Page 100 of Burned & Bound

Jackson…” I whispered intothe dark. He didn’t move in his spot next to me, so I tried again. “Jackson.”

He let out a low groan but didn’t move.

“Jackson.”

“What?” he mumbled, the word coming out jumbled and damn near incomprehensible.

“I can’t sleep,” I admitted and felt fucking pathetic for doing so.

“Okay.” He blew out a breath of air followed by another groan. “I’m up. I’m up.”

He shifted and the dim light on his side flipped on. He ran his hands over his face, blinking hard against the light.Fuck, why the hell had I woken him up?I promised him I would stay, but even exhausted, I couldn’t shut my brain off. It just kept running through things over and over without any hope of fucking stopping.

I desperately wanted to bolt—to hide somewhere until my brain shut the fuck up—but I’d promised him I would stay.

I didn’t know what the fuck to do.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I can’t fucking sleep,” I repeated.What a stupid fucking answer.Any idiot could see that I couldn’t sleep. “I can’t… get my brain to turn off. I just…”

“Okay.” Those sleepy blue eyes found mine and he smiled. It did something to my heart—something I couldn’t explain. I remained silent as he made himself comfortable beside me, rolling on his side and pulling a pillow to his chest.God, he was fucking adorable.“So… what have you been up to for the past seventeen years?”

I barked out a harsh laugh, making him shrug. It was a ridiculously stupid question.

“Best I’ve got on short notice, baby,” he murmured. “I’ll make a list of late-night conversation topics later.”

That sentiment sobered my amusement because he would. I knew he would. After everything he’d done for me, I knew he’d do just that for the next time this happened.

“How about you tell me what you’ve been doing for work for the last seventeen years,” he continued.

“A little bit of everything,” I said, facing him. I dragged the blanket over me, using it more for comfort than warmth. The softness did something for me that I couldn’t explain.Why the fuck hadn’t I kept blankets around more in the past?“I did housing construction for a while, but then I got fired for drinking. Worked in a bar for a while. Got fired for punching a guy. At least I didn’t get arrested again.”

“That’s a good thing,” Jackson agreed.

“Found a job working plumbing, got fired for drinking. Had a couple of odds and ends kind of jobs in there. mostly got fired for drinking.” I made a face.There was a fucking theme here that sober me had blatantly ignored for most of my life.“I was a tow truck driver when I got the call about the ranch.”

“How?” He frowned. “Don’t you need a special license to do that? Being a felon, I would think you can’t get it.”

“I mean I can drive all the equipment, we just don’t ask about the license,” I told him. Technically, I hadn’t even tried to get my license. “And when your boss is a cheap asshole, questions like that don’t get asked.”

“Makes sense.”

“Yeah.”

“Why’d you keep up with my career, West?” he asked.

Oh. That.I flopped onto my back and pointedly stared up at the ceiling as I tried to think about how to best answer that question.

“Do you remember when you told me you were getting lessons on bull riding?” I replied, and he made a sound. “And I told you I’d be there to watch you fall flat on your face?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled.

“I wanted… I wanted to be there, you know? I just didn’t… I know I left, but it was because of Harrison.”

“I know.”

“If I stayed… ”He would’ve fucking killed me.

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