The Terms of Release (24 page)

“See? I ain’t broke.”

“That’s my boy.” She was beaming, catching his hands.

“Yes, ma’am.” He held on, shaking with it, and that little torture girl brought him a wheelchair. Easing himself down was pure fucking hell, and he fought the scream with all he was.

“There you are, Mr. Redding,” the little gal chirped. “That was a great first day.”

“Fucking fabulous,” he muttered, biting the words out.

It spoke to Momma’s state of mind that she didn’t even bitch at him. She just nodded, then tried another smile. “Rosie is bringing a sausage biscuit.”

“Yay, Whataburger.” They were waiting for the funeral until he was sprung from the hospital. Momma had Daddy cremated, saying she couldn’t bear the thought of bugs eating on him. They were going to take him to the ranch, sprinkle him along the tree line that he’d loved so much.

It made Sage want to scream.

Hell, he’d apologized a dozen times, and he opened his mouth to do it again, but Momma glared. “Don’t. Don’t, Son. Just stop. He’s gone. God took him home.”

“I just—I should never have come home.”

She frowned harder. “He’d never been happier than he was working with you on the ranch. You gave him that, Son. Besides, he didn’t have a long, slow fade. He went fast. He wanted that.”

“Sure, Momma.” He didn’t know what else to say, so he was grateful for the chirpy lady who came to take him to hydrotherapy. Sage was even happier when he found out that was sitting in a hot tub.

He could fucking handle sitting and bubbling with a bunch of old guys from the VA. Even if they had to wrap him in plastic like a prize turkey.

They were cooking him up.

Bubble bubble.

God, he needed out of here.

He needed his couch and a movie and maybe Adam to love on him a little. Adam had been pulling doubles after spending the first day with Sage in the hospital.

Momma was staying at her friend June’s. Rosie was staying at the house, making sure that no one messed with it. His place was gone, from all he could gather and how no one was saying shit about it.

Penny, though—Rosie had been sending pictures of that silly mutt in her big, new fuzzy bed.

Not a scratch on her furry body. Thank God for small favors.

“Are you ready to go soak, Son? I can go grab a muffin.”

“Yeah. Yeah, Momma. I’m good. You should go rest, have real food.”

“Oh, they don’t have that here, honey. That’s why Rosie is coming. She should be here when you’re done.”

“Has the doctor said anything about when I can go home with you?”

“Not yet. I think they were waiting to see how well you walk.”

“Yeah. Well, I’m walking. There’s work waiting on me.”

“Now, Mr. Redding, I have to make a recommendation first,” Torture Girl said, wheeling him off.

“So get with it. Daylight’s burning.”

“And you’re fighting infection. Be nice.”

“I’m not feeling nice.” He wanted to apologize, but he’d be lying.

“No. I don’t imagine so. If I were you, I’d hate the whole world.”

“I’m trying hard not to.”

She patted his shoulder. “Your family is great.”

“They’re better than great.” He found a smile for her that was almost real.

“And your, uh, friend. He’s pretty.”

“Adam? Yes, ma’am.” Adam was better than pretty. Adam was also his. He would fight for the man now that he knew Adam was gonna stick around.

“Rick says he stayed all night when you had your surgery.” She wheeled him into the hydro room and started getting him wrapped up.

“And he’d been working his ass off.” The man still was. The storm had hit the county hard.

“Here we go. You have about fifteen.”

“I’ll just bubble.”

He sat there, his eyes closed, everything fading away. God, it felt good. The weight dragging him down seemed to fall right off.

He forced himself not to think on this mess, not to stress it. He’d do what he’d do, right?

Right.

How in hell was he supposed to not worry on things? His daddy was gone. His sister was pregnant, and he was nothin’ but a broke-dick cowboy ex-con.

He didn’t have a house, he couldn’t pay this hospital bill, and he wasn’t 100 percent sure he could walk right. Fuck a doodle doo.

“Hey, Sage. Your time is up, and someone brought you breakfast.” Thank God it was Rick instead of that tiny girl trying to lift him.

“Hey, man. I think I’m fixin’ to move in here.”

“Yeah? Pretty comfy, huh? Come on, though,” Rick eased him up and out then wrapped him with a big bath sheet.

His knees were screaming by the time he got back to his room, but he didn’t bitch. He wanted to go home.

“Hey, you.” It wasn’t Rosie waiting for him with breakfast. It was Adam, looking tired but smiling.

“Adam. Weren’t you on call last night?”

“Yeah, but I figured I’d stop by before I went home. Saw Rosie at the Whataburger and told her I’d bring breakfast.” Adam touched his arm, fingers warm and callused.

“I want them to let me go home.”

“They have to be sure you can heal, babe.” Adam handed over a bag of breakfast.

“I can. I will. I can’t afford this, man. I’ll never be able to pay it off.”

Adam’s eyes flashed for a moment, something sad in them. “Don’t worry about that right now, okay? You can talk with your mom later on that.”

His head tilted, his brain catching on to that look. “What did she do?”

“She didn’t do anything unusual, baby. Your dad had some insurance, is all. I feel like that’s her deal to tell you about.”

“So long as she didn’t sell the land. That’s hers. It’s Redding land.” He didn’t want it, but he’d give his soul to keep it in the family.

“Rosie has plans for it, I think. The house, well, your dad had good home insurance too.” Adam’s mouth twisted. “Your trailer is a bust, babe.”

“Yeah. I reckoned that. No one’s said a thing about it. Figured that meant it was in Oz.” Still hurt to know it, though. He imagined it would hurt again to see it. “Momma will let me stay in the guest room ’til I can move to the barn, I’m sure.”

“Shit, you can stay with me. I have a better TV.”

“Yeah? I wouldn’t mind that at all.” Hell, he might love that, a little bit.

“Hell, yes.” Adam’s grin, well, it went megawatt. The man meant it.

Sage’s cheeks stretched with his smile and, for the first time in days, something felt right. Adam and him, living together. Lord. “It’s okay if I bring Penny?”

“Yes. I mean, if my landlord doesn’t want dogs, we’ll go somewhere else. Down Fort Worth way. Or Stephenville.”

“You think? Could we do that?”
Leave?

Adam paused, seeming to give the idea the thought it deserved. “I think so. Hell, it might be best, babe. Just start over. I’m not all that much more popular here than you are.”

God, that was like a fucking fantasy. To be able to go, be where no one knew him, no one was watching him every second. He could talk to his parole officer. Move. He could.

Couldn’t he?

Surely the good Lord would let him have this. Just this.

“Talk to me, Sage?”

He met Adam’s gaze. “I want this, more than anything. That means I won’t get it.”

“Don’t.” Adam moved, shifting to hold his hand. “Don’t do that. We’ve earned a little happiness.”

“I’d hook my wagon to yours, Adam. You know I would. I ain’t worth shit, so far as the world thinks, but I’d work to put my pennies with yours, the rest of my life.”

“That’s what I need to hear. I’ll start putting out feelers on the jobs, okay? I can work anywhere, and if Jim doesn’t give me a good recommendation, I’ll turn his ass in to the damned state police.”

“I need to find someone that needs an old cowboy.” Maybe a day laborer.

“I got this crazy idea.” Adam ducked his chin, cheeks pink. Shit, Adam wasn’t the shy one between them.

“Can’t be any crazier than this last week, Adam.” He knew that.

“No. No, I know.” Adam’s laugh held a tiny note of hysteria.

“So? Just tell me. It’ll seem less weird out loud.” Lord, Adam was fixin’ to lose it.

“Well, you know I rent my house, yeah? I have some money put back. A good bit, actually. And I know you want to train horses. Raise them. I was thinking of a plot of land, investing in a few good mares….”

“Adam, I got nothing. I couldn’t help with the money part. The work, yes, but….” He shrugged. If a guy looked up broke-dick cowboy in the dictionary, there he’d be.

“Well, I sure don’t know anything about horses, so that will be your job.”

“I know all there is to know about training them, sure as shit, and Rosie wants to run cattle.” Something he didn’t quite recognize started blooming in his chest.

“Well, then, maybe you can take a few of the stock you have now.” Adam’s smile kept growing.

“Maybe. I’ll talk to Momma and Rosie.” He reached for Adam’s hand, but barely touched him before backing off.

“No one’s looking.” Adam took his hand back, holding on.

“I don’t want to get you in trouble.” He twined their fingers together.

“Well, babe, I’m already kind of there.” Shrugging, Adam stroked the back of his hand, fingers drawing little random shapes.

“Kind of.” He reached out, cupped Adam’s cheek, thumb moving slowly. “You need some rest, Officer.”

“I do. I’ll have breakfast with you first, though.”

Right. Whataburger. “Chicken biscuits or sausage? And tell me there’s coffee.”

“I got some of both, and yes, there is.”

He could just have the coffee and ignore the food.

Not that Adam ever let him do that. In fact, the man gave him a knowing look. “I also got a couple of plain biscuits.”

He felt his cheeks heat. “I’ll take a sausage one, thanks.”

“Cool.” Adam pulled back to open up the food bags, and they smelled good all of a sudden.

“Mmm.” His belly started growling.

“There you go, babe.” Adam handed over an unwrapped biscuit before pulling out a chicken biscuit and starting in.

Sometimes a man just craved a greasy biscuit.

“This is what I needed.”

Sage wasn’t sure if Adam meant the biscuit or the talk about moving away. Either way, he was suddenly starving. He bit deep, still fucking smiling around the bite.

“You still want llamas?” Adam asked around a mouthful of food.

“I like llamas. They’re good watchdogs.”

“Then we should get them too.”

“You think?” He’d like that. He loved the critters.

“Yes. You had a good plan when you were talking about that for your folks’ place.”

“I did.” That seemed like a million years ago. He could still do it, though, this time on his own land.

He rested back, full, head spinning with ideas. His eyes drooped, but Adam stayed right there with him.

“We’re going to get land together.”

“We are. Just you and me.” Adam laughed. “My family can go fuck themselves. My mom can visit, though. She’d love llamas.”

“I met her. Your mom. She brought me socks.”

“Yeah?” Blinking, Adam sort of sat there for a moment, surprised. “Did you like her?”

“I did. She’s like you. Or you’re like her. She made me laugh.”

“Oh, good.” That seemed to make Adam happy.

“Do you look like your dad?”

“I do, yeah. Mostly.”

Sage nodded. That’s what he’d thought. Adam’s mom was sure pretty, but she and her son looked nothing alike. Kind of made him happy that Adam didn’t look like Angel.

Funny, but he rarely thought about Angel these days. His brain was full of life and Adam. He guessed that was how it was supposed to be when you were happy and getting on with your life, right?

God, he sure hoped so.

“What? You’re grinning, babe.”

“I’m happy. Don’t tell anyone.”

Adam shook his head, all solemn. “Not a soul.”

“Thank you. I need to hold it tight.”

“God, you make me happy.”

How weird was it that all the things they never said, they were saying here, in a hospital room, of all places. Sage guessed they needed to be said after all that had happened.

“I miss Daddy, huh? Momma wants me to speak at the funeral, and I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s tough.” Adam balled up the wrappers from the food. “I mean, I didn’t know what the hell to say when my dad went.”

“Yeah, but you’re smart and you thought it was hard and you were still mostly a kid.”

“Stop that.” A frown crossed Adam’s face. “You’re plenty smart. This is your dad, though, and he’s gone.”

“Yeah.” And Sage couldn’t stop thinking about whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Daddy didn’t want to fade away with the Parkinson’s, but… Sage wasn’t done needing him.

“Then it’s going to suck.” Adam’s petted his arm, fingers moving in a figure eight.

“Funerals suck. All of them.”

“No shit.” They sat there for a long while, because what else could a man say about that?

He could feel himself blinking, nice and slow. Maybe it was the effort he’d put into walking, or the hot tub had done its job, but he was relaxing. It was probably Adam, though.

Whatever it was, he’d take it. He needed to rest. Maybe Adam would stay.

W
IN
WOKE
up with the imprint of hospital sheets on his cheek, his mouth all pushed to one side. Crap, he’d fallen asleep right there, leaning on Sage’s bed.

Sage’s fingers were in his hair, his lover sleeping hard, snoring.

Thank God the man had finally gotten some rest. The real food had helped, he’d bet.

“You ought to get some real sleep, Son.” His mom’s voice was so soft. “I stopped in to check on Sage.”

“Hey, Mom.” He gently disengaged from Sage’s grip and sat up all the way. “I hate to leave without telling him, and he’s sleeping good.”

“He is. He’s looking better. He’s got color today.” She handed him a Coke.

“Thanks.” He opened it up and let it burn him all the way down. No one brought him Coke, no one but his mom. “How’s Mrs. Redding?”

“Sad. Crying a lot, but that’s normal. She’s grieving.”

“Sure.” He felt so damned bad for the whole lot of them. Rosie was pregnant and getting divorced. Ellen had lost damned near everything, and Sage was laid up and feeling helpless.