“Like something I could fall in and never come back up again? Like Little Timmy, minus the Lassie, to save me?” I teased.
He gave me a droll look.
“You think I wouldn’t save you?” He asked, really making the mock hurt in his voice apparent.
I shrugged. “If you saw me fall down.”
“Huh,” he grunted, not really having much to say to that.
It was true. A harsh truth, but true nonetheless.
“How many acres do you have here?” I asked him a little while later.
Stepping over a large trunk in front of him, he stopped on the other side and offered me his hand.
I took it and stepped up onto the large fallen tree, then launched myself at him.
He caught me with a laugh, twirling me up and around until I was on his back.
I laughed breathlessly in reaction.
“A little over thirty,” he answered my earlier question.
We walked a little while longer, keeping me on his back.
He had his hands curled underneath my knees, and his forearms were braced underneath the lower part of my leg.
I had my head rested on his back when we heard dogs barking.
Dogs that weren’t ours, since we’d left them at our apartment.
“How close are your nearest neighbors?” I questioned.
He shrugged, making my body go up and down with the movement of his shoulder. “No clue, to be honest. Calloway lives about four miles down the road past the entrance to my driveway, and I’d guess we were closest to his property. Yet, I don’t think we’re really that close. We haven’t gotten off my property yet, I have a fence surrounding it, from what I was told.”
I ran my chin along his head and said, “You don’t like it out here, do you?”
He sighed. “Not really, no. It reminds me of what I don’t have. What I lost. The only reason I’m fixing it up now was because I was tired of having Miller and Foster at my place. They’re great guys, and they can stay for as long as they want, I just don’t see why I shouldn’t move out here when I have my own place.”
I leaned my head down until it was resting on his shoulder and letting my hand slip around his muscled throat, curling it to rest under his ear.
“Then sell it,” I countered.
“If I sell it, then Prescott will just buy out the next owner, and I don’t want him to have it. It’s petty, yes, but I feel like I owe it to my dad,” Downy sighed in exasperation.
“You don’t talk about him much.” I observed.
He shrugged. “He died when I was fourteen when his rig exploded. They never found his body because it burned so hot, but they knew he was there. Him and twelve other men died that night.”
I kissed his ear. “That’s awful.”
He nodded. “Yeah, it was. I loved my dad, and I looked up to him. It was a hard transition. All of a sudden, I no longer had my father at a crucial age when I needed him the most. Then my mom lost the house when she couldn’t pay the house note. It all just snowballed from there. It wasn’t a fun experience, and I hope I never have to live through anything like that again.”
“My mom and dad had a period like that when I was thirteen or so. The MC’s clubhouse burned down to the ground, and with it the paint and auto body shop that my dad owned next door, as well as our house,” I said quietly, looking out over the woods in front of us. “It was all connected on the same piece of property, and it was all gone in one fail swoop. It took a couple years to get back on our feet. It taught me a good lesson, though, and that was to always have a backup plan. Luckily, my parents had had one.”
“Well we’re all shits and giggles, now, aren’t we?” Downy laughed, swinging me down off his back.
I landed on the balls of my feet, and wrapped my hands around his large bicep.
“I want to have seven kids,” I said abruptly.
He froze and looked down at me, clearly startled with my quick change of subject. “Oh, yeah? Do you know what that does to your ass?”
I snorted. “I was an only child, and I wanted a brother or a sister like crazy. I think that would’ve helped my dad, too, if he could’ve split the overprotectiveness between two, instead of one.”
“Your dad can only do what he knows, and he told me he’s been a cop since he’s gotten out of high school. If all you ever see is ugliness, then that’s all you’ll ever expect,” Downy replied quietly.
“Downy, do you have bad dreams?” I blurted out.
He looked down at me and nodded once. “Yeah. Not about anything in particular, though. Pretty much just about the life that I’ve lived.”
Well that was a vague answer if I’d ever heard one.
“If you ever want to talk…” I left the offer hanging in the air between us, but he didn’t say anything more about the subject, so I assumed it was closed.
He came to a stop on a rise, a large ravine-type thing was down below us with a shit load of old furniture and household items in it.
“This your old dumping grounds?” I asked, amusement tinting my voice.
“Nope. That looks fairly new, though. Not any leaves or anything on it. Motherfucker.” he growled. “Looks like I’ll have to make a trip around the property line. You game?”
I nodded. “Sure, why not. What’s a little frostbite, anyway?”
He winked at my teasing. “Keep your eye out for tracks. They couldn’t have gotten all this down here without a truck.”
I nodded and we started walking once again.
My hands were planted in the light jacket’s pockets, and my head was down, studying the ground around me.
“What’s this from?” I asked, pointing to where the ground was uprooted for as far as I could see.
“Wild hogs. They’re pretty rampant around here, that’s why, in the state of Texas, they’re allowed to be hunted all year long.”