The Bust

by Jamie Bennett

  He yelled like I was killing him when I put my hand near it. “OK, buddy. Calm down. How do you want to hold it so we can get out of here and get you fixed up?”

  He was sobbing, but somehow I managed to get his arm stabilized. I remembered how Ben had acted when I’d broken my arm, when I’d fallen off the jungle gym. He’d run down from his eighth-grade classroom and helped me, just like I was going to do for Jamison. “Em, let’s go. You have to walk this time. I’ve got you, buddy,” I told the kid. “We’re going to make this better.”

  But then, as I was carrying him out crying, with Emma at my feet and walking so close she was tripping me, I saw my brother. Ben. He was there, across the field from us. He stared at me for a moment and at Jamison, a wreck in my arms.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  “I didn’t break in, I didn’t break any rules. I swear, Ben.”

  He was already shaking his head. “What happened to that kid? What in the hell did you do now, Kayden?” he yelled at me.

  I looked at my brother, at the disappointment and anger on his face that I could see from a hundred-sixty feet away. Then Jamison moaned, “It hurts so much!”

  It did. We left without saying anything else.

  Chapter 14

  Kylie

  I closed the window, but not fast enough. Roy got a glimpse of the computer screen, where I was looking up twelve-step programs and what to do if someone had a relapse. I’d been in here writing want-ads for a waitress on various employment sites, but I’d moved on to other things, like researching doctors on the west coast of Florida and transportation options to New Orleans. And then, because I was so worried, drug and alcohol support groups.

  “So the boyfriend slipped up, did he?” Roy asked. He didn’t sound happy, like I thought he might have. No, he sounded grim. Almost sad.

  “He didn’t. I don’t think.” I swallowed. “I don’t know.” Had he been drinking or using again? I wasn’t sure. Kayden had been acting so strangely that it was a possibility, and I was afraid that it was my fault. I was the one who’d thought it was a good idea for him to come to the bar…ok, he’d wanted to come to the bar to visit me and I’d wanted it too, but I should have trusted my instincts and told him no, that wasn’t going to be ok. Because now something was wrong. It was more than Jamison’s broken arm, although I knew that Kayden blamed himself for the accident. It was more than worry for Emma.

  “He has a game tomorrow, don’t he?”

  “A home game,” I agreed. Jamison was feeling better and his mom was driving us both over to watch.

  “Did you tell him that you’re leaving?” Roy asked.

  Oh, lordy. My heart sank into my ugly yet comfortable shoes. “He knows. Is that what triggered it? Did I actually drive him to drink?”

  “He’s in control of himself, not you. You can’t make him drink and you can’t make him sober.”

  “Then why did you ask me that?”

  “Because it might be bothering him, that’s why! It’s bothering the hell out of me,” Roy said.

  “It is? Because you’re worried about who will take the tavern if…” I didn’t want to say that he might die.

  “It’s not if, it’s when,” he told me, and rolled his eyes. “There’s no magic ending coming for me.”

  “Oh, Roy.” That was true, wasn’t it? That wasn’t coming for any of us. I held on to the edge of the desk, feeling the ache in my knuckles.

  “That’s not what I’m worried about, anyway,” he said. “Dexter can have the tavern, do what he wants with it. I can’t let that bother me so much.”

  I thought of the town without Roy’s Tavern. It might be quieter and more refined, and probably would have less puke on the sidewalks, but those didn’t seem like good things. “I think Dexter will keep it open. I think he’ll see that it’s important,” I said, but Roy waved that away with his hand.

  “You shouldn’t leave, if you want the bar or not,” he said. “Why do you want to?”

  I didn’t. I had to.

  “You’re going to drag that sick dog all over hell’s half-acre?” he went on. “What are you trying to do, kill her?”

  I gasped in anger. “Why would you say that to me? Of course I don’t!”

  “Then what are you doing? The travel itch just so strong, you have to leave a house that’s paid off and a bank account? You got me to do a damn direct deposit!”

  “Well, you kept ‘forgetting’ my check! Convenient, wasn’t it?”

  “So you’re all set now!” he roared back. “What in the hell are you running away from?”

  “Nothing!” I jumped up so quickly that his desk chair tipped over, and since it was as old and decrepidated as the rest of the furniture, it broke. I went immediately on offense to stop his line of questioning. “Look at this! Why would I want this crappy old bar? No one would!”

  “Good, because you’re not getting it! Put your lazy ass back in gear!” He slammed the office door as he walked out, then I walked out and did the same thing, so the wood frame separated from the wall and made a big crack in the yellowed paint. It was a piece of crap, so there!

  But I felt terrible about what I’d said to Roy, and I knew that some of it hadn’t been true at all. Yes, the bar was crappy, and yes, he had “forgotten” my checks. But no, I didn’t have a travel itch. I hadn’t learned to drive yet, and I was supposed to get my license before I went. And what if Emma got sick again on the road—would I be able to find a vet as good as the guy we had here? Kayden was right, and he was very up on the latest for octogonian dogs!

  And Kayden. How was I going to leave Kayden? I felt my fingertips over my face, searching. It was ok today, but how long would that last? I had to leave, I reminded myself. I had to.

  Roy was impossible for the rest of the night, ignoring the drink orders I put in or purposely messing them up so that the customers got mad. Every time I approached him to talk about our fight, he gave me the finger and refused to even look at me. He gave me a ride home that night anyway, and since he was driving and couldn’t escape without a lot of road rash, he had to listen as I apologized and he grunted a response which I took as acceptance. I still felt bad, sorry, worried.

  Mostly I worried about Kayden, almost all about him. He was totally quiet in his room when I came in and I snuck to his door to check on him. His game was the next day, so of course I wouldn’t wake him, but I did want to make sure that he was asleep and comfortable because he hadn’t been sleeping, not as far as I could tell. I’d heard him up and walking very, very late. Ever since the day that Jamison broke his arm, ever since the night that he’d come to Roy’s. Ever since Emma had been sick at the vet’s and he’d lain down with me…

  I’d thought a lot about that night. Kayden had said he wouldn’t leave he hadn’t, and I didn’t know how to explain to him how grateful I was. But it wasn’t just gratitude, and when I started to try to figure out how it was that I felt, I couldn’t. I just got overwhelmed by the idea that he had to be all right, no matter what, and I had to make that happen. I pushed on the door now and looked in at him.

  He was still and quiet on the bed and Emma was asleep there with him. She lay across the mattresses, stretched out as far as she could reach, so he was on his side with her paws pressing into his back. It was chilly in the room but he had the sheet pulled down around his waist and I could see the long path of the muscles in his chest and stomach, and also some bruises. It was hard to see him take hits in these games, hard to watch him when I knew it had to hurt. I didn’t want him to be hurt and I didn’t want to hurt him myself. I reached out to touch one of the injured spots but dropped my hand.

  “I’m awake,” he said, and I jumped.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make noise.”

  “You didn’t. I haven’t been sleeping well.” He scooted over slightly, shifting Emma, who groaned and kicked back at him.

  I sat down in the sliver of space she’d allowed. “What’s going on?” He didn’t answer
me. “Can’t I help you? The night that Em got sick, you came into my room and made me feel so much better.”

  “Did I?” He reached and tugged at the band holding in my bun, letting my hair spill down over my shoulders. He wrapped a lock around his finger.

  “Can I please try to do that for you?” I asked. “Can you tell me why you haven’t been sleeping? Are you worried about Emma?” She grunted again when I said her name.

  “Emma? No, I think she’s ok now.” He swirled another lock of hair, tugging gently. “I realized when I came in today how well I could move through the house without tripping on things. It’s almost empty.”

  It was. All of Great-aunt Maude’s things were gone and Kayden didn’t have much of his own to take up the space that had opened up. With my few possessions now packed, it hardly looked like anyone lived here. “You’re going to have enough money soon to get new furniture,” I said. “It’ll look a lot fuller after that.”

  I heard his sigh. “That’s not what I was thinking about.”

  I stood and adjusted Emma so that she was vertical on the bed, freeing up more than half of the space. “Scoot over,” I told Kayden, and then I lay next to him just like he’d done for me. I put my arms around him and snuggled up, pressing myself against his warm skin. He held me just as close and I felt the sigh this time. His breath ruffled my hair. “Does this feel better?”

  He didn’t answer, but his arms tightened even more.

  “Are you worried about Jamison? He’s going to be ok. He’ll get the cast off in a few weeks. Right?” I prompted when there was still no response. “They think it will heal up perfectly.”

  “He’s so disappointed that he’s not going to get to play baseball,” he said. “It’s all messed up for him.”

  “It was an accident. He’s—”

  “I saw my brother,” Kayden said suddenly. “I saw him right after Jamison fell.”

  “Oh, lordy!” I could feel his heart beating harder. “Did he help you guys? What happened?”

  “He thought I’d snuck onto the field.” He pressed his face into my hair. “He thought I’d done something to hurt the kid.”

  “Kayden, no. No! I’m sure he didn’t think that at all!”

  “Why wouldn’t he? What have I ever shown him that would make him think something else? Never, not once in my whole life. I’ve fucked up for my whole life.” His voice dragged, like he was exhausted just by talking. “I was thinking that I was better but then at the bar, it was all I could do not to lick the whiskey off the table.”

  “What? What whiskey? At Roy’s?”

  “There was a puddle from where a glass spilled and I sat there looking at it, wanting it so much. And tonight, it was worse. It wasn’t even like they were drinking that much because we play tomorrow, but—”

  “What are you talking about?” This time I did sit up. “Who was drinking?”

  “I went over to a guy’s house, one of the receivers. They all had a beer or two while we watched game tape of the Copperheads for tomorrow, nothing so big, but I could barely hold it together.” Another sigh. “Maybe I’ll…”

  “What?”

  He didn’t say anything more.

  I was terrified, so scared for him that I had to keep my voice from shaking. “You may have been tempted, but you didn’t drink, did you? You stopped yourself.”

  “I don’t know why.”

  “Yes, you do. You knew that you wanted to stay sober so you did. You made the right choice. And no matter what your brother may think, of course you wouldn’t hurt Jamison! He fell, by mistake, because he was climbing somewhere he shouldn’t have. His own mother didn’t blame you, did she? She was so happy that you brought him to the hospital and stayed with him. Jamison loves you.”

  “Does he?” He sounded shocked.

  “What do you think he means when he says you’re his brother? Of course he does. And Emma does, too. She loves you so much.”

  “I love them back,” he told me. “I do, and I didn’t know it.”

  My own heart swelled up. “We wouldn’t have made it without you when she was sick, Kayden.”

  “Yes, you would—”

  “No,” I answered. “We wouldn’t. You were amazing.”

  “You’re leaving anyway.”

  I rested the back of my hand against his cheek, the knuckles that ached so much. I had to, I wanted to tell him, but I didn’t think he’d understand. Then, without considering what I was doing, I leaned down and put my lips softly against his. I saw his eyes go wide.

  “You don’t have to do that,” he told me.

  “Don’t you think I want to?” I kissed him again and this time, he kissed me back. He tangled his fingers in my hair as he drew me to lie on his chest. I pulled my thigh up over his to get myself closer and one of his hands caressed it, moving up to grip my butt. When he did that, I lost it a little. I kissed him like I was depending on his mouth for life support, and suddenly we were moving, flipped over like pancakes and Kayden was lying over me. His hand lifted my hips to press me to him and I gasped.

  Immediately, he stopped. “No?”

  “Yes. Yes!” I told him, and squirmed as I tried to recreate that pressure, that fit of our bodies together. His mouth crashed into mine as I moved against him. He kissed me hard, and deep, and as he did, he rocked his hips, and then his fingers swept up my stomach to brush over the bra that was as comfortable as my work shoes and equally ugly. He squeezed.

  “Kayden!” He jerked away his hand and I put it firmly back on my breast. “Don’t stop doing that, not ever.”

  When he laughed, I wondered how long it had been since I’d heard him make the sound. “Might be hard to maintain a hold on you during the game tomorrow. And I wear gloves, so I’d miss how good it feels to me.” He massaged and bent to kiss my neck, and his fingers slipped over the top of my bra to stroke my skin. My nipple. I gasped again. “Does this feel good?” he asked.

  “It feels wonderful,” I said, but my words came out like a groan. It felt better than anything I’d experienced of the sex variety, tops by a long shot. “I do want you to keep doing that forever.”

  “It would be better with my mouth,” he told me, lifting his head from my neck, and I shivered, hard. His mouth, his tongue…

  A tongue did hit me in the face, but it wasn’t Kayden’s. Emma had scooched until her face was about an inch from mine, and she stared at me as I turned my head.

  “She can sleep in the bunk room and we’ll take this bed for ourselves from now on,” Kayden said, and laughed again. “I’ll carry her in there. She’s going to be pissed.” He stood and scooped up my dog, who growled. “Yeah, she already is.”

  “What?” I sat up in the bed. “From now on?”

  “Yeah, we’ll be in here and Emma…” He trailed off as he stared at me. “No, that’s not your plan,” he said slowly. “Oh, ok, I get it. I see what you’re thinking. I understand what you were doing.”

  I shook my head so fast that my hair whipped into my eyes. “No, no you don’t!”

  “Sure I do,” he told me. “You kissed me because I was whining about my sorry, drunk life, and how nobody loves my weak ass. You shut me up pretty well.”

  “That’s not what just happened!” I jumped off the bed.

  “No? So why? To say goodbye? You’re still planning to leave, right?” Emma growled again. At me, I realized.

  “I—we have to leave, but it doesn’t mean that—that wasn’t why I—”

  Kayden turned and I heard my bedroom door open and swing back hard against the wall. He came back into his room a moment later, arms empty. “Emma’s in there for you.” And he pointed, to show me the way I needed to leave.

  “Kayden, you don’t understand.” We stood looking at each other, like he was waiting, and I realized that I didn’t understand either. How could I explain how I’d just acted?

  “I need to get some sleep for the game.” His voice was flat.

  “Oh. Ok.” I opened my mouth to say
that I was sorry. I was so glad that I’d kissed him and felt his touch, so that when I left, I’d have that to take with me. But I’d obviously hurt his feelings, and I’d made things much, much worse. “I didn’t mean to,” I tried to explain.

  “I really need to sleep.” He closed the door behind me.

  Late that night, I heard Emma crying and whining and he opened it back up for her.

  ∞

  Kayden

  I stopped in front of the house, a place I hadn’t been for a long time. The last time, in fact, was the night before I’d grabbed my brother’s nanny, Gaby—his girlfriend, and then he and I had fought for the final time. But the same broken-down car was in the yard at this place, the same washing machine rusted away on the porch. I didn’t think the guy who used to live here had left. I sat in the car and watched the house, remembering that night, the night I’d really done a number on my life. I’d gone out with an old acquaintance, one of the former conditioning coaches for the Woodsmen team who’d gotten fired both for being high on the job and for supplying some of the players. I had been one of those players, and this house had been his best source for what he’d sold to me.

  I’d been staying with my brother because I’d been cut by the Rustlers and I was sure my career was over. I’d met his nanny, started to make friends with my niece, started to believe that maybe, just maybe, I’d be able to pull things back together. I’d figured that I could do a quick stint in some cushy rehab and get another team to sign me, and I’d be ok. I even tried to stop cold turkey at Ben’s house because I didn’t want to be high around him and his daughter.

  But it had started to pull on me, that urge. The itch and the hollow feeling that I had to fill up. So I’d come here with that former coach, my old supplier, and I’d fallen hard off the wagon. And the next morning, I was still feeling it, but that high was mixed with guilt and remorse and shame. And Gaby had come into my room, and I’d tried to kiss her, and hold her, and maul her, and…

  The door to the house opened and a face peeked out. A kid’s face, a young kid. He stared at me in this car. “Dad!” I heard him yell. “There’s someone here for you.”