And then he pulled back and clobbered me straight in the jaw.
Lights out.
“Did you knock him out, or was it the beer?” Trey’s voice cut through my hazy brain.
“Judging by the pile of cans, I’d say it’s the beer,” Dallin added.
“When he wakes up, I’ll try again.” Parker deadpanned, and I groaned, already dreading meeting the end of his fist again.
“It was you, big guy.” I hissed, rolling over to my side, on the ground, because apparently, it was too much to have hoped that one of them would have caught me before I fell face-first into the dirt. “All you.”
“Good choice.” Trey stage whispered from the tailgate of my truck, still drinking my beer.
I got to my knees and wrenched my jaw back and forth, testing to see if it was broken or not, but heard no clicks or crunches.
“Well, now that we have that out of the way.” I stumbled to my feet and held onto my tailgate for dear life. “He’s good?”
Parker scoffed and cracked his knuckles like he was really itching to go for round two, but Dallin put his hand on his shoulder, holding him back, and replied. “He was broke down in the middle of a field, ready to let exposure and dehydration kill him.”
I froze, staring at my friend in disbelief. “He said that?” I asked for clarification.
“He admitted he didn’t go out there to commit suicide.” Parker jumped in, “But that he wasn’t fighting against it anymore when I found him.”
My heart shattered in my chest, hearing the words I dreaded the most. I drove him to that low point.
“I’m sorry.” I kept my head hung in shame.
“Why didn’t you tell us the truth of what you said when you first asked for help?” Dallin asked, barely masking his anger.
I picked my head up and stared at him, “Would you admit all of your faults to me?”
“If there was more at risk than just my pride, yes.” He snapped.
“I’m sorry,” I stated again, resolved to take my lumps because, in reality, nothing I could say would make it better.
“Enough.” Trey bit out. “You’ve both made your points. Move on.”
“Why are you so invested in saving his ass?” Parker bit out, “Since this whole thing started, you’ve had his back. And I can’t figure out why when our other friend is the one who’s hurt!”
“He’s hurt.” Trey sounded calm and purposeful as he slid off the tailgate. “Even though he caused Knox’s pain, doesn’t mean he isn’t hurting too!”
“Stop.” I shook my head and tried to reason with Trey, whose temper had always been as short as mine. “Don’t fight because of me.”
“You don’t get it,” Trey shrugged his shoulders, “But I do. I get you.” He said firmly, “And I’m not going to stand by while they kick you while you’re already down. Aside from the initial punch, nothing more is on us to hand out to you.”
“He’s right.” Dallin sighed, putting his hands in his pockets as he looked at me like he didn’t quite recognize the man in front of him. I hated that look. It made my skin burn. “Let’s leave him to it.” He took a step back towards the truck.
“You’re kidding, right?” Trey spit out, “Just leave him here?” He threw an empty beer can onto the ground and stomped it. “Like this? Who are you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dallin squinted at his husband in outrage.
“It means when the going gets tough, and I fuck up,” he raised his arms in the air, “Again! Are you going to just leave me to it? To self-destruct into an early grave.”
“I didn’t—” Dallin sighed, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration.
“Never mind.” Trey waved his hand at him dismissively, “Go home. I got this.”
“What do—,”
“Leave!” Trey bellowed, and my head pulsated from it. “Just go.”
Surprisingly, both Parker and Dallin got into the truck and left.
“Wow.” I hummed, trying to pull myself up onto the tailgate and failing miserably, landing on the ground. “You should have left with them.” I coughed after inhaling a mouthful of dirt. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You really don’t get it, do you?” He squinted at me and then picked up the discarded beer cans and threw them into the truck bed and closed the tailgate.
“I mean, on a good day I might have a better shot at following.” I crawled to my feet again, “But today isn’t a good day.”
Trey grabbed the front of my shirt and shook me. “Broken knows broken, Brody.” He shook his head in disbelief, “Don’t you understand that?”
“Not really.”
“And that’s a damn fucking shame.” He let go of my shirt and held his hand out, “Keys.”
“Carjacking me now?” Fishing around in my pocket for them, I handed them over. I didn’t need them in my condition. I was stupid, but not that stupid.
