Saratoga Falls: The Complete Love Story Series

by Pogue, Lindsey

  I wanted to throw up.

  “Without further ado, I’ll start collecting tickets! Remember, only one minute each, ladies. Don’t be greedy.”

  My cheeks burned, and I swallowed thickly as soft footsteps approached. A girl in flip-flops, by the sound of it. Tentatively, the curtain opened and afternoon light poured through, almost blinding me until I could see a petite girl with long brown curly hair, probably seventeen or eighteen years old, looking hesitantly in at me. Her expression seemed to soften and she pulled the curtain shut behind her.

  “Yeah, so this is awkward,” I said with a smile. Breaking the ice was the only way I’d get through the next—well, however long Mac was going to make me do this.

  The cute girl smiled. “It’s for a good cause, right?”

  I nodded. “That’s what Mac keeps telling me.”

  “Well then . . . I guess—”

  I nodded again, and leaned forward. “Let’s do this.”

  Shutting her eyes, the girl leaned in and pressed her lips softly against mine. Then, just like that, she stood up. “Thanks,” she whispered, and disappeared back through the curtain.

  “You’re welcome?” I said, mostly to myself. It was quick and painless, which gve me hope it wouldn’t end up being so horrible after all.

  When the next girl came in, I recognized her from my graduating class, which meant she was probably someone’s older sister who got sucked into coming to the event too. “Caralyn, right?”

  “Yeah. I wondered if it would be you or Slinsky or Tompkins.”

  “I hope you’re not too disappointed,” I said with a smirk, almost flirting with her.

  “Pleasantly surprised, actually.”

  I smiled. “Shall we then?” This time, I leaned in with more confidence, only she didn’t just press her lips to mine. Caralyn’s mouth parted ever-so-slightly, and she seemed to relish the kiss for a few breaths before she slowly pulled away. I sat there, stunned.

  “Thanks, Turner.” She smiled and licked her lips. “See you around.”

  “Uh—yeah, sure.”

  I stared at her empty seat. If nothing else, this was a good way to get my fix during a dry spell. I laughed at my own joke, pleased with myself.

  When the curtain opened again, it was Bethany who was stepping inside. I’m not sure what my expression was, but the moment she saw that it was me, she froze, her purse half falling off her shoulder.

  “It’s you,” she breathed.

  “Yep.” I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  She stared at me, her blonde hair hanging long and straight around her shoulders, and her makeup was dark around her eyes. Finally, she turned around and walked out. Just like that.

  Even though it was a typical encounter for us—awkward and off-putting—I felt surprisingly rejected.

  “Yeah. Good to see you too.”

  Eight

  The Decision

  Reilly

  Three Years Ago

  Sitting in my bedroom, staring at the walls that had felt like my cage most of my life and listening to my old man snoring in the next room, drunk in his chair, made it hard to remember why I’d wanted to come home for my break. Maybe it was because everyone else in my unit was excited to visit family and I felt like I should be too. Maybe it was because I thought it would help bring me closure after Sam ripped out my heart through a letter that told me she didn’t want to be with me anymore—she couldn’t wait for me anymore, despite what she’d promised. Maybe it was because I knew she was in Saratoga Falls and that she was seeing someone else. Sam and I went from best friends, to more than that, to nothing at all. It sucked, and apparently, I was a glutton for punishment.

  My dad cleared his throat in the other room. Coming home to this house—this town—was a mistake.

  Grabbing my keys and a jacket, I opened my bedroom door and headed out into the living room. My dad was passed out and slouched over in his peeling-pleather recliner, a couple empty beer cans on the floor around him, and one teetering in his hand. He’d aged a lifetime in the couple years I’d been gone. His beard was full and nearly grayed, his permanent frown deepened, even in his sleep. The familiar stench of stale beer clung to the house, though to my surprise, it looked like he might’ve cleaned the place up a bit, knowing I’d be coming home.

  I shook my head. No amount of spot cleaning or cheap air freshener could cover up the decay of this place. It was still hell.

  Without looking back, I walked out the front door. At least now I was divested of him and the home that housed every bad memory of my childhood. It was liberating knowing I never had to go back again if I didn’t want to—that he couldn’t hold anything over me anymore. I was double his size, which meant he couldn’t touch me either. I never had to see my own hell or him again, if I chose not to. It was a powerful feeling.

  The Rumbler glistened in the setting sun, and I realized how much I’d missed my truck while I was gone. It might have been one of the only things I’d really missed.

  A breeze whipped by me, sending chills over my skin, and I shrugged on my jacket. It was difficult getting used to the changing climate. It was almost time to leave again and I still hadn’t acclimated. Part of me missed the arid, shrub-riddled hillsides of the Middle East. I was used to heat and desolation. Not the storm clouds that had started to roll in. Not the cold. Not anymore.

  Pulling out my phone, I texted Nick.

  Me: Frida’s?

  I knew it was his night off from Lick’s, and he was likely at home doing homework, so I wasn’t surprised when he texted me back almost immediately. Plus, he was always hungry.

  Nick: YES!! You read my mind. You fly, I buy? Four al pastor tacos with extra chips and salsa.

  Me: On it. See you soon. You better have clothes on when I get there.

  It was my last night in Saratoga Falls, and I figured I might as well spend it with my best friend. Sliding my phone into my back pocket, I turned on the Rumbler and headed down the gravel driveway. I tried not to wonder if Sam was at home, or if she was with Mike. I knew the guy briefly when I was in high school. I’d seen him in passing at a couple parties in Benton, though he was at least a year older than me. He wasn’t a local, which I hated even more. He was some rich sleazeball from the city who slummed it in Saratoga Falls and college towns once in a while, or at least that was the story I’d made up in my head. I just knew I didn’t like the guy. Refusing to look at the driveway past mine, I started down the mountain.

  I’d seen Sam with him at the gas station when I’d first got to town at the beginning of the week. That was enough for me. They’d come out of Jack’s Save Mart holding hands and completely oblivious to my being there, which was fine with me. Watching them together was a hurt and anger I hadn’t expected to be so raw, and the last thing I wanted to do was talk to her.

  I pulled into Frida’s Mexican Restaurant and ordered a super carne asada burrito and four al pastor tacos—with extra chips and salsa—to go. And while I waited for them to prepare my order, my gaze landed on a couple going at it, hot and heavy in a booth tucked in the far corner of the bustling restaurant. Rolling my eyes, I was about to look away when I noticed a familiar face come up for air. I almost didn’t recognize him in the dim light and he was out of place without his BMW and sport jacket.

  Mike said something I couldn’t hear and downed the rest of his beer. Then, with a grin, he looked at the girl he was with. She wasn’t a petite, pixie-like blonde, but a brunette. The brunette, young, maybe Sam’s age, but definitely nothing like Sam, climbed out of the booth, adjusted her cardigan, and smoothed out her hair as she waited for Mike to climb out behind her.

  She took his hand and led him toward me—toward the door—and it was all I could do not to throw him against the wall with a mouthful of my fist.

  He nodded at me as he passed. “Hey, Reilly,” he said. “It’s been awhile.” Oblivious, he smiled. “Take care, dude.”

  My fists clenched tighter, and a growl mig
ht’ve escaped me.

  “Sir?”

  I looked at the girl at the cash register, staring at me and blinking. “Your order.” She glanced down at the plastic bag and pushed it toward me. “Have a good night.” I could hear the uncertainty in her voice as she watched me closely. I didn’t get angry very often, but my body coiled so tight I wondered if she could see my trembling muscles.

  Clearing my throat, I took the bag and walked back to my truck before I followed Mike out to his car and did something stupid.

  I assumed Sam didn’t know about the brunette, or at least didn’t know they were practically screwing in the corner booth—in a dingy Mexican restaurant, even if it was my favorite takeout.

  The entire drive to Nick’s, all I could think about was what I was supposed to do with my newfound knowledge. Would Sam even listen to me, if I told her? We hadn’t talked since her breakup letter. She hadn’t had the guts to answer my calls. Would she believe me, like she would Mac or one of her friends? I realized I didn’t know Sam much anymore, so it was hard to guess.

  When I pulled up outside Nick’s apartment, I didn’t linger in the truck. The warm scent of grilled onions and spices made me nauseous and I headed toward the house.

  I was about to open the front door when it opened for me. Nick was standing there, his smile almost as wide as his eyes as he peered down at the bag in my hands. “You’re like my own personal Santa Claus, you know that? I’m freaking starving.” But his excitement faded when he registered my expression, and he moved aside for me to come in. “What the hell’s wrong with you? I put clothes on, like you asked.”

  I handed Nick the bag and ran my fingers through my hair. “What do you know about Sam’s boyfriend?”

  “Oh boy, not this again—”

  “I’m serious, Nick. What do you know about Mike?”

  Nick walked over to the table and untied the plastic bag. “Nothing, really, other than Sam keeps to herself when he’s here. She only comes around when he’s away on business for his parents or some shit. That’s all I know.” He pulled a couple Dr. Peppers out of the fridge and set them on the table. “It’s not like I hang out with the guy.”

  “But they are still together, right? I mean, I saw them the other day at the gas station. They acted like they were together.” I tried and failed to make sense of Sam’s stupidity—to make sense of how she could possibly be in a relationship with such a piece of shit.

  Nick nodded, then crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “Why? What’s this about?”

  “I just saw the mother fucker at Frida’s with his tongue down some other chick’s throat.”

  His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and I felt vindicated as his scowl deepened, similar to mine. “Really?”

  “Out in the open, like it was nothing.”

  Rubbing his temple, Nick sighed and shook his head. “I knew that guy was bad news. I think Sam does too, deep down, or she wouldn’t keep me and Mac at a distance so much.”

  “Well, what the hell do I do?” I paced the living room of the apartment, my mind reeling with hatred and uncertainty. I wanted Sam to regret her decision to dump me for a tool that would treat her the way Mike was. But more than anything, I didn’t want her to be treated like that, even if she already knew and didn’t care, which was a hard and sudden realization. She deserved better.

  “I fly back to Colorado tomorrow for deployment. I can’t leave, knowing what I know, Nick. I can’t do nothing.” I looked at him in earnest. “What do I do?”

  His brow drew together, and I knew Nick was just as conflicted as I was.

  “Sam is going to hate whoever pops the bubble she’s been living in this year. You know that, right? At least for a little while.”

  I nodded. “Probably. But the alternative is allowing her to be a toy to some guy who clearly doesn’t care about her the way she thinks he does. I can’t let that stand. She has to know.”

  “We could tell Mac and she could—”

  I shook my head. “I’m doing it,” I said with more adamancy that I’d ever felt about anything in my life. “I’m confronting him, and I’m going to make him tell her. I’ll be more persuasive than Mac ever will. Even if I have to put the fear of God in him.” Even if I had to drive around all night to figure out how.

  Nick didn’t seem convinced. “Reilly, his family is huge in this town, he might not care what you have to say to him.”

  “He will.” I turned for the front door. “He still lives in that big ass house in the Valley?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  I flung the door open.

  “Reilly . . .”

  Despite my determination, I hesitated.

  “She might hate you for this,” he said.

  Knowing I would be leaving in twelve hours and might never see Sam again anyway, I didn’t care. “She can hate me all she wants.” I met Nick’s gaze one last time. “I’ll hate myself if I don’t.”

  Nick nodded, and I shut the door behind me.

  Nine

  Friends Forever

  Sam

  Three Years Ago

  “What about that one?” Mac asked and pointed up to the black expanse above us. “That one could be a mermaid—or, a merperson, if we’re being P.C. You just really have to use your imagination.”

  “Are we still talking about constellations, or are you referring to that scant patch of clouds over there, because I don’t see it in the stars?” I wrapped my arms tighter around me. It was a cold night, brisk and semi-clear, for an April evening. Being up on Mac’s rooftop, with only the sound of Mac and I breathing and the feel of the breeze against my skin, was reassuring in its own way. A nice change from the loneliness I felt at the ranch, even if it was easier to hide there.

  “I was talking about the constellation,” Mac clarified, as if it was obvious.

  “You can’t just point up into a sea of billions of blinking stars and say, ‘that one’ and expect me to know which one you’re talking about. It doesn’t work that way.”

  “Fine.” Mac sighed. “If you look at the last star in Orion’s Belt, and bump over to that fast blinking one—” Her finger moved through the sky, and I nodded like I could actually see a mermaid, but I couldn’t.

  “I told you it was a stretch,” she muttered, and pulled the fleece blanket over us, closer around her neck.

  Staring up at the night sky, I felt so small. My life had fallen apart in a matter of hours. It would never be the same, and no matter how much my friends tried to console me—no matter how many times I told myself Papa would’ve wanted me to move on—none of it mattered. Until that moment.

  The grief and regret felt a little lighter up there on the rooftop, closer to the unknown. My world might’ve been crashing in around me, and my head and heart aching and broken, but I was still breathing, staring up at the unexplainable and that felt big. I felt lucky in some ways.

  “Thank you for coming over, Sam. I know you didn’t want to.”

  I blinked in the cool air, refusing to look at Mac and her sympathetic expression. I wasn’t sure why I’d always wanted to cry when I was around my friends. I had gotten better about holding myself together, most of the time. But knowing Mac wanted me there because I’d begun to push her away, made the night feel heavier than usual.

  “I needed to get out of the house,” I told her, which was true. “Thanks for making me.”

  Mac didn’t say anything else about it. She didn’t ask how I’d been holding up since Papa’s funeral, or if things were better with Alison at the ranch, because she already knew the answers. I wasn’t holding it together well, not when I knew Papa was gone because of me. Things with Alison weren’t better, they never would be. We didn’t talk much, and I felt more alone than I ever had in my life. Mac seemed to finally understand that.

  “Is Nick working tonight at Lick’s?” I asked, wondering if he was tired of working two jobs and going to school on top of it all. It was a lot to ask of him, helping me around the ranch
in Papa’s absence, but then, I guess I never really asked him. He was just Nick—always there when I needed him, even if I didn’t always know it or appreciate it the way I should.

  He showed up the week of the accident to feed the horses. The following week he began to exercise them. He fed the chickens and then helped me figure out Papa’s finances and the business side of things. Nick had been there for me ever since. We didn’t talk about Reilly, thankfully. Not after the mess he’d created. I didn’t think it was possible to hate someone you once loved so much, but I did. I hated him the way I hated Mike for not returning any of my calls. Probably because he was off with Bethany, too busy to care that he’d ruined my life. That I was shattered because of him.

  Mac, Nick, and the ranch had been the only constants. My only distractions. They were my sanity, and I owed a girl’s night to Mac so that she could have some peace of mind.

  “Have you heard from David?” I asked her, realizing she’d had her fair share of shit to deal with also. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner.”

  “Meh. It’s fine. I mostly worry about my dad, not David. David’s an ass, he does what he wants and on his terms.”

  “Yeah, but he’s never been MIA this long, has he?”

  When Mac didn’t answer, I glanced at her, only to find her face covered in shadows. “He’s not coming back this time,” she said with certainty and there was bitterness and perhaps a tinge of guilt in her voice, too. “It is what it is.”

  David had been a mean brother all Mac’s life—temperamental and neglectful in his brotherly duties, but something between him and Mac had changed over the past couple years. There was something she wasn’t telling me, but I didn’t push her. I of all people knew how important it was to keep things quiet, to not let them out of their cages or risk internal chaos. There was plenty I wasn’t saying too, so I had no room to judge.