Page 32 of His Fresh Start Cowboy
“Why? What did Buck do to him?”
Rem shook his head. “Not my place, brother. If Hugo wants his boss to know the details of his past, he’ll tell you.” Bro code for: back the hell off.
“Yeah, okay. Call him, please? Maybe he’ll tell you what’s eating him.”
“I will. Thanks for looking out for him today.”
“Sure.” Brand winked to try and shave a bit of seriousness off their conversation. “Gotta look after my new star employee.”
“Eh, fuck off.”
Brand knuckled him in the shoulder, then went back inside. That night, he lay awake for a long time after the house settled. Moonlight cast a silver glow across the wood floorboards, but he found no comfort in its familiar sight. His mind was still haunted by Hugo’s wide, devastated eyes and the reasons behind those emotions. Reasons he desperately wanted to know, but also feared.
He feared knowing what sort of ghosts could put that kind of pain back into a man who’d once stood so confidently. And he silently vowed to do everything he could to save Hugo any more of that pain in the future.
Chapter Ten
After making himself a ham sandwich for dinner—and not deli ham, but thick slices of real ham Elmer had cooked for his own supper the other night—Hugo stretched out on his bed and stared at the ceiling, while his hands throbbed. The pain kept him both firmly in the present, but it also tickled at his past. At other bruises and small injuries.
“Boys will be boys,”was his mother’s tired old song whenever Hugo had complained of Buck’s actions.
“Some boys will be abusive fuckers who grow up to assault their girlfriends,” he told the ceiling.
It didn’t reply.
Tonight felt like a beer night for sure, but Hugo didn’t have the energy to go out, even if he’d had a working scooter. Elmer might let him borrow his truck, but Elmer had already done so much for him since yesterday. After Hugo swerved to miss the truck head-on, the scooter had caught in the shoulder’s gravel, spun out, and he’d been tossed into the ditch. He hadn’t blacked out but the world had gotten really fuzzy for a while, until he registered the middle-aged man squatting next to him, asking if he was okay.
The gentleman had been genuinely worried—and had probably wondered if Hugo was drunk in the middle of the day—but Hugo had assured him he had simply gotten lost in thought. The accident was completely his fault, but the man had been kind enough to put both Hugo and the scooter in his truck and take Hugo to a doctor.
Calling Elmer for help later had been humiliating. Elmer had shown up with a paternal smile and taken Hugo home. Straight into Elmer’s home so Hugo could rest on the couch and Elmer could make sure he didn’t fall asleep. The doctor didn’t think Hugo had a concussion but it was better to be safe. Hugo had appreciated the kindness more than he’d been able to properly express. In some ways, Elmer reminded him a bit of Arthur Garrett and the paternal way he interacted with all of his Clean Slate employees.
Hugo really should have called out today and rested, but his mind had been a whirring mess, full of thoughts of Buck being free soon. Mom had, in all likelihood, told Frank about Hugo’s visit yesterday, and Frank was going to inevitably tell Buck that Hugo was back in the area. He knew he’d run the risk of seeing Buck when he came back to Texas, but he’d relaxed a lot when Rem told him the asshole was in prison.
And now he was getting out.
His cell rang. Hugo glanced at the screen, half hoping it was Brand, and not surprised that it was Rem. “Hey, dude.”
“Hey back,” Rem said. “Brand told me about your accident. How you feeling?”
“Sore and tired, mostly. I am so sorry about the scooter, but it’s getting fixed and I’ll pay for it.”
“Don’t worry about that, I’m just glad you didn’t get creamed or something. Brand said you worked too hard today and he’s making you take tomorrow off.”
“Yeah.”
“So what happened at your mom’s house that had you so distracted you ran off the road?”
Leave it to Rem to get right to the point. He’d always been a blunt person, and it was nice to see some things never changed. “He’s getting out, Rem.”
A beat of silence. “Who’s getting out of—Wait. Buck?” His voice rose on that single-syllable name. “Are you shitting me?”
“Nope, not shitting you. Overcrowding in the prison or some kind of bullshit excuse. He’ll be out by the end of the week, and Mom didn’t say it outright, but I’ll bet you my entire year’s salary he’ll be allowed back into their house while he serves whatever parole they slap on him.”
“Fuck, I can’t believe it. No wonder you were a mess today.”
Hugo grunted. “Brand said I was a mess?”
“Well, he didn’t use that word, but he could tell something was bothering you and that it had to do with your mom. He asked about you and Buck, but I said it was your private business. The stuff you told me in confidence, man, I don’t spread that around. Never have, never will.”
