Page 35 of The Fence Between Us

Dash’s expressionless face calmed Rabble enough to finish his tale.

“With Mrs. Basket’s help, by the time graduation rolled around, I made it to school just enough to pass and I’d been trying to patch up the holes in my life. Things were kind of starting to look up. And then, Max found me. He cornered me at Mr. Jack’s pharmacy after work one night, and God, he knew.” Rabble dropped his head, letting it hang as he stared, unseeing at his clasped hands, “He knew exactly what to say, what to jab at to unravel every bit of self-confidence I’d started to gain.”

“What did he say?” Declan asked, his face unreadable.

Rabble shrugged, “Beyond the typical, ‘you’re lazy trailer trash who came from nothing and will never amount to anything’? He hit me where he knew it would hurt. Skye. I had nothing to offer her, no money, no name, nothing. And she, she was on a good path, one that would take her places, allow her to make something of herself. And what was I? The son of a drunk and a dead waitress.”

“Man, that’s bullshit,” Declan seethed.

“Maybe so, but to an eighteen-year-old kid who just spent the last three years doing everything to self-destruct that he could think of? Max’s words were cruel, but true. I was a nobody. Skye deserved better than me, better than anything I could ever offerher. So, Max made me a deal. Leave his daughter alone, find somewhere else to live out my miserable existence, and he would make sure I made it wherever I needed to be. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Taking the money had seemed like the best option; joining the military had been purely selfish, a move meant to keep him occupied so he didn’t have time or energy to think about Shiloh Hills, about Skye. He wanted to give Skye the chance to grow, to become the woman he always knew she could be. She’d marry some scumbag, but at least she’d be happy. What was he other than the rabble from the wrong side of the fence, with no money or a single redeeming quality to his name? He had nothing to offer her. And she deserved it all, every good thing in this world.

Rabble struggled to think past the grief, a lead weight in his chest. He’d done this. Even after years of trying to protect her, he had caused sadness and despair in her beautiful eyes. Any pain she felt now was entirely on him.

“I have to go get Bekah,” Declan said, his voice low as he jumped off of the railing and clapped Rabble on the shoulder. A gesture, not of forgiveness exactly, but of understanding and acceptance. Rabble would take it.

Dash sat next to Rabble on the swing, “Rab.”

Rabble braced himself.

“You don’t get to make those decisions for Skye.”

Shock barreled through him, “What?”

Dash met his eyes, the frankness there that Rabble usually found comforting now made his heart pound.

“You don’t get to make those decisions for Skye, any more than her father does. Love is more than blind protection. That instinct is strong, especially in men like us, but when it comes down to loving someone, sometimes the ability to let them meet challenges head on, no matter how difficult it is for us, it’s part of the package deal.”

A quiet fell between them, each lost in their own thoughts. Rabble turned Dash’s words over in his head, examining them through the fog of the mistakes he’d made. Neither spoke until Declan returned with Bekah.

Bekah, despite her disapproving look in his direction forced a bag of chips and a bottle of water on Rabble when he refused lunch. The chips tasted like sawdust, the water like acid.

Bekah glanced at her phone for the tenth time, and she flicked a worried gaze at Declan each time. She was waiting for a response from Skye.

“She won’t answer me either,” Rabble said, his voice ragged.

Bekah turned toward him, worrying her lip. “No offense, but do you blame her?”

Flinching, Rabble had to give her that one, especially considering her own experiences with two-faced jackasses.

Bekah seemed poised to speak again but the subtle shake of Declan’s head had her pausing and reconsidering her words.

Even though Rabble appreciated his brother looking out for him, he wouldn’t blame Skye if she never spoke to him again. Maybe she packed everything and left town. He wouldn’t condemn her for that either.

Bekah tried Skye’s phone a few more times before Declan drove her to The Wild Bride to help Elyza with the shop. The glaring rift between Rabble and Skye couldn’t stop everyone else’s lives from continuing. It seemed odd that they could keep going, just another day in their existence as the world spun around him, even though Rabble felt like his world was ending.

Rabble eventually moved from his vigil on the porch swing, wandering inside to change shirts and sulk. He poured himself some coffee and returned outside where he sat on the stairs and stared out over the backyard. When the back door slammed shut again, he didn’t turn around.

“Brought you dinner.” Mrs. Basket said, passing him a sandwich wrapped in a paper towel.

“I messed up,” he said, hanging his head.

“You did.” She agreed, resting a warm hand on his shoulder. “But you’ll fix it.”

Then she passed him a small black felt box. He recognized it instantly and his eyes widened as he glanced between her and the box he now clutched alongside his sandwich. He set the sandwich atop one knee and carefully lifted the box lid, his fingers shaking ever so slightly. There, nestled atop a pillow of black satin, sat the simple ring he’d purchased long ago.

“Sylvie—,” words failed him.

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