The clash of thunder sounded like a gunshot from far away. It shook me awake with a small cry. The sound of gunshots didn't bother me. At least they did not until recently. There were two gunshots that still sounded in my mind clearer than the ones I've ever shot. They were the two that affected my life more than any others.
After the first major storm we had blown through, the boys, Teaspoon and Rachel have given up trying to comfort me. They knew it was no use, as I would push them away and run to hide. Hiding is the only thing I seem to be able to do these days.
I pulled the covers up over my head, closing my eyes tight once again. I let the sound sooth the hurt away, to wash over me. I pull in a deep breath, trying to inhale what little was left of my beloved. Another day or two and it would be gone. I would have nothing left of him. Yes, I'd still have his shirts, but not his smell, his voice, his body.
It has been raining three days straight. Or is it four days? I can't seem to keep my days straight anymore. It had been five days since that fateful day...or six. Hell, I can't keep track of anything anymore. If Teaspoon hadn't given me a week off, I'd probably get lost on my runs.
As I've said before, the rain doesn't seem to bother me much. It seems to be the only constant companion that I have. Of course, I haven't give much of anyone a chance to be a companion these days. So, I'll take the rain. The rain doesn't judge me if I only get out of bed to visit the privy or take care of Lightening. The rain doesn't tell me to eat. The rain doesn't tell me that I'm sleeping too much. The rain doesn't tell me that I need to get out of the bunkhouse.
The only other thing around here that doesn't seem to judge me are my horses. I now have two. We were taught from day one that we always take care of our horses first. And even in my misery, I continue to do that on my own. But I have picked up a second horse. I now take care of his beloved horse, Katy. I refuse to let anyone else do.
When I got out to the barn, the boys seem to give me a wide birth. They leave me alone when I'm out there doing my chores. At the same time, I make sure I'm in bed before they call it a night and I lay in bed until they are out of the bunkhouse.
I like being around the boys. I know I need to be around them. But I can't stand their sorrowful looks. I know they are dealing with their own pain in their own ways. We are a family, and we will get through this together. And we will...in time. Right now I need my time to grieve. I need to grieve in my own way.
It was my fault that he's dead. I was the reason why he left this earth. I never should have came up with that stupid plan. What was I thinking? And the boys didn't stop me. They should have. They should have known better. Why didn't they stop me?
But they don't blame me. At least they don't blame me to my face.
This living without him isn't what's hurting me. What's hurting me the most is that I didn't tell him that I love—loved-him. I didn't get that chance to tell when what I was feeling all those times we were together. All those stolen moments behind the barn. Glances across from the supper table. The few quick kisses we were able share. We didn't talk about our future, about how we felt for each other.
There were times when I thought he would tell me what he was feeling. The last time was when I saw him...saw him alive. There was pain in his eyes when he saw the bruises on my face. Pain and anger, sorrow and hurt.
I only remember seeing anger in his eyes once before. It was when Boggs' man had beaten me. Back then it was a fleeting look. But that day, the day he died, there was more in his eyes. There was a fire in those blue eyes that I had never seen before. There was a look of…I don't even know what the look was. But it was there.
I didn't even have to tell him who put the bruises there. He knew. And there was nothing we could do to stop him. He wanted revenge on Lambert.
He never got the revenge he wanted. Lambert dropped Kid before he got this gun out of the holster. The bullet hit Kid right above the heart.
The second shot came just a split second after the first. From what I was told a littler later, Jimmy dropped Lambert. I'm glad he was fast enough. I was too focused on running into the street shouting Kid's name.
Kid rolled his head to look at me. A soft "Lou" came from his mouth. Then he was gone. I screamed "NO!" as tears fell down my face. One of the boys had to pull me off of him. I don't remember which one.
I don't remember much after that. We went home. There was a funeral. And the rain started. And kept going.
I shook my head, and buried my face into the pillow to catch the tears again.
We could have had a good life together. But now we'll never get that chance. And that's what hurts the most.
Thank you so much for reading! It has been many years and it's good to be back! This was based on the song What Hurts the Most by Rascal Flats. PS: I'm sorry that I had to kill Kid off.