Beautiful Sacrifice (Maddox Brothers #3)

by Jamie McGuire

Pete slapped my hand as I grabbed for another, and I tried not to laugh.

  My grin fell away. “He said I had a nightmare,” I said to Pete.

  He frowned.

  “It’s been a long time … since …” I said, trailing off.

  Phaedra came over to stand next to me and gently pulled on one of my tawny waves, moving it away from my face. “You sure you don’t have anything planned?” she asked.

  “Yes. Why?”

  She gestured behind her with a nod. “Because that boy’s here, looking for you.”

  I scrambled to the doors, pushing through to see Taylor standing on the sidewalk outside. He waved to me.

  “He likes you,” Kirby gushed as I passed her.

  Taylor shoved his hands into his jeans pockets, his short sleeves showing off the lean muscles in his arms.

  “If you tell me you were in the neighborhood, I’m going to be disappointed,” I said, crossing my arms.

  He chuckled and looked down. “No. I was bored and came straight over.”

  “You have the day off, too?”

  “I do. Wanna do some stupid touristy shit with me? You listed all that stuff before.”

  “Are you driving? I don’t have a car.”

  “My truck is over there,” he said, turning slightly and gesturing toward a shiny black foreign job with mud tires. He turned back to me, dubious. “How do you get around?”

  “Where am I gonna go?” I asked.

  Taylor held out his hand, one side of his mouth pulling into a mischievous half smile. “With me.”

  My first impulse was to say no. I had gotten used to being broody and spitting words that would make any man retreat, but I didn’t have to do that with Taylor. My insults had no effect on him, and he’d just keep coming back until it was time for him to leave. If I managed to get him to take me to Eakins, I wouldn’t even have to push him away after our return to Colorado Springs. His job and the distance would do it for me.

  He flashed his dimple, and saying yes to him was nearly compulsive.

  “Just don’t do anything stupid, like open my car door.”

  “Do I look like that kind of guy to you?”

  “No, but you don’t look like the kind of guy who makes friends with girls either, and it feels like I’ve got the job.”

  He pulled me along, looking both ways before crossing the street. “What can I say? You’re the opposite of my better half.”

  “So, I’m so horrible that I make you feel like a better person?” I asked, standing next to the passenger-side door.

  He pointed at me. “Exactly.”

  He reached for the door handle, but I smacked his hand away.

  “Don’t worry, Ivy League. I wouldn’t open your door for you even if I liked you,” he said. “You’re driving. I don’t know where to go, and I damn sure don’t want you barking directions at me.”

  “You want me to drive your truck?” I asked, feeling a bit nervous. I hadn’t driven anything in years.

  The doors clicked, and Taylor handed me a set of keys—some shiny, some not so shiny. Walking around the front end and then climbing into the driver’s seat, I tried not to show fear, but mostly, I didn’t want to feel it. I closed the door and pulled on my seat belt, horrified that my hands were trembling.

  “Do you even have a license?” he asked.

  “Yes. I know how to drive. It’s just … been a while.” I sniffed and felt even sicker. “You spent the morning cleaning your truck, didn’t you?”

  “Smells like new, doesn’t she?”

  “Isn’t it new?”

  “She. She is not new, no. I bought her last year.” He took the keys from my hand and chose the largest one to stab into the ignition.

  “Jesus,” I whispered. “I really don’t think I should drive … her.”

  “You’ll be fine.”

  Instantly, the radio blared screamy hard rock.

  He twisted the volume. “Sorry.”

  “No country?” I asked, resting my hands on the wheel at ten and two.

  He laughed once. “Country’s for dancing and crying. AC/DC is for cleaning your truck.”

  I made a face. “But … it’s old.”

  “The classics never get old. Let’s go.”

  I pulled down the gearshift and turned around, slowly backing out of the parking space. A car appeared and honked, and I slammed on the brakes.

  Taylor looked at me, his eyebrows shooting up almost to his hairline.

  “I desperately want to keep up my cast-iron bitch persona, but I don’t think I can do this,” I said.

  “How long did you say it’s been?”

  “Five years.”

  “Why?”

  “No car.”

  “Ever? Or did you wreck yours?”

  I stared at him, unable to answer.

  He unfastened his seat belt. “You’d better just tell me where I’m going. I’ll learn to live with directions from a girl. We can reintroduce you to the road another day.”

  “Directions from a girl? Shall I assume you’d even ask for them? Or is that too far from the ancient stereotype?”

  He stared at me with dead eyes. “Ivy League, stop talking to me like you’re writing a fucking paper.”

  “Let’s just do this,” I said, climbing over the console.

  After jogging around to the driver’s side, he climbed up and settled in. “I feel better about this,” he said, nodding.

  I agreed, “Me, too.”

  “Where are we going first?”

  “Um … Garden of the Gods. Just over ten minutes away and free parking.”

  “Not Pikes Peak? You haven’t hiked it, have you?” His tone was accusatory. “I’ve heard the locals don’t.”

  “I have actually,” I snapped. “A couple of times. But you can see Pikes from the Garden of the Gods. Trust me. It’s really a special place.”

  “Okay. Where am I going?”

  “Take Tejon south to Uintah. Go until you get to thirtieth, and then take West Colorado onto Ridge Road. Just follow the signs.”

  “You got it,” he said, backing out. He slammed on the brakes when another car laid on its horn. “See? It wasn’t just you.”

  I laughed and shook my head as he inched out onto Tejon Street.

  The familiar view outside my window hadn’t changed much since I was a girl. Colorado was its own Eden, its residents holding tight to preserving the state’s natural beauty. The Garden of the Gods was the earth turned on its edge. The views were particularly gasp-worthy. As a child, it had been my favorite local place to visit—not only to see it for myself, but also to watch as others experienced it for the first time.

  Taylor was no exception. As we parked, he couldn’t stop staring. He said little as we hiked along the formations, breathing in the fresh air and open space. The sky was still a bit hazy from the outlying fires, but it didn’t seem to faze him.

  An hour after we’d arrived, Taylor sat on a boulder to rest. “This is incredible. I’m pissed I’ve been here for as long as I have and haven’t come here before. I’ve gotta show the guys.”

  I smiled, satisfied with his reaction. “Everyone should see this place. I don’t know. There’s just something about it.”

  “I walk a lot of miles when I’m on the job, and I’m fucking tired. What’s up with that?”

  I looked up, squinting from the sun overhead. Beads of sweat had just begun to fall from the nape of my neck down to the top seam of my tank top. “I don’t think you’re tired. I think you’re relaxed.”

  “Maybe so. All I wanna do is take a nap.”

  “That’s because you were up all night, doing my laundry.”

  “Not all night. I slept. You drool by the way.”

  “Oh, that’s why you didn’t make the moves on me. I thought maybe I snored.”

  “No. You might actually be the cutest sleeper ever.”

  I made a face. “Like you’ve spent a whole night with someone before.”

  He thought abo
ut it. “True.”

  “So, tell me something I don’t know about you,” I said, trying not to sound too eager. This was the precarious part. It was the make-or-break moment where I would get information I needed without seeming like I was getting information.

  His brows pulled together. “Like what?”

  I crossed my arms and shrugged.

  He patted the empty space next to him. “My birthday is January first.”

  “That’s kind of cool.” I sat next to him, stretching my legs out in front of me. I hadn’t realized how tired I was until I sat down. “It’s always a big party, huh?”

  “I guess.”

  “I figured you’d talk about your job.”

  “It’s a job. When’s your birthday?” Taylor asked.

  “Oh, are we doing Twenty Questions?”

  He feigned exasperation. “A form of it, I guess.”

  “It’s not just a job. You save lives, homes, entire towns.”

  He waited for me to answer, unfazed.

  “My birthday isn’t on a holiday.”

  He waited.

  I rolled my eyes. “May thirteenth.”

  “Do you have any siblings?”

  “Nope.”

  “Your parents’ only child hates them. That sucks.”

  “Yep.”

  “Wow. I thought you were going to deny hating them. Do you really hate them?”

  “I think so.” The irony wasn’t lost on me that I had answered almost immediately with no thinking at all.

  “Can I ask why?”

  I sighed. The other part of the game I’d started long before Twenty Questions was not to give too much away while still seeming to play along. “I guess you had the perfect childhood.”

  “Not at all.”

  “Enough love for your mom to tattoo her name on your arm.”

  “My brother wanted to, so I had to, too.”

  “And why is that?”

  “We have the same tattoos.”

  “Like the exact same ones? All of you?”

  “Just my brother Tyler and me.”

  I snorted. “Taylor and Tyler.”

  He laughed, too. “Thomas, Trenton, and Travis, too.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? You’re not serious.”

  He shrugged. “She liked Ts.”

  “Clearly. So … your parents are still in Eakins?”

  “Yep.”

  “What’s Illinois like?”

  He blinked, unhappy for some reason. “I don’t know. Eakins is pretty suburban, I guess.”

  “Like here?”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s really, really small. We have only one grocery store, a few restaurants, and a couple of bars.”

  “And a tattoo parlor?”

  “Yeah. My brother works there—Trenton. He’s really good.”

  “Does he do all of yours?”

  “All but one.” Taylor held out his arm and pointed to the tattoo that read Diane.

  “Why not that one?”

  Taylor stood up. “That’s more than twenty.”

  He held out his hand to help me up. I pulled on him and then brushed off my pants.

  “I don’t think so, but we should head back if you want to see other touristy stuff.”

  He looked around and then shook his head. “No. I’m good with just hiking this trail. Unless you’re hungry or something?”

  I looked at Taylor. He was a little too sweet, somewhat courteous, and even thoughtful at times, all safely hidden away behind his smart mouth and his tough tattooed exterior.

  He cocked his head. “What?”

  “Nothing. You’re just … not what I thought … I think.”

  “Great. Now, you’re in love with me. I’ll never get rid of you.”

  My nose wrinkled. “I am definitely not and never will be.”

  “Promise?” he asked, smug.

  “Yes, and unlike you, I keep my promises.”

  “Good. Makes things a lot less complicated now that you’ve been friend-zoned.” He playfully pushed me forward, and I pushed him back. “Onward.”

  We were almost back to the truck as the sun disappeared behind the mountains. The temperature had dropped from sweltering to refreshing, and the sweat that had beaded on my skin was cooling in the light evening breeze.

  Somewhere ahead, music was floating in the air, and smells of food tipped off a party.

  “Oh,” I said, “the fund-raiser is tonight.”

  “Here?” Taylor said.

  “Every year. For the …” I scanned Taylor from head to toe. “It’s the Heroes Gala, raising money for the families of fallen firefighters.”

  A look of appreciation came over Taylor’s face. “That’s kind of cool.”

  Just when the lights and people came into view, I froze. “Shit … shit.”

  “What?”

  “My parents are there. They attend it every year.”

  “So, we’ll go around it.”

  “It’s dark,” I sighed. “We should stay on the trail. People get lost out here.”

  He grabbed my hand. “We’ll hurry past it. My truck’s just beyond that boulder.”

  I nodded, and we rushed toward an enormous white tent with hanging lights, the sound of a generator mixing with excited chatter and laughter.

  We had nearly made it when I heard William’s voice calling my name. I closed my eyes and felt Taylor squeezing my hand.

  “Falyn?” William said again.

  We turned, and when William recognized Taylor and then saw our hands, he puffed out his chest, already preparing to lose his temper. Blaire joined us, the swishing of her long gown coming to a halt once she took her husband’s arm. The expression on her face was familiar, one I had begun to relish.

  “Falyn, dear, what are you doing here?” she asked.

  “It’s a public place,” I said, angry.

  By the term of endearment, she had revealed herself. She’d only call me those asinine pet names in front of her friends, the fake ones who she’d ruthlessly trash in the privacy of her home. I wasn’t welcome, and she wanted me to leave sooner rather than later.

  People were beginning to crowd around my parents, like a small army of judgmental assholes, all listening in to make sure they could hear the juicy details to discuss at the next dinner party.

  I began to turn, but William quickly approached. “This has got to stop. You—”

  “Dad,” I said, my voice saccharine sweet, “you remember Taylor Maddox. He’s from Eakins, Illinois.”

  William blanched.

  Blaire touched her fingers to her chest. “Bill,” she said, reaching for her husband, “leave Falyn to her friend. Good night, sweetheart.”

  “We’ll discuss this later,” William said, turning his back on me.

  I pulled Taylor to the truck, desperate to get into the passenger seat. Once Taylor was sitting beside me, I yanked on the seat belt, feeling like I could finally breathe once it clicked.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I think so.”

  “What was that about?”

  I shook my head.

  “Falyn,” he said, hesitation in his voice, “why do they care that I’m from Eakins?”

  “Because they don’t want me anywhere near there.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I could cause a lot of trouble for a lot of people if I go there.”

  Taylor started the truck, and I peered over at him.

  He was staring straight ahead into the darkness. “Did you know I was from Eakins when we met?”

  “No.”

  “Does it have to do with the fire?”

  “Does what have to do with what fire?”

  He turned to me, glaring. “Are you fucking with me, Falyn? Who are you?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “What fire? What are you talking about?”

  He faced forward again. “Do you know Trex?”

  “The guy who came with you to the café the f
irst time?”

  Taylor sighed and then shoved the gearshift into reverse. “We’ve both gotta work tomorrow. We should call it a night.”

  He didn’t speak again throughout the ride to downtown. When he parked in front of the Bucksaw, he didn’t even put the truck into park.

  “Th-thanks.” I slowly unbuckled my seat belt and placed my hand on the door handle. “It was a good day.”

  “It was,” he said, sighing. Regret was all over his face.

  I fished out my keys and unlocked the front door under the lights of Taylor’s truck. Once I was inside and the door was locked, Taylor backed into the street and drove away.

  I stood in the dim dining area, alone and confused. Eakins had other secrets, more than just mine.

  Six days.

  Taylor or anyone from his crew, including the now mysterious Trex, hadn’t been to The Bucksaw Café in six days. I had gone over what I’d said until my thoughts were sick of themselves.

  I tapped on the counter with what little nails I had while chewing on a cuticle on my other hand. Most of the time, not having a phone was liberating, but now that I wanted to Google something, I felt an impulsive need to go out and buy one.

  “I thought you were going to quit that,” Phaedra said, walking by with a tubful of dirty dishes.

  I pulled my finger out of my mouth, the skin around my nail white and torn. “Damn it.”

  Kirby stood by the drink station, picking up clean cloths for wiping down tables even though she hadn’t seated anyone in twenty minutes. Only the loyal regulars were in their seats, ignoring the pouring rain outside.

  “Do you have your phone?” I asked Kirby.

  She pulled it from her apron. “Yeah. Why?”

  “I want to look something up. Can I use it?”

  Kirby granted my request. The hot-pink case meant to protect her phone felt bulky in my hand. The days when I’d had a cell phone were so far behind me that it felt like a former life, but the screen looked the same. The icon for the Internet was easy to find.

  I clicked on it and proceeded to type in the words, Fire in Eakins, Illinois.

  The first page was full of links to articles about the local college. I clicked on the first one, reading about dozens of college kids who had been killed while trapped in a basement of one of the campus buildings. I shuddered at images of sooty faces, looking just like Taylor’s the first day I’d met him. The name Travis Maddox came up more than a dozen times. He was being investigated for being present at the fight. I wondered why, out of all the students present, Travis and one other man were the only two mentioned to be facing charges.