Battle

by KJ Bell

  “Yes,” I respond without moving.

  “Rachel’s Coop’s girlfriend.”

  I smile, feeling instantly relieved and roll over. “The complicated one?” I ask, peering up at him from my pillow.

  “That’s putting it mildly,” he laughs. Those two go together like blondes and brains.” I pinch him and he squirms away, adding, “No offense.”

  “Cooper with other girls might be the real problem.”

  “Ah, let me tell ya, Rachel’s no saint, either.”

  “It’s complicated,” we say at the same time and laugh.

  Battle and I mill around the bedroom getting ready, mostly to kill time until we hear voices, in an attempt to open the door without forever being scarred by the image of Marty and Austin doing what we heard last night. Thankfully, they’re both clothed when we exit our room. Marty’s made a huge breakfast and coffee.

  I pour a cup, peeking at her from the corner of my eye. The smile stretching her face shows blissful satisfaction, but it fades quickly when Battle teases her about checking her ass for palm prints.

  She glares at him, with a sly curl of her lips. “Envious, McCoy?”

  Battle laughs without answering. I sip my coffee, wondering. Is he envious? Does he want a woman who likes spankings? Do I like spankings? I shake the thoughts from my head. I’m being ridiculous. Battle and I aren’t even kissing, let alone engaging in any physical activities that would lead to spankings. I blush. Oh, my God. I think I might like it if he spanked me.

  I’m mid sip when I hear a female giggle before I see the brunette that was all over Cooper last night. She lightly stumbles into the kitchen wearing one of Cooper’s t-shirts, and her boots. Mascara stains her eyes like a raccoon. Her hair looks as though a bird moved in. She hugs a ball of clothes to her chest. Without making eye contact, she glances around, and her skin flushes.

  “The walk of shame is that way, darlin’,” Austin says, pointing to the door. Everyone laughs, except for me. As desperate as I thought she was last night, she looks down-right pitiful this morning. I felt that “walk of shame” the morning after I slept with Battle, and I remember the humiliation. The difference is at least Battle had enough integrity to take me home. Well, technically I took him home, but he treated me with decency.

  “Wait here,” I tell her, right before she opens the door. She turns around. “What’s your name?”

  “Katie,” she says quietly.

  Her lip quivers and as I look her over, I realize she’s probably barely legal. I turn my head to Marty. “Can you please get Katie a cup of coffee?”

  “Sure.” Marty smiles and hops up from the table. “How do you like your coffee, Katie?”

  I storm into Cooper’s room. He’s passed out flat on his belly but thankfully covered with a sheet. “Cooper McGraw, you get your whorin’ ass up!”

  He groans, burying his head in the mattress. “Quit fuckin’ yellin’,” he grumbles.

  “I know your mama taught you better than this,” I scream to punish him. “You get your ass out of bed and have the decency to walk this girl to her car.”

  “She’s fine. I gave her a shirt. Now let me sleep.”

  I slam his door and go back to the kitchen. No one speaks as I make my way to the cabinet and retrieve a pitcher. I fill it with ice and water.

  “Oh, shit,” Austin snickers. “You gonna stop her?” he asks Battle.

  “Nope,” Battle answers with an amused laugh.

  When I open the door, Cooper growls at me. “Go away and lock that door on your way out.”

  “You have three seconds to get up,” I say, holding the pitcher above him. He stares up at me with one eye and laughs without making a move to get out of bed. “Three … Two …” Still no effort, and … “One.”

  I tilt the pitcher, dousing him in ice cold water. He leaps out of the bed, thankfully in boxers, and screams, “You crazy broad. What the fuck?”

  “I warned ya it was comin’.”

  “You sure did, darlin’.” His deep chuckle tells me he’s more entertained than upset. “You know payback’s a bitch, right?”

  “Try if you want, cowboy.” I’ll worry about his threat later. “Now get your country ass dressed. Be a gentleman and walk this young lady, whom I assume you enjoyed tremendously last night, to her goddam car.”

  He grins. “Yes ma’am.”

  All eyes are on me as I cross the kitchen to Katie. “Cooper will be right out to walk you to your car.”

  She thanks me. I want to get all motherly and give her advice about self-respect and being careful about her choices. But who am I to judge? I haven’t always made the best choices.

  “Your girlfriend scares me,” Cooper says to Battle as he strolls into the kitchen. I smile internally when Battle doesn’t correct him about our status. “All right, sugar tits, let’s go.” He snaps his fingers at Katie. She giggles.

  My mouth opens but words fail me. So much for alleviating her shame. Once they leave, I curse under my breath about what a dog he is as I sit next to Battle at the table. “Why did I even bother?”

  “Remind me not to get on your bad side,” Austin says, and kisses the top of Marty’s head before excusing himself to the shower.

  “You tried.” Marty shrugs. “Glad I didn’t make that mistake.”

  I remember the night I met Battle. Cooper spent half the night groping Marty, and the next day the girls told me how JT insisted on taking them home after I left with Battle. It also dawns on me that Battle had been texting JT.

  “I think you can thank Battle for that,” I say, shooting him a sideways glance.

  Battle goes on to explain that I’m correct. The night we met, Cooper had a fight with Rachel and was full of piss and vinegar. After we left Dakota’s, he’d sent JT a text telling him to make sure Marty made it home without Cooper.

  When I ask him why, he tells us Rachel was waiting in the parking lot. Apparently Rachel’s been known to follow Cooper to women’s homes and cause a scene. Marty thanks Battle for looking out for her.

  Battle chuckles and says, “It was for purely selfish reasons. I didn’t want you callin’ Faye away from me.”

  “Whatever your reason was, I’m grateful,” Marty says, smiling brightly as Austin comes back into the kitchen. She’s got it bad for Austin. I truly hope it works out for them.

  The afternoon and evening rounds go well for Battle. He’s in the lead by two points over Austin. JT and Cooper also placed high enough for tomorrow’s finals. Scooter didn’t make time on either bull.

  Tucker performed fair in his first ride, but was eliminated in the afternoon, although he was thrilled to have done as well as he did, considering how long he’s been out of the sport. He joins Battle and I for dinner. All of the hostility I felt when I met him yesterday has vanished. The two of them catch up, which is mostly Tucker sharing stories about his little boy, Ryder. He’s obviously a doting father, and none of us bring up the elephant in the room. How he and Stacy will work out what happened, is between them.

  A taxi drops us at the front gate. The party on the lot tonight makes last night’s look tame. There’s a band playing on a make-shift stage with a large crowd line dancing in front. The number of people has doubled, as has the number of groupies out to achieve some ride-a-cowboy fantasy.

  A large crowd congregates around our site, although I can’t see exactly what holds their attention. As, we get closer, I hear Battle yell, “Shit!”

  His strides increase until he’s jogging. I follow him as he pushes through the crowd. Cooper comes into view, pressed against the metal wall of the motorhome. He lifts his arm, dodging blows from a woman with waist length blonde hair. She screams in his face, and he keeps yelling at her to go home.

  Rachel, I assume.

  Battle lifts her up, pulling her away, but she fights him. He sets her on her feet, blocking her way. She glares at him, breathing erratically.

  “Calm down, Rach,” he says firmly.

  “Fuck you, Battle
!” she shouts. I feel a need to go defend him, but as I step forward, a hand grabs my arm.

  “Better stay outta that one,” Tucker drawls. “That girl’s crazier than a shit house rat.” He laughs. “Some things never change.”

  Is he kidding? Never change. Tuck hasn’t been around in well over a year.

  Rachel tries to move past Battle, but he side-steps her. She yells over his shoulder to Cooper. “I come all this way to surprise ya and find you with this whore.” She points her finger, my eyes finding Katie on the end of it, cowering on the side of the motorhome. Rachel yanks on her finger. She holds a ring in the air. “So much for your promises. We ain’t gettin’ married. Things ain’t any different, Coop. You ain’t changed a bit, and I’m done puttin’ up with your shit!”

  She chucks the ring at him. It tinks off the wall of the motorhome. He doesn’t so much as flinch. “Good. Go on! Get outta here.” Cooper pushes off the wall, “Damn woman ain’t been nothin’ but trouble since the day we met,” he mumbles and goes inside the motorhome.

  The crowd disperses and Battle walks Rachel to her car. I sit at the table and text Marty and Ginger to see where they are, but they don’t reply. Tucker goes inside to check on Cooper, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.

  I can’t help but wonder if these trips are always packed with drama. I’ve never witnessed anything close to what happened with Cooper and Rachel.

  As groupies work the crowd, desperate to garner one night of attention, insecurity sneaks its way into my mind. Am I destined to end up like Rachel, or even Stacy, if I continue whatever this is with Battle? How long can a man be faithful when he’s constantly tempted by women promising silence for one night with him?

  Grammy would say, “A man truly in love could never be swayed,” but I’m not sure Battle can ever love at all, let alone with certainty.

  “I see your mind workin’.” Battle interrupts my thoughts.

  I shrug, averting my eyes to the fire at the site diagonal from us. The orange and magenta flames dance in the night with wild passion, much in the way the man examining me lives his life. I don’t think I can ever keep up with him, or give him enough to sustain his desires. He told me his blood is hot, and he has no intention of changing. We don’t have a commitment. I’m not sure I can be at home while he’s on the road when I’ve seen what’s available for him. I’d lose my mind. Jealousy would stalk me in my sleep. Before long, I’d end up as crazy as Rachel.

  “You gonna talk to me, or you gonna keep ignorin’ what you’re feelin’?”

  He pulls a chair up and sits in front of me. His infectious blue eyes look cloudy and grey in the night. I smile, unable to pull my gaze away, though I want to, because I’m afraid he can see everything I want to hide.

  “I don’t know what I’m feelin’,” I admit.

  “I think I do,” he says with confidence, leaning forward and caressing my cheek in his hand. I hold it against my face, allowing the warmth of his touch to seep into my skin and spread throughout my body. I swallow, feeling wetness in my eyes, although I don’t understand why. I’m not sad. I smile at him, feeling my doubts slipping away when he returns the smile. “I ain’t Coop. I’m not out here hookin’ up with all these girls.”

  A tear slips, burning my skin as it falls and reminding me that I’m already in too deep with Battle to walk away unscathed. “It isn’t only the girls that bothers me. I thought I could do this middle thing, but I don’t actually know what that means.”

  With my face still pressed to his hand, he strokes my cheekbone with his thumb. “It means I get to laugh with you, and find out everything that’s in your heart, and how that beautiful mind works. It means I have to be braver than I’ve ever been if I want to keep you, and share things I don’t like talkin’ about. It means I hurt when you hurt, so please stop cryin’.” I pull back, drying my eyes. My chest heaves, bringing more tears. Only these tears are happy as I absorb his words, realizing how desperately I needed to hear them. “It means I don’t wanna see anyone else.” He leans back in the chair, but maintains my gaze.

  I wipe my eyes, sniffling. “You don’t?”

  “No. Jesus, Faye, is that what you’ve been thinkin’?”

  “I didn’t know where we stood,” I admit, lifting my shoulders. “The middle is kinda vague.”

  “Well, it ain’t for me,” he drawls as he leans forward. With one hand, he squeezes my cheeks. “I don’t share my woman.”

  I laugh and push his hand away. As sexist as his caveman-like comment is, my confidence soars.

  I’m his woman.

  “Bat—tle … Bat—tle … Bat—tle.”

  Thousands of adoring fans chant his name, but they don’t know Battle. I think back to what he told me the night we met, about him being insignificant. I remember telling him he was wrong because so many people worship him. I won’t say he was right. In the big vast universe he speaks of, maybe we are insignificant, but it’s only the small universe we create around us that counts. And to me, and his friends who he’s fiercely loyal to, he matters.

  He pulled the unluckiest draw of the night, and needs a score of ninety-four to beat Austin and win the rodeo. Riding Suit of Armor will boast a large score if he can last eight seconds, but so far, no rider has tamed the young bull. He winks before signaling to his crew that he’s ready.

  Marty and Ginger cheer him on as Suit of Armor bolts from the shoot. The bull screeches to an immediate halt and heaves his ass in the air, launching Battle forward. When Battle comes down, he slips to the side, losing his position on the bull as well as his control.

  Suit of Armor bucks wildly, flinging Battle around as easily as a piece of paper. I notice his hand caught up in the rope and scream. As help arrives, I pray for things not to end badly. I clutch my chest, waiting what feels like minutes, although in real time, only seconds pass. He’s freed and falls to the ground, only to be horned in the ribs before the bull is drawn away.

  I try not to panic as he lays still. I’ve seen riders fall. Hell, I’ve seen Battle fall, but that was before he was significant to me. Before I had a reason to be afraid for him. I’m frozen against the steel railing, not entirely sure I’m breathing as I silently yell, “Get up,” over and over.

  He rises to his feet, although slowly, and I nearly collapse. The crowd roars to life as Battle removes his helmet to wave his gratitude. His eyes find me in the crowd, blowing a kiss my way. I blow one back as he exits the arena. The announcer says, “Ladies, I hate to break it to you, but it seems Battle McCoy is spoken for.”

  I hear a female voice behind me say, “That’s why he fell.” She laughs. “Got a girl distractin’ him.”

  I spin, deciding if I want to waste my time on this woman, when Marty steps in front of me.

  “Ignore her. She’s nothing but a nasty, jealous twat,” she says, loud enough for the woman to hear.

  “What did you say?” the woman asks.

  Marty turns her head. “You heard me, greenie.”

  I laugh.

  The woman makes a face. Obviously she’s never heard the term green with envy. “Oh, you got me,” she says, giggling with her friends.

  We walk away from our seats, while the woman continues yelling how Battle being with me is a distraction. Marty tells me again to ignore her. I want too, but I also consider she has a point. I don’t want to think about it, and I don’t want to take away from Marty’s happiness. Austin won the event, and she should be celebrating.

  She gets her chance when Austin exits the arena. He holds his hands high in the air shouting, “Who’s the man?” Everyone screams their congratulations. Marty squeals and runs to him, jumping in his arms and showering him with kisses. He kisses her back, calling her his good luck charm. I’m happy for Austin. He had a stellar weekend. I’m even happier for my friend, who I’m pretty certain is in love.

  The group mingles nearby talking as I pace off to the side, worrying about how Battle’s taking the loss. He’s lost before, but I’ve never se
en it with my own eyes. I have no idea what to expect. This morning, he felt confident this was his event to win. He flashes me a gorgeous smile as he and Tucker exit the arena, easing my concerns. I go to him. His arms snake around my waist, drawing our bodies together as his lips graze my cheek.

  “You feel so good,” he breathes in my ear, before pulling back to look at me.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, curious of a few things—the loss, falling, and if he’s injured.

  “I ain’t hurt, just a bruise. It’ll heal.”

  Before I can ask about the loss, Austin approaches him. Battle hoists his friend in the air in a hug and sets him down.

  “Congratulations you little shit. You finally beat me.” Battle’s hand lands on Austin’s shoulder. “I’m proud of ya, bro. That was some fine ridin’.”

  “Shit. I think Faye’s turnin’ you into a pussy,” Austin says and turns his head, but I catch him swipe his eyes. Battle’s approval means more to him than he can communicate.

  I swell with my own pride, amazed at what Battle means to his friends—definitely not insignificant.

  The lot takes little time to clear out as riders pack up their sites to return to their lives. Marty and I watch a chick flick inside while the guys pack up the motorhome. We offered to help, but Battle suggested we give him and Austin some time with Cooper. I assume they’re trying to cheer him up as he’s been quiet all morning, and bowed out of his ride today. Their relationship may be toxic, but Cooper’s obviously upset about Rachel ending things. I’m slightly annoyed with his pouting as he’s the one whoring around.

  “I feel bad for Coop,” Marty says.

  “Really?” I ask, and she nods. “I don’t. If he didn’t get into bed with every cowboy clinger that came along, he could save his relationship.”

  “And if Rachel would leave her husband, Coop might do that.”

  I whip my head around. “She’s married?”