.
Chapter 28
Friday, September 2
Sol scrolled through the photos he’d taken of Salvation, smiling to himself.
That night in the barn had been a lot of fun, and Toby’s vanilla boys had hopefully learned something. Although he figured one of them might not stay vanilla for long.
Then his screen filled with the image of Butch on his knees, his broad back to the camera, head bowed, the collar around his neck, and Toby’s hand in the shot, holding the leash.
Boy, look at you…
Not that he needed the photos to remind him. A day hadn’t gone by this past week when he hadn’t thought about Butch. He kept scrolling, gazing at all the photos until he reached the last one in the folder.
The one showing Butch’s tattoo.
Sol opened a new window and did a search for Roman Numerals. He typed in the letters, and when the result popped up, he stared at it, frowning. Itwasa date, after all, one that rang a bell.
May 5, 1988.
Then it hit him.
That was the day Scott died.
Butch had etched it into his fuckingskin.
His throat tightened, his stomach roiled.
I should’ve ignored him when he said he didn’t want to talk about it. I should’ve sat him down and told him.
Sol knew why Butch didn’t want to talk about Scott. If anyone did, he did. But learning the truth had lessened the guilt Sol had carried around, and if it had done that for him, there was every reason to believe it would do the same for Butch.
If he’ll listen.
Maybe he could put it all in a letter. Except he knew he wouldn’t do that. This was a task that required a face-to-face conversation. Sol just wasn’t sure seeing Butch again was such a good idea.
So what do I do? Leave it? Let him go on believing we were somehow responsible? Me, him, Cal, Pete… We weren’t exactly blameless, but we didn’t know the whole story.
Sol had only learned it by chance.
His phone rang, and he peered at the screen. The sight of Alli’s name dispelled a little of his internal torment. “Hey, sis.”
“Did you really go to Montana?”
He chuckled. “I said so, didn’t I? It was a beautiful place. You’d love it. They have horses, trails…”
“Does that mean you’ll be going back there?”
I really don’t know about that.
“Sol? It wasn’tthatdifficult a question.”
