Page 127 of Preacher Man

Preacher’s breath shuddered hard, stroking repeatedly on his beard. “I just fell off the grid. I got word a few times about my crew that were left were trying to get in touch with me, those shitty reunion anniversaries like I wanted to celebrate anything we did over there, mom would pass on their messages and I’d bullshit and say I’d get in touch. I never did. “

“Why did you push everyone away?”

“The memories hurt, it became too much to even function day to day. They made me sad. Made me angry. I didn’t want it shoved in my face and all anyone ever wants to do is talk about the glory days. Nothing good comes of that except I get hurt, sad and angry all over again until I want to inflict my pain on someone else. He died. What more is there to talk about?”

“Maybe they just missed you, if you were a family like you said. Maybe they miss your brother and teammates just as much and seeing each other is a touchstone to them. I think they miss their leader and friend, Asher.”

“Yeah. Maybe. I was in a bad place back then. From today’s little show it doesn’t look much different, right?” Chancing a glance sideways he found dark eyes on him. He’d already spilled his guts, he didn’t stop there and shared what he’d never said out loud before.

“I can’t seek absolution from anyone when I can’t forgive myself. I don’t deserve it when I know it should be me six feet under and Shane here living a life, being a great dad and adding more to the world than I ever could.”

“Asher…” her face was captivating pinched with sympathy as she rested her chin on his shoulder, her hand rubbing the center of his chest, he felt the warmth of it seep in and stay there. He covered her hand. “I’m glad it wasn’t you. The world would have missed out on your ego, Preacher man.” He smiled. “I’m so sorry it was your brother, but don’t say you wish it were you.”

The quietly impassioned way she said it like he’d hurt her somewhere deep, he had a cyclone of want blustering through his bones. Lifting her hand, he kissed her fingers briefly.

This woman. He was only beginning to understand it, but he felt like he’d never get to the end of her. He wanted to dig up all her secrets, make them his own.

"It was the one time I did something for me, and he was the unlucky shit that gets killed, I can’t see the fairness,” he smiled ruefully, the sadness flowing in and draining deep.

Those decisions you made that fucked you up the most were often the ones you didn’t know were the worst possible decision until it was too late. If only he’d had some warning, an inkling that he was fucking up the future for all his family and that he'd never have a true day’s happiness ever again he probably would have rethought that choice. “I couldn’t even do that right. How fucked up is that, tiny dancer? I’m pissed he died first. I can’t get passed it, it’s festering in here.”

“It’s not fucked up, Asher.” When she covered their clasped hands with her other one he could swear he felt it punch in his heart. He clutched her fingers and didn’t let go. “He died and you have no one to be angry at. That is so unfair. I’d punch him right in the nose if he were here now.”

Preacher snickered then sobered.

“He had more to live for. Should have been me.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off their laced hands, tanned rough scarred and tattooed skin against her gloriously unmarred brown skin.

She was perfection and she didn’t even know it. Ruby grounded him. What he'd found in her was that rare happiness eluding him. All along it was with her, now he didn't know what to do about it.

“Don’t say that, darling. We all have something to live for even if we don’t recognize what it is. Everyone’s life is precious. Yours included. Your brother would tell you the same. Think of those prized years you had with him, those were good times, right? it's more than some get, you had this great hero in your life, but don’t ever doubt you are a hero as well.”

“He’d tell me to stop having a pity party unless I brought some seventy-proof booze. Then he’d tell me to yank my head out my ass and stop fucking whining and get on with life before I was in a pine box next to him.” Ruby chuckled and he found himself smiling for real this time. Shane would absolutely kick his ass over his self-imposed guilt. His family didn’t blame him, but he couldn’t seem to stop. If he stopped what would he have then?

“Will you tell me a story about Shane that has nothing to do with the army? Something only you’d know.” He took her hand back to his chest again, left it there over his thumping organ she’d brought back to life, her free hand came up around the back of his neck, stroking.

If she kept touching him, he’d tell her anything she wanted.

He remembered a story, smiled and began. “My whole life I wanted to be exactly like Shane, it was just us for the longest time, Tyler was a make-up baby. Shane was the bravest, toughest kid, great at everything, got all the girls and grades, I should have hated him, but I didn’t.

“Me, I was dumb as a rock, my dyslexia hadn’t been diagnosed at that point, so I couldn’t change that, but I did everything he did and he never seemed to mind I followed him around.”

“I think I would have liked big brother. Was he handsome with your same eyes?” Head reared up, eyes narrowed to see her teasing. “Pushing it, tiny dancer, I’ll put you over my knee.”

“Big tough bully.”

“I got the looks in my family if you must know. He was pig ugly, so is Tyler, so don’t think you can corrupt him either, cougar, you’d eat the boy alive and leave him hollow.”

“I can only deal with one Priest at a time, you men are wearing on a girl,” she said it as a joke but he took it as absolute gospel and damn him if he didn’t like the compliment. He was getting to the tiny dancer with more than just sex.

“Get to the story.” She nudged.

“Well, this one time, I was maybe thirteen, fourteen, Shane a few years older, and he had about five girlfriends at the time.”

“Romeo.”

“Oh yeah.”