And boy did he deserve it.
My worst night had also been his worst night, and his worst night ever trumped mine a thousand-fold.
See, where I’d only been violated—and I say only because holy shit, Banks’ trouble was way worse—Banks had been shot. He’d also seen all of his siblings shot. His mother. And then he’d nearly been set on fire.
After his father had done all the shooting and killing he planned on doing, he’d set fire to the house, hoping to burn everyone and everything with him. Then, he’d shot himself while the rest of the children that’d survived being shot watched.
It was awful.
When I’d heard about it, I’d cried.
I’d cried so hard that they’d put me on even more meds than the ones I’d been on.
When I’d worked up the courage to see him, he’d been transferred to a different hospital altogether. When I’d looked for him after I’d gotten out of my psych hold, he’d been sent to parts unknown.
I hadn’t looked for him.
And, when he’d showed up years later, a completely changed man, I still hadn’t apologized to him.
“What’s the combination?” Banks asked, jolting me out of my inner thoughts.
I was glad. I hated going back to that time.
“The combination is on the back,” I said. “I always forget it, so I had to write it down.”
Banks looked at me sharply. “Can you see the pen from your house?”
I shook my head. “No. Not really. I can see one corner of it, but not the majority. That’s why when she goes missing it takes me a second to realize she’s gone.”
“You should probably get a new lock,” he suggested. “One with a key. One that can’t be opened by any random Joe that walks by the pen.”
“Who would let a donkey out?” I asked curiously. “That’s stupid.”
Banks shrugged. “I used to do a lot of dumb shit when I was a teenager. Tip cows. Dump over porta-potties. Letting a donkey out of a pen is new to me, but I wouldn’t have said no if my friends had put me up to it.”
“Oh, I know that better than most,” I found myself saying. “Remember? I was the punch line of one of those stupid jokes you and your friends thought was funny.”
Banks ground his back molars together.
I could hear them grinding, even.
“When are you going to let that go?” he asked.
I gritted my teeth. “Never.”
Because I couldn’t let it go.
Something had happened to me because he’d said yes. Something bad. Something that I still couldn’t get over.
Something that nobody, not even the man standing in front of me, knew about.
“Figures,” Banks muttered as he put Fern back into the pen. “Get a new lock.”
With that he walked away and didn’t look back.
And I watched him go, heart in my throat.
***
“What’s the point of this again?” I whined.
Mack looked over at me and grinned. “I have to take photos for the newspaper, Candy. You said you’d come with me so nobody would bother me.”
I had said that.
But I also hadn’t realized that Banks would be at the rodeo, too. Had I known, I might not have volunteered so fast.
I might’ve tried to push my best friend into inviting his wife along.
His wife that I was really good friends with, who knew almost all there was to know about Banks as both Mack and I did.
“Shit,” I sighed, looking at my booted feet.
My boots had heels. I was dressed to the nines, and I knew without a doubt that if Banks saw me, he would give me shit.
He might not actually say anything to me aloud, but he would give me a side eye and silent condemnation.
That was Banks’ way, though.
“Come on,” Mack said, grabbing hold of my hand and giving me a good yank to get me started toward the fairgrounds. “This is a big rodeo. The biggest one in East Texas. Trust me. You’ll probably not even see him.”
That was a lie, and we both knew it.
Banks was a popular man. If the newspaper was going to get anything at all tonight, it’d be a shot of Banks Valentine.
“I hear he’s riding Scooby, too,” Mack said excitedly. “That’s Codie’s bull. You remember Codie, right?”
“Yes,” I muttered darkly. “I remember her.”
Codie was Ace Valentine’s woman. She was also the owner of Scooby, the bull that had swept the rodeo circuit by storm.
Codie was pulling in the big bucks, and even though I didn’t follow the rodeo circuit all that often seeing as Banks was a big part of it, I’d still heard quite a bit about Scooby and Scooby’s owner, Codie.
The small town we lived in had hated Codie. Her mother had been ‘trash’ according to the town, and Codie had been a little firecracker when she was younger, doing things that weren’t done in Small Town Texas. When Codie had come home from Dallas, or wherever she’d been in North Texas, she’d definitely not been welcomed back. At least, not until she’d started dating Ace Valentine, and he’d let it be known far and wide that if she was hurt in any way by anybody in town, he’d deal with it.
And he had. Quite a few times.
Enough that people didn’t whisper about her behind her back any longer.
“I wonder if she’s here?” he said as he practically skipped ahead of us.
We stopped at the ticket line and purchased tickets, as well as the fairgrounds that were connected to the rodeo. From there, we moved into the arena and I immediately moved to the first food truck I saw, walking right up to the window and ordering a funnel cake.
“I can’t believe you can eat that shit and it does not go straight to your ass,” Mack said with disgust clearly in his voice.
I shrugged as I reached for the plate and smiled at the lady who’d given me extra powdered sugar like I’d asked.
“You’re the best,” I said to her.
The older woman winked and took the next person’s order.
I walked back to Mack who sighed when he saw my food.
“I made a pact with Amity,” he mumbled. “We’re going to start eating healthier. I didn’t think this through all the way.”
I grinned as I took my first bite, moaning softly when the taste hit my tongue.
“Oh, God.” I groaned. “It’s so good.”
Mack punched me lightly in the shoulder, causing powdered sugar to puff off of my plate and pepper my black tank top with it.
I sighed, not bothering to wipe it off.
“Thanks,” I muttered darkly. “That was nice.”
He grinned and gestured to the large arena where we could hear loud voices cheering.
“I think that the calf roping is on right now,” he said. “They’re moving to the bulls at eight. That gives us enough time to find the press seats and get comfortable.”
I took another large bite, spilling even more powdered sugar, and followed dutifully behind him.
We found the spots easy enough, and I took my seat with half my funnel cake left.
“I’m going to have to go to that same food truck again on the way out,” I said. “This is so good.”
“I hate you,” Mack mumbled from my side.
I reached into my oversized purse and produced my bottle of beer that I’d snuck in, then promptly twisted the top off and took a swig.
It was when I had it tilted up to my mouth and I was looking around the arena that I saw him.
He was directly below us, about twenty feet away, and he was standing on the side of the paddocks looking down into the gates that were below. That was where I could see a bull angrily bucking the metal fencing that penned him in.
But he wasn’t looking at the bull. He was staring directly at me.
I pulled the beer bottle away and looked down at my plate, all of a sudden very aware of how I looked pigging out on beer and funnel cakes.<
br />
When I looked back up, it was to still see Banks staring at me with a look of confusion in his eyes.
“Looks like someone knows you’re here,” Mack said.
I grumbled out a ‘fuck off’ and kept eating, trying to look anywhere but at Banks.
Mack laughed at my obvious discomfort, and it took everything I had not to smack him upside the head with my beer bottle.
I polished off the last bite of my funnel cake, then licked my fingers as I stood.
“I’m going to run to the potty,” I said airily. “Don’t drink my beer.”
Mack scoffed. “Like I’d drink that pussy beer.”
I grinned and started back down the bleachers, heading straight for the bathrooms.
Luckily, with Mack being in the press, he got to use the special bathrooms for the rodeo officials, press, and athletes. All the normal peons like me had to use the regular porta-potties at the entry to the fields.
Luckily, I’d snatched Mack’s press pass before I’d headed down.
Sighing happily at my use of the facilities in record time, I was smiling when I exited the bathroom. That smile quickly fell off my face when I ran into Banks, who was pinning some girl to the wall right outside the bathroom.
“Listen,” I heard him saying. “I get done tonight about…”
His voice trailed off as he looked over the girl’s shoulder and saw me standing there trying to get out of the bathroom.
Out of habit, he hooked the girl around the waist and moved her over.
I gratefully skirted around them, hoping to be anywhere but there at that moment.
I didn’t know why I was so hurt by seeing him with another girl, but I wasn’t comfortable with the feeling.
I also wasn’t sure that I wanted to be here anymore—well, more so now after I didn’t already want to be here.
Shit.
With nothing else to do, I got in line for another funnel cake and Coke, hoping to drown my sorrows in fried food.
I was rounding the corner of the food truck when I nearly dropped my food straight down Banks’ chest.
“Whoa.” He settled my food. “Sorry.”
I grumbled something under my breath and went to skirt around him, but he stopped me by hooking his finger in one of my belt loops.
And, since I loved my pants like I did, I stopped and turned, regarding him with barely concealed hostility.
“What?” I asked.
He let me go when he knew that he’d gotten my attention.
“I just wanted to say…”
The girl from the bathroom came up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pillowing her head on his perfect chest.
I gritted my teeth and stared at them like I didn’t have a care in the world.
“Yes?” I pushed impatiently. “You stopped me because…”
I knew the second that he decided that he was going to go there—back all those years ago when he broke my heart and humiliated me all at once.
“Listen, Cray-Cray,” Banks said. “I wanted to clear the air. It’s really uncomfortable running into you as much as I do now. Your hostility comes off loud and clear, and I just want you to know that I’m not the same person I was in high school. I’m sorry. I should’ve thought that day through a little better. But if I had gotten caught, I would’ve been suspended. And my dad would’ve literally kicked my ass. I couldn’t have gotten suspended.”
I hated that name with a passion.
Cray-Cray.
That was what they called me in high school. That was the name that’d been whispered in my ear when…
I viciously cut that thought off and turned my haunted eyes to Banks.
I hadn’t meant to let him see the hurt and the pain, but ‘Cray-Cray’ was the one name that really sent me into a tailspin.
“It’s fine,” I lied. “What’s done is done. I’ll let it go.”
Banks narrowed his eyes.
“Why are you being so agreeable?” he asked suddenly. “I thought for sure you were going to give me more shit.”
I might should have. I probably could have.
Had he not called me that.
Now I just had no fight left in me.
Maybe I should move?
But then my thoughts drifted to the coffee shop that I co-ran with Desi, and that thought immediately fled. I couldn’t leave. I’d just gotten everything that I’d ever wanted.
I had my shop. I had a house. I had my dreams.
I wouldn’t leave.
But I’d definitely try harder to avoid Banks Valentine.
“It’s fine,” I lied again.
It wasn’t fine, and we both knew it.
But, like he said, we were seeing quite a bit of each other lately. It would only continue to get harder and harder unless we let bygones be bygones.
“Okay,” he said, curling his arm around the young woman.
I let my eyes flicker to hers, and that was when I saw the smirk on her face.
“Cray-Cray.” She grinned. “I like it. Next time I come into the coffee shop…”
I gritted my teeth and shot Banks a scathing glare.
“Please don’t,” I said stiffly. “I almost killed myself over that nickname in high school. I definitely don’t want to be thinking of that time in my life again.”
Banks face went utterly white, and I wondered if he thought I was joking about the killing myself part.
I hadn’t been. Not really.
I could hear the repeated words of ‘Jesus, Cray-Cray, you feel so tight’ and ‘Cray-Cray, your pussy is the best thing ever’ in my head over and over again when I closed my eyes at night.
I seriously did not like that nickname.
Even more, if I continued to hear it, coffee shop or not, I was leaving.
I couldn’t handle that nickname at all.
Not and be able to function.
Without another word, I turned on my booted heels and headed back into the stands with Mack.
I ate my funnel cake. I even went back to eat a fried Oreo cheesecake stick.
I drank two more beers.
All the while, I tried to pretend like I hadn’t just let my secret slip.
I’d done a damn fine job hiding it. My father and mother were the only ones to know that I’d almost succeeded in killing myself in high school. I really didn’t want him to know what I’d done, and if I was lucky, maybe he’d think I was joking.
“You’re all doom and gloom,” Mack said as he waited for Banks to get up. “What’s wrong?”
I decided to tell the truth.
“Banks apologized for fucking my life up in high school,” I said. “He also made sure to call me Cray-Cray.”
Mack winced. “That nickname was stupid.”
It was.
“He’s up next,” Mack said. “Maybe he’ll fall off and get horned in the nuts.”
I slapped Mack across the chest. “That’s not funny.”
Mack held up his fingers just slightly apart. “It kind of was.”
I rolled my eyes.
He was right.
But seconds later, when Banks went out of the shoot on the bull’s back and nearly died when he was tossed about ten feet in the air, I wasn’t finding anything funny any longer.
Heart in my throat, I watched as the bullfighter distracted the bull long enough for Banks to get to his feet and haul ass. He made it over the fence and was swinging a leg over when I decided it was time to go.
I would’ve made it, too, had a certain husky voice not called my name.
I hesitated, unsure whether I should pretend I didn’t hear it, or go down there and find out what he wanted.
But then he called my name louder.
Mack started laughing, and I chose to flip him off and leave.
I made it all the way to the porta-potties for the common folk before I heard my name called again.
“Candy!”
I paused with my foot half in the dirt of the rodeo arena, and half on the concrete path that would lead me out of the fairgrounds.
“Yes?” I asked, turning around with a reluctance to my body that was honestly quite astounding.
I didn’t want him to see what his fall and near death had done to me.
His eyes caught mine and he studied me for a few long seconds.
He was on top of the pen that separated the crowd and the stands from the action in the arena. His shirt was dirty from his rolling on the ground, and his hat was in his hand. His hair was plastered to the side of his head, and most of it was sticking up in spikey needle-like clumps.
I wanted to bury my hands in his dark hair and never let go.
I tried to tell myself not to look past his lower belly, but I couldn’t help it.
He had on a shiny gold belt buckle that was just too sparkly for my eyes to resist.
The belt buckle had a bucking bull in the middle of it, and a rather large ‘V’ was stamped on it with silver.
I swallowed hard as I tried not to look down at what was under that belt, but in the end I couldn’t stop myself. I had zero will power. Which was why I’d already had two funnel cakes and a fried Oreo cheesecake stick.
I nearly groaned when I saw how tight his pants were. So tight that I could see that he tucked his package to the left side of his jeans. And it was quite an impressive package.
Cursing myself and my stupidity, I headed back the way I came, bypassing the entrance to the stands and heading for the side where he was leaning over the fence.
When I got there, I crossed my arms over my chest and glared.
“I found out why your donkey keeps coming to our place,” Banks said, making me drag my eyes away from his junk and to his eyes that were now sparkling with mirth.
Dammit. He’d caught me checking out his penis.
Son of a biscuit.
“Why?” I croaked.
God, I really needed to get it together.
But, the problem was, I didn’t ever have it together when it came to Banks Valentine.
“Because Fern used to live at the old man’s property that we just purchased. The fastest way to get to the old man’s property is by way of cutting straight through our land. The old man sold him to you and dropped him off, right?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I didn’t purchase him. Fern was given to me.”
Chute Yeah Page 3
