He wanted Jake in his life and always had. He’d come back for the man, after all. Maya…she was a surprise. He’d thought that one of his options coming home would have been to stand back and be Jake’s friend so Maya and Jake could be together, and yet that hadn’t happened. She’d opened herself to him, and he knew he needed to figure out a way to keep that precious gift safe. She might act as if she had control of everything in her life, but he knew that with one mistake, she could break. He refused to be the reason for that.
He wanted both Maya and Jake in his life and his future, but he wasn’t sure that could happen. The Montgomerys and Gallaghers might be fine with the three of them being in a relationship, but not everyone would understand. What would they do when they had a kid? What would happen to that kid’s life? To the three of them, once there was another life added to the mix? How would things work out legally? Emotionally?
Relationships were hard as fuck, and yet adding a third made it exponentially harder. He wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to be the one to back away when the time was right, but he also knew he would be the one who had to. The other two had roots here. The only person he had was Jake…and now Maya.
He sighed and gripped the steering wheel harder at the thought of leaving them, of leaving everything they’d just begun to build. But maybe it would be the best for everyone? If he left, he’d be able to protect them better. Protect their bodies and their hearts.
He could do that, he thought. If he worked hard at it, he could leave and never look back. Again.
Only this time, there would be no letters, no phone calls with Jake. Because he wasn’t the kind of man who could find that strength a second time. If things got too tough, too much, he’d leave. Not for him, but for them. They deserved more than the angst and pain of whatever they had. They were his reason to live, his reason to fight, and that was why, if the time came and they couldn’t work it out between the three of them, he would make sure they were the ones to find their happiness. They deserved far more than him, and he was okay with that knowledge. He’d find a way to survive, find a way to live the life he’d always led; just without the danger lurking around every corner. He’d done it for years, and he’d do it again. For them.
The vehicle lurched to the side of the road, glass shattering, metal twisting. The unholy sound of another car slamming into the driver’s side of his truck filled his ears. He kept his grip on the steering wheel, even as his body slammed against his seatbelt. He tried to steer into the momentum, but this was no skid, and he had no control. In what felt like hours, his truck skidded off the road, slamming into the embankment. Whatever had hit him backed up, and Border did his best to blink out the dizziness threatening to overcome him. He hadn’t hit his head, so he didn’t think it was a concussion, but getting slammed into by another car or truck wasn’t good for his body. Or his damn truck.
He swallowed hard and took in the damage. His driver side window had shattered, and his door was bent in, but other than that, there wasn’t much wrong inside the cab. For all he knew, it was way worse on the outside, but for now, what he could see would have to be enough. He had a few cuts on his arms from flying glass, and wouldn’t be surprised if the same could be said of his face. He also knew he’d be bruised as all hell once he got out of the damn truck.
He’d been alone on the back road since he’d opted not to take the highway back up to Denver, and apparently, that had been a terrible fucking idea. He couldn’t open the driver’s side door, but he could scoot over and get out on the other side. Only when he was about to, he had to duck from the spray of bullets hitting his fucking truck.
Well, hell. It seemed this wasn’t an accident at all. He stayed down as low as he could, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could get even lower. He had his gun in the glove box since that was where he was allowed to have it in this state, but it was too damn far for him to reach. He’d just have to hope the other guy would get tired and leave.
Border didn’t think that likely, however.
He lay there in silence, cursing himself for not having a weapon close by. His truck was done for, and if these guys let him live, he’d have to pray the damn thing had enough in it to get him home.
Or he could call Sanchez.
Hell, he needed to call Sanchez anyway. Their position had been compromised yet again.
Jesus Christ, the girl. He couldn’t let her get hurt, couldn’t let Jake and Maya get hurt. This couldn’t happen again, damn it. He couldn’t lose someone he was charged with protecting.
He was just about to reach for the glove box, bullets be damned, when the sound of a revving engine echoed in his ears and whoever had hit him drove off. Border sighed and got his gun, doing his best not to hurt himself even more when he sat up.
Armed and ready, he took stock of the situation and cursed yet again. He was out in the hill country, alone and in fucking bad shape. It could have been worse, he knew, but it would be a damn long walk for help.