Unbreak My Heart (Rough Riders Legacy Book 1)

by Lorelei James

  I waited.

  “This is so fucked up,” he whispered. “I never imagined this stuff went on in my family. So he totally blindsided me when he said he’d been sexually abused from age three until he turned twelve.” He paused. “By his dad, Sierra.”

  I rolled over and wrapped myself around him as he began to talk.

  He’d stop and start, the shock still evident as he tried to process it.

  My questions were slow in coming, mostly because I didn’t know what to ask. Although Boone’s grandparents lived in Wyoming, he’d never been close to them, which surprised me, given how I’d seen the other members of the West family act around their grandkids. Also given that Boone was their only grandchild. He wouldn’t appreciate me saying he’d dodged a bullet with their apathy toward him. And I wanted to kick myself for thinking that when the conversation took a darker turn.

  “I guess my dad’s one edict to my mom was not to let me spend time with them.”

  “He considered that his way of protecting you?”

  “Oh, he admitted his neglect of me was intentional. Because he couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t have those same tendencies as his father, so he left me with a drug-addicted and abusive mother…you know…to keep me safe.”

  The sarcasm was as harsh as a slap in the face. Boone was never sarcastic.

  I raised my head from his chest and looked at him. “Boone. Are you serious? He said that?”

  “What’s worse? He justified it. Even now he acts like he made some big fucking sacrifice by purposely being a shitty father and staying away from me.”

  “What did you say?”

  “What could I say? I lost my temper.”

  “I don’t blame you. Did you get up and storm off?”

  “No. I meant to say I didn’t temper my responses. He took it in stride, but what other choice did he have?”

  “Did…things end on decent terms?”

  “We didn’t hug it out, if you can believe that.”

  Even that flip answer hurt my heart.

  “So yeah, it sort of ended on decent terms. With all the stuff he told me, I said I needed time to take it in. That wasn’t a total lie.” Boone traced my jawline. “You’re clenching your teeth, gorgeous.”

  “Of course I am.”

  “Tell me what’s going through your head.”

  “Filtered or unfiltered version?”

  “Unfiltered.” He leaned down and kissed me softly. “Always.”

  I glanced down at his chest and started toying with his chest hair. “Just because his childhood had been stolen from him didn’t give him the right to steal yours. That’s what he did. He can lie to himself and claim it was to save you, but it was to save himself the embarrassment of having to tell anyone what his father had done to him.”

  “I said the same thing. But it seemed really harsh to say.”

  “He didn’t act like telling you his traumas should change how you view the past—your past? You know, all those years that you spent a lonely, neglected little boy? With no one hugging you or feeding you or giving a damn about you?” My voice broke and I tried to hide it because Boone didn’t need to deal with my emotions—I was here for him.

  “Hey.” He tipped my head back. “I know this is ugly stuff.”

  “I can handle it. What I can’t handle is you thinking you have to deal with any of this ugly stuff alone anymore.”

  “I sorta gathered that when you showed up at midnight.” He traced the indent of my chin. “Thank you.”

  Then Boone idly stroked my arm so I knew something else was on his mind. I waited.

  After a while he said, “Do you think love forgives everything?”

  “For example?”

  “I love you, Sierra. The longer we’re together, the more I’m gonna love you.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Should my love for you forgive you for everything?”

  “Are you asking me if there’s an unforgiveable action that would allow you to—maybe make you—fall out of love with me?”

  He stopped touching me for just a moment. “Yeah.”

  “I’m not being flip or saying this to make a bigger point, but if you found out that I sexually abused kids—ours or others—that’s unforgiveable. I wouldn’t deserve your love or anyone else’s.”

  “But even if you stopped the behavior and sought help? Even if you had regrets and remorse? I shouldn’t love you? I shouldn’t believe you could change? I shouldn’t stand by you and support you?”

  I rolled slightly to look into his face. “What are you getting at?”

  Boone paused again. “I was thinking about my grandmother. Say she didn’t know about the sexual abuse. Say she found out and confronted her husband. Say he agrees to get help and stops the abuse. So at the darkest part of his life, she’s supposed to walk away? When he needs her love and support the most?”

  “Yes. He willfully harmed their child—physically and emotionally. He doesn’t deserve love and support; he deserves to go to fucking jail. And from what your father told you, after the abuse ended, neither one of them gave him love and understanding. Your grandfather didn’t show remorse. He’s never apologized to his son for all the heinous things he did to him. Your grandparents just went on with their lives and left their son to deal with it on his own.”

  “Would you…could you forgive me? If we had a kid I abused? If I did all the right things afterward? Got help, asked for forgiveness, tried to mend my life and fix whatever sick compulsion that might be fucking genetic? Could you love me?”

  My heart collapsed. That wasn’t something he needed to worry about or focus on. “Boone. I can’t imagine all of the things that are going through your head right now. Let’s strip as much emotion from this as we can.”

  “What are you—?”

  “Hear me out. You are a medical professional. You’ve taken the biology and psychology classes. Don’t statistics overwhelmingly show that victims of sexual abuse usually become abusers themselves? I don’t think you need to worry that you’ve got a gene that’ll give you a higher chance than the rest of the population of becoming a pedophile.”

  “My dad worried about that.”

  I counted to ten. “Your dad was abused, so he had a reason to worry. He stopped the cycle.”

  “That’s one thing he said to me. That I should be grateful I’m not dealing with what he is. He said my life, my childhood could’ve been so much worse.”

  “Stop.” I kissed him. “Let’s take a break from talking about this for a while. Try and stop thinking about it.”

  “I can’t. Jesus. This is life-altering stuff. I wish I could just shut it down. Stop thinking about it, stop talking about it. I don’t know how to say this… What I found out tonight, you won’t talk about that with anyone else, will you?”

  “Anyone else meaning…my dad? My sister? My McKay cousins? Or maybe I’d call up Aunt Carolyn or Aunt Kimi and go off on them about their brother being a sick man, an incestuous pedophile?” Infuriated, I wiggled free of his hold and climbed off the bed. “I cannot believe you even asked me that, Boone. Jesus Christ.”

  “This is new to me. I’ve never had anyone in my life I share everything with. So why are you acting offended? Like it’s a given that you don’t share what I tell you with anyone else, when I know damn well you’ve told Lu some of the things that have happened between us? Like us fucking in the foyer and the pool—I got an attaboy from Raj which did not make me happy. I have no idea how much detail you went into. You never asked if I minded that you discussed our sex life with your roommate!”

  He shouted that last part and I cringed.

  “So how am I supposed to know where you draw the line in telling secrets if I don’t ask? I oughta assume you won’t mention it even in passing to Kyler? ‘Hey, Ky, no we couldn’t make the party because we were in Flagstaff after Boone had a meeting with his father. That is one fucked-up situation with the West family—and I thought what Boone dealt with growing up was
bad, but it’s nothing compared to what his dad went through with his father. Some sick shit there. Not that I can tell you anything about it.’” He paused to slow his labored breathing. “Am I wrong?”

  God. He pissed me off.

  Mostly because he was right.

  We’d talked about financial responsibilities.

  We’d talked about household responsibilities—but it’d taken us a big goddamned fight to deal with that.

  I didn’t ever want to make a misstep and hurt him by my assumptions.

  Maybe I already had.

  I assumed because Lu and I joked around about sex that Boone and Raj did too. Had it been wrong to tell Lu that I’d finally christened the pool—with Boone—because it’d been a topic of conversation between her and me since I’d bought the house? Had it been wrong to tell Lu that Boone was awesome in bed? Even when I hadn’t gone into details about our first time except to tell her where it’d happened and that it had been worth the seven-year wait?

  We hadn’t set parameters for what was private between us as lovers, between us as a couple, and as each other’s confidantes.

  I’d never had anyone in my life that I’d bared all to either.

  I looked up and found my beautiful Brooding Boone staring at me, practically daring me to argue.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. We should add this to those Relationship Rules as something that needs discussion and defined parameters. But to put our mind at ease, I promise what you’ve told me tonight won’t ever leave this room. I promise everything you told me about your childhood will always only stay between us. I’m sorry you even had to question me about it, but you had every right to.”

  He blinked at me.

  “So are we good?”

  “Come here.”

  I took his hand and he tucked me against his body—after bestowing tender kisses that filled me with warmth, not heat.

  I yawned, but Boone’s entire body remained rife with tension. “Would a massage help you fall asleep?”

  “No. But thanks for the offer.” He kissed my forehead. “I don’t know if I tell you often enough how much I love all the thoughtful things you do for me. I never understood the appeal of having someone take care of me. I love that you just…know what I need.” He sighed. “I suck at doing that for you right now, but I promise I’m gonna learn how to give that back to you.”

  We were quiet for a bit. Then I said, “Do you work tomorrow?”

  “No. I’m off until noon on Monday for the ever-popular noon to midnight shift. Why?”

  I propped myself on his chest. “Have you ever been to Sedona?”

  “Just what I drove through to get here.”

  “Let’s spend tomorrow playing tourist. It’s a gorgeous county and the weather is perfect this time of year. We haven’t done anything like that yet. The two of us on a day trip with no agenda.”

  “You trying to keep my mind occupied, McKay?”

  “Not as much as I want to show you the beautiful state I was born in. There’s more to Arizona than Phoenix.”

  Boone smiled—my smile—for the first time since I’d shown up. “Sounds like a plan.”

  I peppered his chest with kisses. “We’ll have so much fun! But we will have to hit a discount store first thing in the morning since all I have for clothes is the dress I wore to the wedding.” I smirked. “Dude. Do you know what this means? I’ll have my first walk of shame moment in Walmart! It’s like a rite of passage. I’m totally Instagramming it.”

  That actually earned me a chuckle.

  “Can we take selfies? So we have pictures of us as a couple to put up in the house and at work? We could even start a photo album, scrapbook thingy to document our adventures together.”

  His smile faded. “Sierra, why did you ask for permission? Because that wasn’t what I meant when we talked about boundaries.”

  “I know. I asked because you wouldn’t let me take pictures of you or us before.”

  “I’m not camera shy.” He slid his hand around my neck. The tips of his fingers were rough and dry against the damp flesh at the start of my hairline. He brushed his thumb across my jawline. “I didn’t want pictures of us because it would’ve been too fucking hard to look at them. For both of us.”

  “Oh.”

  “Besides, admit that if you would’ve had a pic of me, you would’ve enlarged that motherfucker and used it for target practice.”

  I laughed. “Maybe.”

  A knock on the door at eight a.m. had me scurrying over to slip the chain lock into place since I was still in my bra and panties. I said, “Come back later. We’re not ready to check out.”

  “This isn’t the maid,” a male voice said. Then a pause followed. “This is Boone’s room?”

  Boone threw back the covers and stood to yank on his jeans and a tank top. “Hang on, Dad.” He rummaged in his duffel bag and dug out a pair of athletic shorts and a T-shirt. He tossed them both to me. “Put these on.”

  “Or I could just hide in the bathroom.”

  He didn’t even crack a tiny grin.

  As soon as I covered myself, Boone opened the door. “Hey. I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning.”

  “I thought maybe we could have breakfast before we went our separate ways.” He craned his neck to see me better. “I didn’t realize you’d met a…friend.”

  “Sierra is my girlfriend. She arrived last night from Phoenix and we’re touring Sedona today. We were just about to head out.”

  I didn’t fault Boone for using sightseeing as an excuse to explain my presence. I waggled my fingers at Boone’s dad and said, “Hi,” knowing that’d be the extent of our interaction. I tried not to stare, but I didn’t see a family resemblance, either between him and Boone, or between him and his brothers, Chet and Remy.

  Boone’s father put me under equal scrutiny. As if he should know me.

  That kicked me back to a memory I’d forgotten. I had seen Dax West one time. West Construction had been doing some remodel work for my dad. Because at sixteen I was obsessed with all things Boone West, I watched the construction from the upstairs window, hoping for a glimpse of my crush. That day a truck I hadn’t seen before pulled in. The man opened the driver’s side door and stood on the running board. Then he honked the horn twice and yelled something. Chet and Remy exited the barn with Boone following behind them. Boone of the slumped shoulders, with his hair obscuring his face, his hands shoved in his pockets and his focus on the toes of his work boots.

  Boone’s father pointed at his son and then the passenger side of the truck. I remembered thinking how odd it was that he never actually addressed Boone; the entire terse conversation had happened between Dax and his brothers. Then he’d gotten back in his truck and sped off.

  So to watch this Boone, standing tall, looking his father in the eye and telling him no to breakfast because we had plans today, made me so freakin’ proud. Boone had become his own man—no thanks to this man.

  Boone said, “Safe travels,” and shut the door. Then he faced me. “Better get your dress on for that walk of shame, baby.”

  Sightseeing with Boone ruined me for sightseeing with anyone else.

  We spent the entire day exploring one part of the Red Rock-Secret Mountain Wilderness. He convinced me that instead of doing a drive through and trying to see all of the famous rock formations in one day, we should concentrate on a specific section. Setting a limit also provided us with an excuse to return because we’d barely scratched the surface of all the places to see.

  He fell in love with the area, just as I suspected he would. Although the topography, rock coloration and vegetation was nothing like east central Wyoming, I knew it reminded him of Sundance and Devil’s Tower.

  We hiked the eight-mile Secret Canyon trail to Maroon Mountain. The gorgeous vistas included a dazzling display of scarlet and gold foliage from the maple and oak trees that grew in the upper section of the canyon where there was water year round.

  I snapped tons o
f pictures with my phone and ended up with several great shots of us on our first day-trip adventure.

  By the time we were back in the city of Sedona, we were both tired. Boone booked our reservation for the night and I didn’t have any expectations—I just wanted a room with a shower and bed and him in it. So the luxury of L’Auberge de Sedona stunned me. We had a corner room with a four-poster canopy bed, a fireplace, a sitting area and a balcony overlooking Oak Creek.

  After I showered, I slipped on the complimentary spa robe and wandered onto the balcony. I rested against the railing, watching the setting sun throwing light over the cathedral spires in the distance, when Boone came up behind me.

  He latched onto my hips and placed a kiss on the side of my neck. “So? What do you think?”

  His scent enveloped me and I closed my eyes. “I think everything about it is beautiful. You have excellent taste, West.”

  “Yes, I do.” He swept my hair aside, using his teeth on my neck in that skillful and maddening way that weakened my knees. “I know what I need to taste right now,” he growled against my skin.

  “Right here?” I breathed.

  “No. I want you naked and no one gets to see you like that but me.” Boone steered me into the room, his mouth never leaving my skin.

  Immediately I noticed a warm, woodsy scent filling the space. I twisted away from his marauding mouth for a moment so I could pinpoint the source of that scent.

  Candles.

  Boone had lit the candles scattered throughout the room. Every surfaced glowed from the flickering flames—reflected in the mirrors, the glass coffee table, the polished wooden side tables and glinted in the steel behind the mantel. The open balcony doors sent the sheer white canopy on the bed fluttering in the breeze. This fairytale setting disproved his claim about not being romantic.