The Gamble (Colorado Mountain 1)

“You don’t have to talk about this,” I told him quietly.

“Yeah, I do.”

I swallowed again and my hand went to rest on his at my belly.

“It took awhile for me to understand that,” he told me. “About ten years. I figured it out just over a week ago during a snowstorm.”

Oh. My. God.

“Max,” I breathed and his hand slid along my belly to my side, he carefully pulled me to his body and leaned in.

“Harry doesn’t know dick,” Max informed me, his voice soft but slightly harsh. “He lost Bitsy and I don’t know why, I don’t care, it’s got nothin’ to do with me. It’s his problem, he didn’t fight to keep her and everyone knows he didn’t. He just gave up and let Curt win. His story is different than mine. He gave up and had to live with his decision, Bitsy in the same town makin’ her life with another man. I lost Anna because Curt was bein’ Curt, it was outta my hands. He and I had our fallin’ out but Anna and Bitsy were tight. They tied one on at The Dog, Curt was designated driver, went to get them, take them home. About three weeks ago was the anniversary of it all, Spring Break, kids in town, doin’ stupid shit, gettin’ drunk like they always do. They f**ked with Curt, shoutin’ things out their car windows at him and he had a short fuse. He lost his temper, thought he’d teach ‘em a lesson, decided to f**k with ‘em back, did it and lost control of the car. The kids swerved into a ditch, they were okay, goin’ fast, shaken up but only minor injuries. Curt’s SUV rolled four times and only stopped when it slammed into a tree.”

“Oh my God,” I whispered, turning slightly toward him, my hand automatically moving to rest at his waist.

“Yeah,” Max grunted. “Worse, there was a factory recall on the SUV Curt had. Somethin’ wrong with the back passenger side seatbelt. Curt didn’t bother takin’ it in to get it fixed. Anna’s seatbelt snapped and when the truck rolled, she flew all over the inside of the cab, broke her neck.”

At that, I rolled totally into him and wrapped my arm around his waist, whispering, “Max.”

“Not a mark on her,” Max whispered back but his eyes had drifted away. Even though they were still on me, I knew he couldn’t see me. He was seeing something else, something acutely painful. I knew it because it was etched in his face and witnessing it, I wished I had the power to put my hand there and absorb the pain.

But I didn’t have that power, no one did. So I just gave his waist a squeeze and Max went on.

“When I saw her at the funeral home, no joke, she looked like she was sleepin’.”

I wanted him to stop talking but I didn’t request that, I just pressed closer and tightened my arm around him.

Max was still back there, I could tell by the look on his face and the words he said next. “Wanted to kill him. Christ, I was blinded by the urge, couldn’t think of anything else. Not only did he kill her, actin’ like an ass**le, but he did it because he was a lazy son of a bitch, not takin’ his car in to be fixed and he was careless, didn’t even warn her to sit behind him.” Max’s eyes focused on me but they were still far away when he said, “You know, I woulda taken her like Bitsy, in a chair, been happy with that for the rest of my life.”

I knew that. I definitely knew.

My hand moved from his waist to wrap my fingers around his neck and I whispered, “I know.”

“He had Bitsy, alive and breathin’, broken but still around to laugh, to talk, to share his bed. Fuck, he never got how f**kin’ lucky he was, comin’ outta that crash. Not that he didn’t get hurt, but that he didn’t lose Bitsy.”

I stroked his jaw and stayed silent.

“It was Curt’s negligence that he didn’t take it in when the factory informed him of the recall. George told me I had a case but I let it go. Money wouldn’t help but money meant everything to Curt so he didn’t get that. He sent Trev to offer me a settlement, didn’t want me suin’ him, the ass**le.” Max shook his head. “Christ, he was such a dick.”

Yes, he definitely was.

Max carried on, “Anna had life insurance, got the payoff, never touched it. Not when I was buildin’ the house, never. Touchin’ it, usin’ it, felt like givin’ in.”

“Giving in?” I asked, confused.

Max focused on me again. “To her bein’ dead, makin’ it more final.”

“Death is pretty final, darling,” I said softly but carefully.

His face changed, a wave of that pain sliding through it, his head dropped so his forehead was resting against mine and he muttered, “Yeah.”

Still cautious, I guessed, “He mentioned her in his letter.”

Max lifted his head and nodded and I knew that was why the other Max came out that day, why Bitsy told me to take care of him, because, bottom line, Curt was being a jerk.

“What’d he say?” I asked, my thumb still stroking his jaw.

“Told me he was sorry. Told me he loved Anna and it ate at him, what he did to her. I’m sure that made him feel better, writin’ that out, makin’ him feel like a better man, admittin’ to that. What he didn’t get was what that shit would make me feel, how no apology could change the decisions he made leadin’ up to what happened that night. Nothin’ could change the fact that his wife and my wife were in his car when he acted like Curt, not thinkin’ that two precious souls were with him and the first thing that should be on his f**kin’ mind was gettin’ them home safe. Not pissin’ in his corner, provin’ to a bunch of kids who’s the bigger man.”

As usual, Max was right.

“The f**k of it is, he was writin’ that letter at the same time he was f**kin’ around on Bitsy with Shauna, God knows why, no excuse for it. And writin’ that letter knowin’ that his life was in danger, as was hers, and he was dickin’ around with a PI and not gettin’ the cops involved. He was writin’ that letter apologizin’ for his stupid, f**ked up decisions ten years ago at the same time still f**kin’ makin’ ‘em.”

Again, Max was right.

And something else Max was and it was clear as day, absolutely obvious.

He was not over his dead wife.

This hurt, worse than a kick in the ribs, a punch in the face but I didn’t let that show. Not that Max, in his current state of mind, would notice. He was far away, still reliving a nightmare.