The Wild Ones (26 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT- Trick

“Are you sure this is what you wanna do, man?” Rusty asks.

I give his question some serious thought. I’ve asked myself the same thing a dozen times in the last week.  But I always come to the same conclusion.  “I have to.  Besides, it doesn’t mean what it used to.”

“Whatever mistakes your dad made, this was still something good you two had together.  He wanted you to have this car.  And your mom wanted you to keep it.  If you let it go, that’s it.”

I nod. “I know.  But it just doesn’t make sense to hold onto something like this when getting rid of it could make things so much easier.”

“Dude, you make it sound like holding on to something you love is a bad thing.”

“Sometimes it is.”

“Are we still talking about the car?”

My eyes snap up to Rusty’s sharp blue ones.  He’s so laid back, so devil-may-care, I forget there’s a really smart, perceptive, occasionally wise guy in there.

“I think so.”

“Don’t you think you ought to give it one more shot?”

“Rus, we need the money.  This car can fix almost all my problems and help me get started in a business that can give Grace and Mom the stability they’ve needed since before Dad.  I have to do it.”

“I wasn’t talking about the car.”

“Oh,” I say, deadpan.  “She hates me.  And I don’t blame her.  I shouldn’t have told her.  But it’s done.  If she wants me, she knows where to find me.  I’m respecting her decision by staying away.  I’ve hurt her enough.”

“Does she know you love her?”

“What makes you think I love her?”

Rusty just looks at me.  At first, he doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to.

“You and Cami are the only two who
don’t
know you’re in love with her.  And she’s in love with you.  If you let stupid shit your parents did a hundred freakin’ years ago come between you
now,
you both deserve to die alone.  That’s just idiotic.”

I stare at him.  He’s right of course.  But it’s not my decision to make. It’s Cami’s.

“Damn, Rus.  Why don’t you just let it out?  Be honest and tell me the truth about how you feel?”

He grins.  “I feel like the inmates are running the prison these days, Trick.  You haven’t been right since you met that girl.  At least you were still okay, though.  But now…this is crazy. Just go get her and get it over with.”

“I can’t do that.  It’s because I care about her that I’m leaving it up to her.  She has to be willing to let it go, too.  We’ll never be able to have anything if either of us is living in the past, holding on to all that trash.”

He shrugs. “Your loss, man. I still think you’re stupid.  Women love that grand gesture crap.  You’ve seen enough movies to know.”

“Because movies are definitely what men should use as their romantic decision-making paradigm.”

“Decision-what-a-what?”

“Drop the act.  You forget I
know you. 
I know you’re more than just a dumb grease monkey.”

Rusty smiles.

“You’re a
crazy, delusional
dumb grease monkey,” I add.

“Awww, that’s just wrong.”

He feints left and punches me in the right shoulder.  “Wanna go a couple rounds? You know, like we used to before you went and got yourself whipped?”

“I’m not whipped.”

“Well, whatever you call it.  What do you say?  Got a brand new bottle of Patron, all wrapped up and waiting for just such an occasion.”

“Nah.  I don’t really feel much like drinking.”

Rusty straightens.  “Dude!  Since when?  You’ve been partying less and less since you met her.  Does she have your balls, too?”

Rusty’s right.  The urge to drown my troubles has been present much less often since I met Cami.  Just another good thing about her that I’ll be left to mourn.

“Shut up!  You remember what happened last time we threw down in here, right?”

The last time we rough-housed in his garage, we’d knocked over two tool chests, busted the hose to his air compressor, dented a metal cabinet, spilled an oil pan then sat in the pit and drained a fifth of Patron.

“I’ll take my chances, because this time, I’m gonna kick your ass.  No more Mr. Niceguy.”

“Bring it, monkey boy.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE- Cami

Like I have every morning for three weeks, I get up first thing and go to the window to look down at the stable.  And just like every morning for the past three weeks, today there is no sign of Trick.  There never is.

When are you gonna get it through your thick head that he’s gone and he’s not coming back?

My chest hurts.  Just saying those words to myself makes me feel like something inside me is shriveling up and dying.  Deep down, I know I’ll never find someone like Trick.  I think I had my suspicions at the time, but I didn’t really delve into them too much because it seemed too soon.  But now, now I know that Trick was
the one. 
He still
is
the one.  He always will be. 

But he’s gone.  So where does that leave me?

Jenna has called me at least twice every day.  She’s been trying anything and everything to get me out of the house, but I’m just not interested.  The only thing I want is the only thing I can’t have, so what’s the point? 

I watch Sooty take Highland Runner from the stable.  He strokes his neck and talks to him as he moves toward his flank, toward the stirrup.  Trick said Sooty had ridden Runner after he got back, but I haven’t seen it.  He swore he’d made all the necessary progress with the horse, progress that would make him a winner.  Even then, I believed him, especially after seeing him with Rags.  I believed him when no one else did.

Carefully, cautiously, Sooty swings up into the saddle then sits perfectly still and straight, I guess still hesitant, still waiting on Runner to freak out.  But he doesn’t.  He shifts his weight from foot to foot, anxious for a run, but his ears show no signs of upset.

I see Sooty’s foot tap lightly against the powerful horse’s side and they take off across the field, toward the gate. It makes my heart hurt to watch them.  Trick was right.  He was right about Runner.  And he was right about being born to do this.

But now I’ll never get to see him work miracles with wild horses.

Hot tears burn wet streaks down my cheeks. I blew it.  I blew my one chance at true happiness.  And now I’m left to pick up the pieces of the future I thought I’d had all mapped out and make some kind of workable existence from them.  I have no other choice.

I get dressed and head downstairs, bypassing the kitchen and going straight to my father’s office.  It’s empty, but I don’t let that stop me.  I’ll hunt him down if I have to.  I’m going to throw myself into the business and the horses.  I’m going to put love and Trick as far from my mind every single day as I possibly can, for as long as I can.  And then, when I can’t do it anymore…well, I’ll worry about that when the time comes.

I search the entire house for Daddy, but he’s nowhere to be found. As I pass the kitchen for the second time, Drogheda stops me.

“What are you doing, Cami?”

“Looking for my father.  Have you seen him?”

“He’s out in the garage.”

“Oh.”  The only one of two places I haven’t checked yet.  “Thanks, Drogheda.”

With every step I take toward the huge garage, I am more determined to build a life around work rather than love.  It’s when I round the corner and see what my father’s working on that I realize such a feat will probably never be entirely possible.  Trick will haunt me, in some way, for the rest of my life.  I’ll never be able to escape the longing I feel for him, never be able to escape the way my heart reacts to anything that reminds me of him. 

I stop and quietly watch as Daddy drags a polishing rag across the top of the Mustang.  It’s a Boss 429 in gunmetal gray with a wide black stripe up the center of the hood.  I’d recognize it anywhere, partly because it’s so rare and partly because it’s Trick’s.  At least it used to be.

I feel like someone has knocked the breath out of me.  My chest feels tight and achy with an incredible loss.  Seeing Trick’s car here, without Trick, is like suffering a small death. 

“Where did you get that?”

“I bought it,” he answers, not even looking up from the tiny circles he’s making on the hood of the car.

“And here I thought you stole it,” I snap.  “You know what I mean, Dad.”

There it is again—Dad. 

“You know I always keep my eye out for classics.  When a car like this goes on the market, everyone hears.”

“Does he know you bought it?”

That gets his attention.  He straightens and looks me dead in the eye.  “No.”

I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not, or what my father’s motives were.  Maybe he just wanted the car.  Well, I’m sure he did, actually.  I know that much about him.  But did it have anything to do with Trick and his family, about the guilt Daddy feels over what happened?  I’ll probably never know.  Obviously, transparency isn’t a top priority in my family.  Neither is honesty.

“How much did you pay for it?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Yes, it is.  You said I could be a part of this operation.  Well, the finances are a part of it.”

“This purchase wasn’t part of the business.  It’s a personal purchase.”

“Daddy, please tell me. I need to know that they’ll be okay.”

His expression softens.  “They’ll be fine, Cami.  For a long, long time.”

I nod, looking down at my fidgeting fingers.  “Will he, um, will he have enough to maybe get started with a horse or two?  And stall space somewhere?”

He doesn’t answer at first.  I hear scuffling, but I don’t dare look up. I don’t want him to see in my eyes how much his answer matters to me.

When I see his feet and feel his hands on my upper arms, I still don’t look up.  I feel my chin tremble and my vision blurs.  I blink quickly to clear away the tears.

“Sweetheart, he’ll be fine.  But he’ll be better off without you and you’ll be better off without him.  He’s not right for you.  I know you can’t see that now, but you will.  Eventually.”

Obviously, there’s no reason to try and hide it from him anymore. He knows.

My eyes swing up to his.  “How long have you known?”

“What am I, blind?  Come on, Cami, do you really think I’m that stupid?”

“Daddy, why do you think he’s not good enough?  Why can’t you see that he makes me happy?”

“Is he making you happy now?”

“That’s not fair.  He—”

“I don’t want you getting mixed up with anyone from that family.”

“Is it because of Mom?”

“It’s because he can never give you the life and the security and the fidelity you deserve.”

“You can’t hold his father’s sins against him.  Trick’s not like that.”

“And how do you know that?”

“I just know, Daddy.”

“No, you don’t.  You can’t.”

I search his eyes.  They are hard.  Unyielding.  Unforgiving. 

“No, you’re right.  No one can know for sure.  I’m sure you never expected Mom to do what she did.  But some things are worth taking a chance on, Daddy, and Trick’s one of them.”

“Then where is he?”

And just like that, I’m crushed once again under the devastating weight of reality.

CHAPTER FORTY- Trick

I can hear the knocks in the transmission as I hit the gas pedal in the truck.  I knew I’d need something to pull a trailer, but I didn’t want to shell out a bunch of cash for something nice at this point, so I bought a used truck that Rusty’s going to help me fix up.   I just hope it’ll hold together until then.

I probably shouldn’t be bringing it out for trips like this. I probably shouldn’t be making trips like this at all.  It’s not like I can really afford to unload so much for land right now anyway.  But I like to look.  It makes me feel a little more in control and a lot more optimistic.  The only bad part is that I always picture a house where Cami and I will be living, one that will someday hold a couple kids and a dog.  And who knows what else.  Being the animal lover she is, Cami would probably be bringing home strays all the time.

The thought makes me smile.

But then I push it out of my head. There’s no point in thinking about a future with her.  She’s made her choice.  She hasn’t tried to contact me at all.  And as much as I want to go see her, I know I can’t. I shouldn’t.  I won’t.  I have to respect her decision, no matter how much I hate it and how stupid I think she’s being.  Maybe what it all boils down to is that she didn’t love me after all.  Maybe she was just drunk and pulling one of those I-love-you-man kind of things. 

I can still remember her face, though, and it didn’t seem like the drink talking.  She seemed sincere.  It
felt
sincere.  But maybe that’s just because I wanted it to be sincere.  Granted, at the time it freaked me out a little. It seemed too soon and too scary, especially when I was still under the idiotic impression that my attraction to her might be purely physical.