doing, but he was pretty sure he was going to regret it. Last time he’d welcomed Blue into his life, she’d messed around, she’d had fun, and then she’d left. She’d left him behind and traveled the world and he’d never been the same since. Lain had been right - the drinking and the hookers had gotten out of control after Blue’s first departure. Could he handle her leaving again?
Because she was still the same person. And he was still the same person. And they’d make the same fucked up decisions again. And he’d be left behind, broken pieces scattered to the wind.
She didn’t want commitment. She didn’t want to be tied down. She wanted to live in hostels and backpack through Europe and never know where she’d go to sleep the next night. He wanted…well, he wanted this. An old, beat-up mansion that he could return to its former glory through blood, sweat, and a whole lotta passion. Every corner of his house was stamped with his personality now, and that was exactly how he wanted it. He wanted a home that he could pass on to his children and grandchildren.
But without Blue…the idea of trying to fall in love and marry someone else sent a bolt of panic through him. Since Blue had walked out of his life all those years ago, he’d never found anyone who came even close to filling her shoes - sparking that same love and desire and fierce protectiveness inside of him that Blue had. She’d been his all, and when she left, she’d taken a chunk out of his soul that he’d never been able to replace, no matter how many antique finds he’d discovered or sheep he’d fucked or whiskey sours he’d drank.
But with Blue…that sent a bolt of panic through him too. She left you before - she’s going to do it again . You can’t trust her. You can’t rely on her. And you sure as hell can’t fall in love with her. Again.
He was angry at himself - being around Blue was like being high on a drug. It felt so goddamn good when she was there, but when she left, the high crashed and the aftermath was ugly. And here he was, getting right back onto that rollercoaster again. Dumbass.
“C’mon boy, let’s go,” he said softly, and walked out of his bedroom. Turbo thumped his tail on the bed, but didn’t move. Rush looked back, frowning. “C’mon, Turbo, we gotta go. She needs her sleep,” he said in a loud whisper. Blue didn’t seem to hear him, but neither did Turbo. He settled down on the foot of the bed, where he always slept at night, and put his head down on his front paws. And then, he had the audacity to close his eyes!
“Fine, be that way!” Rush grumbled, and then headed out to the garage. Maybe pounding some nails out of old wood so he could reuse it as wainscoting in the upstairs bathroom would put him in the better mood. Bonus points if he managed to complete the project without smashing any fingers in the process.
He was really getting his pounding on and feeling better about life, liberty, and the world in general, when he heard a car pull up in the driveway. It was probably the first Blue Devils, coming to take up watch over his house. They were going to switch out guard duty, three guys, every six hours, around the clock. It made Rush grateful yet again for the support that his brothers gave him.
But when he stepped outside, it was two Copper Lode policemen stepping out of a police car that greeted him.
He waved at the guys in blue and then pulled out his cell. “Police are here,” he texted Lain, and then pocketed his phone. He went over to greet the men, shaking Officer Davis and then Officer Lopez’s hands.
“Is Hannah Wright here?” Lopez asked, once the pleasantries were over.
“Yeah, but she’s asleep at the moment,” Rush said. “Head wounds are nasty sons of bitches.”
Lain pulled up in front of the house under the shade of an acacia tree and cut the engine on his Harley. “Hey guys!” he called out, hanging up his helmet and then striding up the front walk. He