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“Why do you say that?”

“Because once I got him home, the little Goober never once came to me. He never listened to me, and he rarely obeyed. It was like his life’s mission was to tick me off.”

“Is that how he got his name?”

“Well, since there wasn’t any cussing allowed in my house, I couldn’t use the name I would have liked to call him.”

He lets out a big laugh. “You really wanted to call him Shit?”

“The name fit.” I shrugged, finally smiling.

We sit in silence. It’s not awkward, and I don’t feel as if I need to fill the void with small talk. I thoroughly enjoy his company. I wish I would have made more of an effort to get to know him. It seems like a lot of time was lost.

“How are you doing?” I finally ask.

Pursing his lips, he nods. “I’m hanging in there. Some days are harder than others, and I feel like an outcast, but it could be worse.”

“It won’t always be like this, I’m sure.” I try to reassure him.

“I’m not so sure about that. Sin holds on to shit for a long time. Look how long it took him to get over Sienna’s death or his men in his platoon. What I did was fucked up. I don’t give him any grief on how he’s treating me. I would do the same fucking thing.”

“It was scary. The whole situation was scary and could have turned out so much different.”

“Yeah, I get that–I do. But fuck, it does no one any good to constantly live in the past. He’ll forever live with one foot in the past and the other in the present.”

I totally agree. Everyone’s knows that about Sin. But this is something that he needs to get over on his own terms in his own time, and no one is going make him do it any differently. “I see what you’re saying. Words don’t really mean anything, though. You have to prove it to him with your actions. One day he’s going to forgive you.”

“I really hope so. Guilt’s a strong bitch. She’s got her claws dug so deep in me right now that I’m hoping that fucking monkey on my back doesn’t start making noise.” I look over to him, unsure of what he means. He smiles. “What I mean is that the guilt gets to be so strong sometimes that I’d like nothing more to numb it the only way I know how.”

Finally understanding what he means, I place my hand on his arm. “Drugs aren’t the answer. The devil’s strong enough today. He doesn’t need any help from that poison.”

“Jenni!” Roxy yells as she and Ryder walk down the street toward us.

“I better get going.” Bubba stands, leaving without another glance back.

Mourning the loss of a pet is excruciating. I expect to hear him bark, but I don’t. Not seeing him lying on his bed, or not eating at his bowl is extremely hard to handle. But having a child blame himself for the death is unbearable.

Ryder has been closed off for the past two weeks. He doesn’t talk, and he won’t look at me. All the progress that we’ve made since he came to live with us has been voided, and it’s like we’re back to square one. I’ve had messages from his teachers stating that he’s become withdrawn, and I can’t take it anymore. Goober’s death was an accident. If I blame anyone, it’s the idiot who was racing down the street. He’s the one who killed my dog, not Ryder.

Now, I need to make him see that.

Knocking on his door, I don’t get a response. I’ve come to find this normal, so I open it. “Hey.” He’s lying on his bed, tossing the same ball he was throwing to Goober up in the air and then catching it. “Can we talk?” I ask as I take a seat on his bed as he continues to toss the ball. “Ryder, you can’t ignore me.”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

“Well, you aren’t talking to me, that’s for sure.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to talk to me.” He catches the ball one last time, then turns his head. I can see his eyes are red. So much emotion dances across his face. His chin quivers and his nostrils flare as my heart breaks for him.

“Oh, baby.” I take his hands and pull him up. Wrapping my hands around him, I hug him tight. “I love you. I always want to talk to you. Even when you don’t want me to.”

“But I killed your dog.”

My stomach drops. Poor thing. “No, you didn’t. It was an accident. It wasn’t your fault. Never your fault. Please stop blaming yourself.” I soothe his head, rubbing my hands up and down his back as I rock.

A sob breaks from his chest as he grips me. “I’m s–sorry.” His voice is full of emotion. “So sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for, baby. Nothing at all.”