Shifting Gears (21 page)

Cass’s voice reveals her excitement.
“Has Holt found Doc C yet? And have you heard any more from that
yucky Vinnie person?”

“No, Doc’s still out there somewhere
and hopefully okay, and no, Vinnie hasn’t called again. Thank God
for that.”

Her questions remind me that I haven’t
asked Holt in a few days about his search for Doc. I look up to see
Holt walking back to the car with what looks like a lot more than
the items on my list.

“Holt’s coming back. I’ll call you
tomorrow.”

She laughs. “Okay, honey. Love you.
And remember, everything on the table, baby.” Cass, the
ever-hopeful.

I’m hanging up as the back door
squeaks open, and Holt starts shoving bag after bag into the
backseat.
A lot
more than just coffee, cereal, and
milk.

Holt sees my stare and grins. “I told
you. Energy...you need it.”

My cheeks warm with the memory. Yep,
the suitcase has confused him.

****

It’s two AM, and I’m tossing and
turning again. I’m in Holt’s bed, with Kilo sleeping peacefully at
my feet, and Holt’s back on the cramped couch. I lie there for a
while, trying to work out if he’s awake by the sound of his
breathing.

“Holt?” I finally call out.

“Yeah, babe.”

“You awake?”

“Yeah, I’m awake,” he mumbles and then
grunts as the creaking sound of the springs in the couch fill the
silence in the room.

Somehow, in the middle of the night,
in the dark, I have the courage to ask the questions I don’t during
daylight.

“Why do you bother smoking
cigarettes?” I blurt out. “I mean, it doesn’t look like you smoke
that much, and you really shouldn’t at all. It’s not good for you,
so why bother?”

Nothing. Quiet.

Then, “They relax me when I’m out of
control. Like with that shit today... But you’re right. Wanna give
me something else to help me relax?”

I suck in a breath. Still feeling
brave and totally ignoring his invitation, I ask. “Do I make you
lose control?”

“Yeah, babe, the shit you do, the shit
I can’t control, yeah.”

The air in the room suddenly becomes
heavy. I don’t want to hear anymore. My body can’t take it. He
leaves it at that, thankfully, not saying another word. I try to
get back to sleep, but it’s impossible, because my mind is
wandering, taking me back to the first night of his return to Coral
Springs. He was smoking a cigarette as we drove away that
night.

Damn.

I go from thinking of Holt losing
control because of me to Kilo’s unfortunate situation. Suddenly it
hits me smack upside the head. Of course. Why hadn’t I thought of
it before?

“Holt. Holt, you still
awake?”

Silence.

“Holt, wake up. I just thought of
something that might work for Kilo.”

Finally, he answers groggily. I hear
him mumble, “Do you ever sleep?”

I laugh under my breath. Sleeping in
his bed, knowing he’s half-naked less than five feet away...sleep
kind of stops happening.

“I think I just figured out how to
help Kilo! Do you remember me talking about my Aunt Helen, the one
in Atlanta? Well, I’m pretty sure she would love to have Kilo come
stay with her until you can, um, figure out...what to do with
him.”

I don’t know his plans, so I feel kind
of stupid as I stumble over my words.

“So what do you think? Wanna give it a
try?”

“Okay, babe, that’s good,” he mutters,
half asleep.

“Great! I’ll call her in the morning
to see if she’s okay with it and maybe we can take him up this
weekend?”

“Okay,” is all he says and then it
sounds as if he’s gone back to sleep. The relief that comes with
hopefully having solved Kilo’s loneliness relaxes me, and sleep
finds me. I doze off, dreaming of a man standing beside a beautiful
classic car, smoking a cigarette...

****

I can’t get to the phone fast enough.
I’m sure Aunt Helen is going to love my plan. “So how would like to
have some company of the four-legged variety?”

“You know me, sweetheart, always
willing to help out. What do you have in mind?”

She’s just like me: a huge heart when
it comes to animals. Back when I’d decided I was going to become a
vet, she was overjoyed, and she helped me every step of the way.
She encouraged me to go back to Coral Springs, where the only
veterinary program in our area was. She was there clapping when I
received my license to practice veterinary medicine.

“Kilo is a beaut. Sadly, he spends
most of his days cooped up in a dark and dreary motel room. I tried
to bring him to the hospital to stay with the other dogs in the
kennel but it didn’t work out. Seems he’s a loner.”

Much like his
owner.

“So who owns him? Who leaves him in
that room all day like that?”

I wish I didn’t have to tell her, but
it’s inevitable.

“He works during the day, and he’s out
a lot, so he doesn’t have a choice.”

“Is this somebody you know? Are you
doing someone a favor then?”

“Kilo belongs to Holt.”

I wait for it.

“That fella you had something with
before?”

I sneak a glance over at Holt. He’s
still sitting on the bed, reclined and watching television. I know
precisely the road this conversation is about to go down, and with
Holt in the room, I can’t say the things I need to say.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Hmm. So tell me, this man of yours,
Holt, is he coming with you?”

God, here we go. Her excitement, the
anticipation of meeting Holt, it’s in her voice.

“Aunt Helen, he’s not my—”

Shit. Holt can hear...

“Yes, he’s coming with me,” I
whisper.

“Good. Good. So you two must stay the
weekend. I’ll fix all your favorites, baby, and you can show him
around town.”

I sigh, because I know it’s pointless
to try to tell her no. I try anyway. “I’m not sure that’s such a
good idea, and it’s not like that with— I can’t answer
for...him.”

“I’d love to stay, Aunt
Helen.”

I jerk my head to Holt, who’s grinning
his ass off, though he’s still seemingly watching TV. A drag race,
by the sound of it.

She hears him, and of course that sets
her off, giggling in my ear. Good grief. I know what she’s got on
her mind. Grandbabies.

“Okay, so I’ll see you Friday night.
I’ll call you when we’re on the road. Love you.” I quickly hang up
before she can go any further.

****

Thanks to the threat of Vinnie, the
last three days bunkering down with Holt and all sixty pounds of
Kilo in the small confines of his room has taken its toll. I’m
desperate for a home-cooked meal, a decent shower, and a non-lumpy
bed.

While Holt’s in the shower, I’m
packing my bags for our drive to Atlanta. I can’t help but be
excited at knowing all those things are waiting for me there. But
knowing my dream-filled Aunt Helen is waiting…it’s going to suck
for me too. My tension builds at the thought of Holt running with
every possible encouragement Aunt Helen will throw his way. She
hasn’t even met him and only knows what little I shared with her
before, but I’m certain she’s convinced herself we’re back together
and that he’s destined to be the father of her
grandbabies.

In an attempt to avoid Holt wandering
out of the shower, wet and naked, I slip outside to put my bags in
the car. As I lift the trunk, something catches my eye in the back
corner, tucked partially under a wool blanket. I glance at the door
to see if Holt is coming outside before letting my curiosity take
over. With no sign of him, I quickly lift the blanket to find an
old beat-up guitar case. I suck in a breath as I imagine that the
guitar Holt played that night at The Rox is inside. My heart pounds
as visions of him on stage flood my mind. His voice, his words then
later his touch, his mouth...

I’d been wondering where he kept it.
There weren’t too many hiding spots in the small motel room, and
I’d given up my search. Now I know. Looks like he’s had it for a
long time. Was it his mother’s? God. Just the thought. I quickly
toss the blanket back across it and throw my bags in the trunk,
closing it before I get busted snooping.

I lean against Sex on Wheels to text
Cass. I promised her I’d let her know when we were heading out.
Even though there haven’t been any other phone calls from Vinnie
since the day I spoke to him at the hospital, we all have our guard
up, afraid he could just show up the way Holt said he
would.

Up against the fender, I’m thinking
about Doc C when the door creaks open and the two of them bustle
out. The sound of his footsteps faltering makes me lift my head,
only to see him standing there, Kilo in tow, watching me. He
doesn’t move for a moment, and I panic. Is he seeing something or
someone behind me? I slowly twist my head to look behind me.
Nothing.

When I turn back, Holt is still
standing there, but there’s a look in his eye now that makes me
shiver.

Shit.

He pulls on Kilo’s leash, and they
carry on to the car. He opens the back door, and Kilo jumps in,
wagging his tail. As Kilo sprawls out across the backseat, Holt
shuts the door and closes the distance between us. He leans in,
dropping his arm to rest on the fender next to my hip. I catch my
breath. This is the closest he’s been to me in days. I
panic.

“Babe.”

He sucks in a breath, and I stiffen as
he raises his hand and grazes my temple with a finger, slowly
tracing my jaw line, where he stops. He lingers there, and my heart
is pounding in my throat, my skin tingling from his
touch.

“Those nights without you. All I had
was my dreams, baby. Taking you up against this car was one of
them. You standing like this right now...can’t help but want to
make it a reality.”

His words penetrate me as my body
trembles with desire. “Holt—”

He pulls away from me, but trails his
fingertip low, to the center of my neck and traces it on my skin
before pulling away. “Your silence speaks volumes.”

I let out the breath I was holding and
quickly move away from him, walking around the other side to get
in.

The tension in the air is even more
apparent thanks to the silence between us as we drive to Atlanta.
The only sound is the radio in the background. Nothing new from
Holt, as he wasn’t much of a talker before. Said what he needed to
say, and that was it. I discovered that about him that very first
night...

Sitting on my barstool with Cass
beside me, I watched as he walked in our direction and tried my
best not to show the anxiety building in me. As he reached the
space next to me, he leaned against the bar and held his finger up
to get the bartender’s attention. I remember thinking right then,
my heart plummeting, I’d been mistaken. He was only coming over to
get a drink.

But then he ordered a Stella, the beer
I’d been slowly sipping on. I perked back up.

As the bartender brought it over, he
turned and handed the bottle to me. “You looked thirsty,
babe.”

That was the first time he took my
breath away.

He didn’t say anything after that. But
he didn’t move. Just stood there looking out into the crowd. Him
that close, I was a wreck. I had no clue what to say or
do.

Cass finally spoke. “I’m Cass, and
this is Niki.”

He spoke to me then, not even looking
at Cass. “Is that short for Nicole?”

“No, Nicolette. But everyone just
calls me Niki.”

The corner of his mouth rose in a grin
that was almost my undoing. “Nicolette suits you better,
babe.”

And so began our short-lived three
months of pure bliss.

****

Holt turns the radio up, jarring me
from my memories. I recognize the song that fills the air. One of
Holt’s favorites. Billy Squier’s Lonely is the Night. The music he
listens to is much like his car. Classic. A lot of Styx, Lynyrd
Skynyrd, Molly Hatchett, Allman Brothers—that’s all he listened to
before, and it seems his taste in music hasn’t changed. I lie back
and let the memories of us together like this take over. With him
and his music. In a time when I was happy, free of any self-doubt,
and in love.

It’s not a very long ride, just under
an hour, and with Holt setting his own speed limit, we’re there in
no time.

The colonial two-story farmhouse where
I spent my teenage years is set quite a distance off the road. On
the outskirts of Atlanta, it is three acres of untouched farmland—a
welcoming break from the hustle and bustle of the city. With its
row of century-old oak trees draped with Spanish moss, and its
white, weathered wooden fence lining the length of the drive, it’s
the picture of southern charm and hospitality. Perfect place for a
scared fourteen-year-old kid.