Have Mercy - Christina Lee Page 0,69

she realized… I’ll never forget it.” More tears leaked out, and I reached my thumb up to swipe beneath his eyes. “They loaded me on the stretcher, but I wanted to go to them, even though there…there was nothing left. I…I struggled for a minute before I looked down and saw all the blood on me. That was when I remembered I was hurt too.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Can’t help thinking it should’ve been me. Should’ve been me…”

“No, Julian.” My voice was hoarse as I imagined never getting this moment with him. “No.”

Damn. Survivor’s guilt had to be so fucking overwhelming. I swallowed back my own urge to cry as I wrapped my arms tighter around him.

“Shh…” I held him for a couple of long minutes as his tears eventually stopped and his breaths evened out. He finally drew back, clearing his throat as his cheeks flushed a rosy pink, embarrassment beginning to creep in.

“Don’t. I’m glad I was here.” I swept his bangs away from his forehead. “Thank you for trusting me enough.”

At the sound of a gasp from near the fence line, my head snapped up.

“What in the hell?” Hunter said, gaze moving between me and Julian, who was slowly standing up, still in a daze.

Hunter was carrying a rifle, and one the family’s golden retrievers, Bailey, was by his side. So my suspicions were right. Target practice. Same shit he’d done over the years when he was feeling ornery or some kind of way I didn’t quite understand. But that was nothing new.

“I could ask you the same question,” I said, standing and dusting myself off. “What in the hell were those gunshots?”

He looked momentarily guilty before he squared his jaw. “I set up some tin cans. Was just getting out some frustration.”

I strode toward the fence, awareness prickling my skin at how close we’d come just moments before the gunfire of being discovered together in a very different position. “Dad hates when you do that.”

He scowled. “Well, Dad’s haggling prices at a cattle auction this afternoon. Besides, I’m far enough away from the house and the pastures.”

“You couldn’t have gone farther east, away from my property? Ever think of that?” I lowered my voice. “We have a combat veteran staying with us this summer, remember?”

Hunter stared back in shock, realization dawning on him.

But as soon as I said the words, I regretted them. Fuck. Julian wouldn’t want to be reduced to that. To a soldier with a diagnosis.

“Damn,” Hunter said, adjusting his hat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

“Yeah, that’s usually the problem,” I bit out. “You don’t think.”

“Screw off. I’m not the one who left the family business and—”

“Did I really have a choice after the shit hit the fan?” I clenched my teeth.

He narrowed his eyes. “Of course you did.”

“My sexuality is not a choice.”

“Maybe not. But your actions are.” Ah, I’d been away so long, I’d forgotten what those sermons at church were all about. You were not a sinner as long as you didn’t act on your gay feelings. Jesus Christ, did he really subscribe to that bullshit or just hide behind it?

He looked over at Julian, an accusation of some sort blazing in his eyes. What in the hell did he think I was doing with Julian if not comforting him through an episode? My stomach roiled. I could only imagine.

“What exactly are you getting at?” I asked, squaring my shoulders.

“Nothin’. Just remember, in this town, nothin’ stays private for long.”

“You always gotta find some kind of dig, don’tcha?” I ground out. “Need to run back and tell Dad so you can shame me together?”

“You do that perfectly fine all on your own. So go fuck yourself,” he said, then strode away with the dog on his heels. I wanted to jump the fence—the fucking fence that still needed fixing from their end—and swing my fists at him, but what good would that do except create more bad blood between us? He felt the way he did, and there was no way I was going to change his mind.

I took a moment to compose myself before cautiously walking back over to Julian, who was standing at the edge of the water, staring off in the distance. I wasn’t sure how much he’d tuned in to the conversation or if he was still lost in his own head.

“Look, I’m sorry—”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “We should’ve never—”

I reached for his shoulder. “Well, I don’t have any regrets.”

He sighed. “Yeah…me neither. Just don’t want to mess

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