All I See Is You

30. My Fault

Chapter thirty

My Fault

Hux

M y skull felt like a stake had been driven through it, but the sharp, throbbing pain was nothing compared to the guilt squeezing around my heart as I thought of last night.

Fuck, I’d been an asshole. I’d been drunk and high off the feel of riding again, and when Quinn had questioned my decision I’d lost my temper like an fucking idiot. Losing my temper made it seem tame. I’d yelled at her. In front of our friends. In front of the entire bar. Even worse, I’d let her walk away.

Fuck, I was an asshole.

I understood her hesitance. Her worry. At the heart of it all, she was just being supportive and looking out for my own well-being. But I still couldn’t help the sting in my chest at the doubt in her words when she’d said “Are you sure?”

Which wasn’t fair, I knew that now that I was sober. But at the time, I’d only seen red. Because those words struck such a chord of doubt in me. My own doubt. In the end, I was the only one who had an issue with my circumstance. Everyone else talked about how strong and brave and resilient I was, but I didn’t feel any of that. I felt useless, broken, and I hated it. With every single fiber of my being. And last night, for those few minutes, I felt wild and free and capable. And I wanted that feeling again.

But I wanted Quinn more.

This wasn’t just a fling with her. This was the real deal. I felt it in my bones. In my soul. The way I felt reminded me of the way my mom and dad still looked at each other. Quinn was it for me. I had no doubt about that.

And if having her meant giving up that part of me, I’d do it. In a damn heartbeat. Because she was all that was good and light and beautiful in this dark and lonely world and she deserved more than a drunk, hotheaded cowboy who belittled her in a bar.

After I finished my morning chores, I’d go talk to her.

I was already moving slow because of last night. We’d left shortly after my temper tantrum. Mister Mooney called the night and Cash’s cousin, Maverick, drove me home. I’d been a stumbling mess trying to get through the bunkhouse and into my room. Every part of me had wanted to go to her place, to make things right. But not as a drunken mess.

Letting out a weary sigh, I grabbed Doc’s halter from the hook just outside his stall on the wall to the right. My phone rang from my back pocket, making me wince at the loud noise. It was too early for Ghost Riders in The Sky. But that made me frown as I recognized the specific ringtone and who it must be. Why was Dad calling? He wasn’t the talk on the phone type. Really honestly, the talking type in general.

“Hello?” I said, answering the phone.

“You got about thirty seconds to explain what the hell is goin’ on, son. Your mama’s a downright wreck.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about, Dad?’

“It’s all over the local news. On The Cowboy Channel. Hell, Walker even said you broke rodeo…click clock or tick time—”

“It’s rodeo-tok, Dad!” My sister’s voice sounded warped and distant, like she was shouting from further away. But in the next instant, her words were loud and clear through the phone as she said, “Hi, Huxie. First off, your girlfriend’s really pretty, and second, you were a real asshole to her.”

“How the hell do you—” The words died on my lips. There’d been a bunch of people there last night. Likely one of them, if not more, videoed my ride or the argument that ensued after. Fuck, word traveled fast. I’d forgotten that part about bull riding. God, I was a fucking idiot. It’s like I got a taste of my old life and forgot how far I’d come since then.

Dad was already back on the line, hissing at Walker to leave him alone before he said, “You got some explainin’ to do, Huxson. Comin’ outta retirement? Fighting with your girlfriend? When the hell were you goin’ to tell us about her, by the way?”

I blew out a breath and nodded. Great. Mama was likely furious, and I didn’t miss the disappointment in my dad’s tone. “Yeah. I ‘spose you’re right. Let me finish my mornin’ chores and talk to my boss about leavin’ early. I’d rather explain it all at once to y’all in person.”

Dad’s words came out muffled, and it took me a minute to realize he wasn’t talking to me but to my mother, relaying what I’d just said. After another moment, his voice rang clear. “Your mama says to bring your girlfriend too.”

“Alright,” I said with a sigh. “Can you ask her to make fried chicken?”

It’d been too long since I’d had one of Mama’s home-cooked meals, and at least if today was a shitshow, the food would be good.

Despite my dad’s obvious annoyance, a low chuckle came through the line. “Alright. Let me know when y’all are comin’.”

“Alright, Dad.” I hung up, blowing out a breath.

Well, now I really needed to talk to Quinn.

A thin layer of sweat covered me from head to toe by the time I’d finished working horses. It couldn’t be later than 10 AM maybe, but it already felt like being in an oven. I’d already sent Rusty back inside. It was too damn hot for him out here to be watching me work horses.

A shower sounded nice right about now. The memory of Quinn and I showering yesterday before the rodeo swirled to life in my mind. God, had that only been yesterday? With how much had happened, it felt like so much more time had passed.

What I’d give to take a shower with her right now. Wash away the argument between us like washing the sweat off my skin. But Whit was probably with her and who fucking knew how talking with Quinn would go. No, I’d shower real quick and head over to her place.

I shut the stall door of my last horse and replaced the halter on the hook outside the mare’s stall before turning in the direction of the bunkhouse. Little embers of excitement and then worry warred in my chest as I thought of Quinn. What if she was pissed? What if she didn’t want to talk to me? I wouldn’t exactly blame her after last night.

The sweet scent of perfume filled my nose, and my heart skipped a beat. Had she come? But as I inhaled deeply, I all but gagged on the cloying, overpowering smell of some floral scent that was way too goddamn strong.

I bit back a snarl as I clenched my fists at my side. “Georgette,” I ground out. “What can I do for you?”

“I just…I wanted to apologize. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot.” Her sugary-sweet voice put me on edge, the closeness of it forcing me to step back. Why was she so close? And better yet, why had she come all the way down here just to apologize?

“Oh…kay,” I replied, stepping to the side of where I felt the heat of her to walk out of the barn. My nerves coiled tight and every inch of me felt on edge, trepidation swirling in the pit of my stomach. “Apology accepted. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta meet with Quinn.”

“Why are you in such a rush?” A warm hand pressed to my chest. “I was hoping you could help me with something.”

Warning bells in my mind went off like a tornado siren. Her hand drifted lower down my abdomen.

I took a step back out of her reach, and said darkly, “I can’t help you, Georgette. Now, I’m gonna leave, and I suggest you do too before I mention something to your fiancé.”

“He’d never believe you.” The words were confident, smug even, as her hand found my chest once more.

Once more I stepped out of her grip. “Yeah, well, Quinn will believe me, and I know for a damn fact her dad will take her word over yours.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Huxson Lane . I didn't realize how famous you are here. Your little temper tantrum is all over the news. I doubt she wants to talk to you after last night.” Suddenly I felt the heat of her right before me, and I backed up until I hit the wood of one of the stall doors. “She might not like your temper, but I wouldn’t mind taking a ride on you, cowboy.”

“Not interested, Georgette.” I tried to get around her, which was really fucking hard, being that I couldn’t fucking see, but she pushed me back to the stall door with more force than I’d expect from her.

“But I’m interested.” I’m sure that sultry voice worked on others, but it might as well have been acid on my skin.

I huffed. Well, this was just fucking great. On top of all the shit that had happened last night, now I needed to deal with this. I needed to get away from Georgette and talk to Quinn. Before this dumb bitch had the opportunity to spin some sob story, painting me as the villain. Girl was a spider, spinning webs of lies to get what she wanted.

Quinn’s dad deserved better than her.

The heat of her enveloped me in a sudden wave, followed by the firm pressure of something against my mouth. No, not something, her lips. The overwhelming taste of her lip gloss made me want to gag.

“What the fuck, Georgette?” I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth, spitting, as if I could get any lingering bit of her off me.

Shoving her out of the way, I started walking in the direction of the barn doors, but I ran into one of the fucking wheel barrows used for mucking stalls, spilling the entire contents and stumbling over myself.

She was there in an instant like a locust. Or a spider going in for the kill. To do what, I don't know. But before she could sink her fangs in, a familiar voice called out from somewhere ahead of me, “Do not. Fucking. Touch. Him. Again.”