Page 67 of Saving the Rain (Crimson Ridge #4)

M y days have a wretched, despondent emptiness to them, the likes of which I’ve never known before.

There were times when I would get wasted, blackout drunk, and avoid reality for weeks on end.

Even then, it didn’t ache deep in my bones like this.

Not having Raine in my life feels like the worst kind of hollowing out, a gaping cavity in my chest that used to be filled with the warmth of his presence.

Every morning when I look at my phone, when I check my messages, there’s a hopeful prayer lingering on my lips where he last pressed his against mine.

Please remember me. Please come back to me.

I re-read back over the messages I sent him in the days after he left.

After I pretty much crumpled in on myself and felt like a ghost floating around the ranch, lost and drifting along aimlessly.

It took everything to put it into words and tell him, because it felt all too little too late.

If he hadn’t already blocked me, it felt like he’d take one look at what I was saying and laugh.

Carelessly casting me aside after seeing me send a stupid little message.

Why the hell would he care, when I should have been bold enough to say it to his face and out loud.

There are so many things I should have done differently.

I’ve thought about what you said every day.

I’m a better person because of you. Because you taught me how to fall in love.

I didn’t know how to tell you at the time, and I’ll regret that moment for a fucking lifetime. That day, I was an idiot and I froze, so here’s me saying it now.

I love you with everything I’ve got to give.

It’s selfish of me to expect you to ever come back, and that’s the kicker. Maybe I’ll just have to love you from afar.

Blowing out a shaky exhale, I swipe out of the message thread—a deserted place where he hasn’t read or replied to my words—and dial the number I’ve been putting off reaching out to this entire time.

Someone I haven’t spoken to in what feels like forever, yet is undoubtedly who I need to have this important conversation with.

One person at a time.

The line is filled with static, as I sit in my truck with the hot air blasting and a coffee cradled in one hand, parked up on the side of the road in the dark.

I’ve driven down into Crimson Ridge under a carpet of stars and a moonless night, but it’s only as far as needed in order to reach cell phone coverage, then I’ll be hauling ass back up to the top of the mountain as soon as this shit is over and done with.

“Is everything ok?” My dad’s voice is gritty with sleep when he answers after half a dozen rings. “Are you alright?”

“Look, some of us are out here putting in a full day’s work, alright? And you’re still snoring.”

“Excuse me for nearly having a goddamn heart attack because you’re calling me out of the blue. What’s going on?”

I hear the line jostle, and mumbling in the background. My dad must cover the speaker, because I hear him rumble a quiet reply—something about going back to sleep .

“Sorry for waking Layla up.” I wince and take a sip of my coffee. Probably shouldn’t be having another cup this close to midnight, but I don’t sleep much these days anyway. I’d rather be alert driving back up the mountain road in the dark, especially considering the weather due to roll in.

“That storm is supposed to hit soon,” he mutters at me, in the Colton Wilder fashion I’m all too familiar with. “Why are you hanging about down in Crimson Ridge? The safest place for you is to be on the ranch.”

He gives it to me sternly, but I also hear the unspoken question there. My dad knows me well enough to understand that this is something big if it warrants an international phone call.

“Yeah, uhh , about that.” I clear my throat. “Promise I only needed to put in this call. As soon as I get off the phone to you, I’ll be heading straight back while the roads are still passable.”

“Good. You don’t need to be messing around or taking unnecessary chances.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be.” Normally, I’d have something smart to say in reply.

The old version of Kayce Wilder would be rolling his eyes and doing the whole ‘yeah, Dad, tell me something I don’t know’ routine.

But tonight, I’m just sitting here with my knee bouncing and trying to figure out how on earth to spit out what I gotta say.

On the way down here, I had it all planned out. Now that he’s on the other end of the phone line, I feel clammed up, like I don’t know how to pry that shell open.

I hear him close a door with a soft click, then begin making himself a coffee in the background. Pretty sure it’s around four in the morning over there right now.

“Do I need to do this by guesswork or what?” He chuckles, still sounding sleepy, but it’s kind of a relief to hear that he’s not pissed off even though I’ve woken him up. “Does it begin with the letter A? One word or two? Movie or a book?”

“God... stop...” I shake my head and tilt the air vent on the heater. “That sense of humor of yours hasn’t improved while being away.”

“Alright. So hit me with it.” A faucet runs briefly before cutting off, followed by the sound of rummaging around in cupboards, a chink of ceramic, drawers rolling open and then closed.

Sucking in a deep breath, my thoughts are spinning as fast as a roulette wheel. Clattering and whirring, they’re in there somewhere, but the thought I actually need has gotta land in place before I can get the words out.

“Kayce, you know I’m not one to jump to worst-case scenarios.

But right now, you’re beginning to freak me the fuck out.

What’s wrong?” My dad’s voice firms up. Somehow, hearing him admit that—hearing the concern front and center in his tone—snaps my focus in place.

Just like all the times I’ve been in the bucking chute, ready to compete and dialed in every ounce of attention on the horse beneath me.

It drops me out of my head, and I just start talking.

I tell him everything .

My knee. The fact I’m no longer going to be in rodeo anymore. How I’ll maybe need surgery, but that wouldn’t fix anything, and actually might be more invasive than healing naturally and continuing with regular rehab.

That somehow flows into telling him about Mom.

About her latest overdose. About the money I gave her.

Not all the grimy details of my childhood, but enough that I touch on the reason for so many of my shitty decisions in recent years.

Stuff I should have told him before now, but honestly, never knew where to begin. So I just avoided doing so.

The kind of man Colton Wilder is, he listens. My dad just fucking listens, and it’s the most cathartic thing ever to let this all finally fly free into the night.

It’s like I’ve got a second wind. Hardly pausing for breath, I launch into the next part.

I step off the ledge and plunge headfirst. First, starting by telling him about kissing that random guy way back on New Year’s Eve, then continuing through to realizing I’m attracted to men.

Finally, with a thud, I crash land on the scariest admission of all.

I tell him about Raine.

The waterfall of words keeps on pouring. All my confessions about these monumental goddamn things in my life, laying out all the worries that have been eating away at me.

By the time I’ve unloaded so much more than I ever imagined I would tell him, I feel like I could float out the roof of this truck like a feather on the breeze. At the same time, I’m also unsure where we go to from here.

My dad and I don’t exactly have heart-to-hearts.

“Sorry. I kinda just trauma dumped twenty years worth of father-son chats on you in the space of twenty minutes.” I grimace.

Dad clears his throat with a slight cough. “Give me a second. I’m gonna drink this coffee first. Then I’ve got something I need to say, ok?”

I shift my weight. “Sure.” As I sit there in the ensuing silence, chewing the inside of my cheek, I can’t help but blurt a little more. “And yeah, I’m well aware, I should probably come with a sign stamped across my forehead that reads, Hi, I’m a complete fucking mess; nice to meet you .”

His deep, rumbling voice chases away any of those self-deprecating thoughts.

“Kayce... when you were younger, I backed off when I should have been trying to find you. It’s a burden I’ll always bear, because I deserve to carry the weight of that decision around.

A forever reminder of doing you wrong. I hope you know just how sorry I am. ”

Christ, the way my entire chest squeezes at the sincerity of his words. “I don’t want that for either of us, Dad.” I shake my head. “Nah, fuck that. Please don’t feel like you did anything but the best you could.”

“Son, I might’ve only been a dumb teenager at the time, but I shoulda known better. Or at least shouldn’t have let your mother so easily make it seem like everything was fine over the years, when it wasn’t.”

Emotion pricks the back of my eyes. “She’s good at manipulating things to her favor. That’s not your fault.”

“I truly am sorry.” He exhales the sort of weary sigh that comes with years of his own awful experiences, the way he suffered, compounding with the shit I’ve been through.

“I know you are. And I’m just glad I found my way to Devil’s Peak eventually.”

“Me too, son.” Then he makes a throat clearing sound again, and I’m already internally groaning. “So... uhh ... I know I might be past forty, but I’m pretty sure my hearing is doing just fine. You wanna just... uhh ...”

His awkward stumbling around the words makes me snort with laughter. “Explain that I somehow ended up falling for my stepbrother?”

“Yeah. That bit.” I can just picture him with a hand dug into his hair, phone held up to his ear, leaning against the counter of the kitchen in some quaint Irish cottage half a world away.

My cheeks burn, followed quickly by the pit sinking in my stomach at the thought of Raine. Fuck, I miss him so much. Just pausing to think about his name for the briefest second plunges me right back into all those awful feelings of yearning to have him back.

Worrying my bottom lip, I pull my phone away to briefly check the time. Fucking hell, it’s almost midnight. I really do need to get my ass moving.

“How did you know Layla was the one?”

He stays quiet on the end of the line for a long pause.

“That day I first met her, and we got to talking—when I didn’t know who she was or her name—I felt something I’d never felt before.

Then things played out the way they did, and I tried to forget her, honest to god, I tried.

” My dad’s voice softens when he talks about her, and all I can think is that I’m so fucking happy for him that he’s been able to find that kind of love in his life.

“Except, there was no forgetting her. There’s no other way to describe it.

It’s like she was there in my blood; all it took was a brief conversation.

None of it made sense, but there was a connection there.

The kind of unmistakable attraction...

pretty sure I’d still be carrying that around with me a hundred years later, even if she’d never come back into my life again. ”

Is it awkward talking about my ex with my dad?

Maybe on a certain level, but in all honesty, it feels like we’re speaking about two different people.

A different life completely. Back then, I was an asshole drinking away my problems, and she walked in and out of my life in such a short span of time.

“I think he’s my one .” My mouth feels dry as I say it out loud, hardly more than a coarse admission into the emptiness of my truck.

“Then that’s all that matters.” It’s so calm, so sure, hearing my dad just take everything in his stride like he does so fucking well. “But it’s gonna hurt like hell in the meantime.”

“You think he’ll come back?”

“After everything you just told me? The fact he said he was giving you time and space to figure things out? I have no doubt.”

My breath wooshes out of my lungs. “I’m gonna have to get going.” A few slushy droplets start hitting my windscreen as I peer out into the darkness. Snow. “Thanks for understanding... for not being weirded out, or flipping on me...”

The steadfast man he is, Dad further reconfirms with his next words exactly why I’m here doing what I’m doing to help him, even though it might be breaking my heart not to be with Raine right now.

“I’m here for you, Kayce. Anytime. Anything you need. All you gotta do is say the word. I’ll get on a flight tomorrow if you need me back there.”