Laurel.
Her eyes shoot daggers into me. Her long, caramel brown hair flows in the wind, and her perfectly manicured nails tap away at the hard case over her cell phone. I’m not sure when or how but Laurel has made her way to within a foot of where I’m standing. My grip tightens on the saddle horn, as I can smell the all too familiar scent that radiates off her. She’d always wear that perfume whenever she barrel raced back in high school with our group at the ranch. The only problem was she never wanted to get her hair messed up or her couture clothing dirty.
Dumb skank.
Even worse images of that dumb skank with Jake have bile now rising in my throat. Then, my blood boils as I remember him saying how he and Laurel had sex in the barn. The same fuckin’ barn we were just in less than ten minutes ago.
The sound of her prissy, smug voice filters through my head, and I’m seething. No, I want to rip her freakin’ hair out strand by strand until she’s bald. Yes, that would bring me joy, but my mind suddenly processes what she said.
“I’m sorry, Laurel. Did you intend for that little jab to hurt me?” I say as I pull the stirrup down one notch before Jake makes his way around the backside of my horse. His hand settles on the small of my back as I pull the leather belt down tight.
“Everything okay, Luce?” Jake asks from behind me. I can’t turn around to look at him. If I do, I’ll see him with Laurel instead of me in my mind, and I know that awkwardness would be inevitable. But, I can’t show her my jealous side, or she will stab a knife into my back and twist until I can no longer be a burden. She’s hated me since the day she knew Jake wanted me over her.
Laurel is the upper-class townie that worked for minimum wage at the ranch, even though she was part of a family that lived in the gated community where only people that made more than six digits a year lived. Jake’s parents’ ranch was worth a shit ton of money, but his parents would never flaunt that, and although the house where Jake lives now is considered luxurious compared to the little Victorian my parents own, the Galloway family never rubbed their worth in my face. Laurel… well, she’s the exception.
I pull the reins from the fence tie, and with my stirrup secure and ready, I grab the saddle horn and shove my foot into the metal hole. Jake puts his hands on my hips. “Don’t! I’ve got it,” I spurt at him, subduing my emotions but keeping my head straight ahead.
“Luce…”
I hear the discontent in his voice, but I can’t say anything in front of Laurel. Andrea shows up along the opposite side of my horse and adjusts the length of my other stirrup. As she puts my foot into the metal brace, she looks up at me before handing me the other dangling rein and pulls down my pant leg. Her eyes are soft and kind, just as I remember. Her hand reaches up and touches my knee. “She’ll never be you in his eyes,” Andrea whispers, and I know she’s talking about Laurel. She means for me not to take Laurel’s comment to heart, but damn, if I’m going to let that twatwaffle walk all over me.
As Andrea walks away, she glances at Jake and gives him a stern eye before turning to Laurel and asking her to come back into the office with her to go over some paperwork. Just as Laurel walks past Jake, I turn my head and open my mouth, knowing I will get the last word with her. And I will make sure Jake knows exactly what she said to me before he came over.
“Hey, Laurel,” I snap, and she turns to look at me stare down at her. “Next time you want to say you know a good plastic surgeon who can make scars disappear, you might want to consult with your own beautician who clearly isn’t covering your roots properly or threading those eyebrows perfectly. Oh, and from what I can see from up here, your upper lip could really use a new bleaching. I sure hope you didn’t have the same issue when they bleached your asshole, too!” The look of fire and death shoots from her body, and I know I hit a nerve. Her beauty has always been her asset, and without it, she’s nothing. I ride my horse a little closer to where she’s standing. “If you make another comment to me about something you don’t know shit about, Laurel, you better think twice before you speak. The last I checked you might have had Jake for one drunken night, but I’m the one who’s been in his heart all these years.” Laurel’s scowl tells me I have my accusations right. She’s completely fake. Her pompous grin begins to drop, and I know I’ve struck a chord somewhere. Almost instantly, she laughs and mutters something about Jake not wanting a piece of ass as classless as me under her breath.
Rage builds within my body, and I feel my blood start to boil. My eyes narrow upon her designer clothes and tall stick-thin frame, and my anger gets the better of me. I kick my foot out of the right stirrup and quickly swing my leg back over the back of the horse. My other foot falls out easily, and my feet hit the dusty ground with a thud. I instantly turn to storm over toward her. As I stand toe-to-toe with her, my body trembles with fury. Her egotistical grin returns when she thinks she’s had the last laugh. I don’t even feel it coming until my fingers twitch at my side and my palm connects with Laurel’s cheek.
I watch her stumble back a few shaky steps and hold her hand against the side of her face.
“Tell me something, Laurel. What do you think you’re going to gain out of this? It’s a lose-lose situation for you. Jake said so himself. He never had feelings for you. So, whatever game you’re trying to play here isn’t going to work. I’m not the same girl who left here. Roller derby has been quite helpful when it comes to throwing an elbow in sticky situations. You inult me again, and I’ll add a black eye to match that cheek.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice SJ and Jake making their way in our direction cautiously. I know I probably shouldn’t have hit Laurel, but damn, if she wasn’t asking for it. And honestly, she was wearing on my last nerve. She was annoying in high school, but now, she’s even more of a manipulative bitch.
I stare down into my open palm and see the redness forming from slapping Laurel. As I look up, I notice her getting ready to spout out some other threatening remark. I beat her to the punch before she can get out another insult. “Maybe if you stopped being so shallow, Laurel, you'd actually realize that beauty doesn't always win the hearts of all men. You should ask SJ what his feelings on the subject are. You know, since you are dating him and all.”
Laurel’s face turns a bright shade of red, and fear settles in her eyes before she turns abruptly and her leather boot-covered feet truck their way back to the house. I watch as SJ runs up next to her. As he reaches out to try to run his hand over her face, she quickly swats his hand away and storms through the front door to the house.
The moment she’s out of sight, I feel Jake’s presence near me. Not once since the attack has anyone been able to make me see my scar as a hindrance. Perhaps they have, but I have never wanted to admit that it will always be the first thing someone sees when they look at me now.
SJ stands there staring at the door for what seems like forever just waiting for her to come back outside. A part of me believes deep down he honestly cares for her despite her inability to get over Jake, but those questions can all be addressed another day.
Jake comes around from behind my horse to hand me the reigns again. “Luce, what did she say that upset you so much?” he asks. My mind and body might be radiating with anger, but inside I’m hurting. For the first time since leaving the hospital, someone has verbally acknowledged my injury. If it were a simple question directed at me, it wouldn’t hurt nearly as much as it does right now. Would it? Laurel was deliberately pointing out a flaw in me. Her only way to fight has been to verbally hurt others when she knows she can’t win any other way. Clearly, nothing has changed in her over the years.
I know my roller derby teammates back home would never make me feel as though my scars define who I am. They have always seen beyond the physical imperfections. We battle on the track, and scars and bruises are typically part of our life. I’ve been fortunate enough not to have anything more than a sprained wrist and some bruises here and there, but in my everyday nine-to-five job that’s waiting
for me when I get home, what happens then? What happens when I go back to the salon? It’s not as though my clients won’t ask, but will they judge me the same as Laurel did? Is Laurel right? Should I consider the alternative and see a plastic surgeon about reducing the appearance of the scar tissue? I already know the answer before I finish my thought.
You can take away the physical appearance all you want, but the memories will always be there.
I quickly move around Jake and get right back up on my horse and tighten my grip on the leather reigns between my fingers. “Luce? Talk to me.” I hear Jake’s voice through my clouded head of random thoughts. My eyes trail down to see him rubbing my knee with his thumb before slightly squeezing it. He must sense something is going on with me. I’m never one to hold back my thoughts and feelings, but right now, I can’t find the words. “It’s nothing. C’mon. Let’s get going. You lead the way. I’ll be right behind you.” And just like that, Jake makes his way over to Roman Numeral, shoving his boot into the stirrup and mounting him effortlessly.
I quickly adjust myself in the saddle and push my legs down to get a feel for the riding position. It’s been far too long since I’ve ridden a horse. I give Pumpkin Pie a little nudge with my heel to get him trotting. Jake is right behind me and pulls up along my side just as we are making it to the start of the trail. We wind through the flat trail between lush aspen and evergreen trees. The fresh air calms my nerves, and any anger that might have lingered is long gone. The leather western saddle squeaks with each subtle movement I make. The sounds of birds in the trees and flowing water remind me of why this has always been my favorite trail. After a few short silent moments, we come to the clearing in the trail and stop at the rushing stream.
Jake lets his horse drop his head to grab a drink of water. I allow my eyes to travel across the expanse of everything around me. Even in July, the mountains still contain a hint of winter on their peaks, the open field of wildflowers varies in color and size, and the air is so clean and refreshing that it all becomes overwhelming. As I pat the neck of my horse, I struggle to find the words that haven’t been said once since the day I left here.
“Jake,” I softly say as I turn my head in his direction.
“Yeah, Luce?” Jake leans over his saddle horn on his elbows.
“I’ve missed this place,” I answer, my voice shaking.
“I’ve missed you.” His voice reveals nothing but honesty and a desire that I’ve never heard before. Until yesterday, I would have only guessed he was still that cocky boy I once knew, but now I truly realize all of this is more than just me recuperating from the attack. This is my time to finally recover and let go of how we split years ago, and I’m ready to finally admit I should have come home much sooner because Jake is and always will be my heart, soul, and fire. He can tell me he’s missed me all he wants, but the truth is right here, and before I have a chance to think before I speak, the words seep from my mouth.
“I think I’ve missed you more.”
I can’t take back the words, and I’m not sure I want to.
“Don’t be so sure about that.” Jake winks at me and quickly takes off across the stream. “Let’s go, Slowpoke. We don’t have all day for this lunch date.”
I give Pumpkin Pie a harder little kick with my heel to get him moving across the stream as water flies up from his heavy steps in the shallow water. Jake continues ahead, and I smile as I see him pull his ratty old baseball cap from the saddlebag and place it upon his head. The moment I catch his head angle and his big brown eyes staring back at me, my chest aches and my head is instantly off on another planet. His smile is even more deadly since it’s reserved for just me right now. Then again, he did tattoo my name on his back.
When I’m back on the trail, I give a slight clicking sound and squeeze my knees into Pumpkin Pie. We trot a little faster to catch up with Jake, and as soon as I’m by his side, I lower my ass back in the saddle. Pumpkin Pie lets out a little snort as he catches his breath, and I’m shocked at how quickly my body remembers the techniques of riding horses.
I catch my breath and pat the neck of my horse before looking up at Jake. With an arrogant grin and raised eyebrow, he looks at me.
“What?” I ask with a raised pitch.
“Show off,” he playfully states before reaching out and pushing the brim of my hat down over my eyes. The sound of heavy hooves stomping tells me he’s moving again, and I push the hat brim back up so I can see. I hear him laughing as he takes off ahead of me into the trees.
I’m still laughing when I finally catch up. When the trees pass, my laugher subsides, and I glance around at the vastness of the space. I suddenly remember why this is our place. My absolute favorite place to go with Jake.
The sun beats down over the alpine tundra and sparkles over the small pond that is situated at the bottom of the mountain. We may not have gained any additional elevation on the trail, but the ranch was already a little higher than the town, so the view has always been spectacular at this place. I can look down on the small ski town and see everything from afar.
Little pikas, that always remind me of baby gerbils, scurry into their holes as I dismount from the horse. I pull Pumpkin Pie over to the pond so he can grab a drink of water if needed. As I take in the clear blue sky, the wind whistles through the trees, and I inhale the aromas that only the wilderness can give me.
I hear Jake moving behind me, and when I turn to see what he’s doing, my eyes widen with surprise. He’s laid out an old blanket, and it’s littered with small platters of fruits and cheeses. I see him pouring two glasses of wine as he walks in my direction.
He reaches out to hand me a glass of red wine, and I’m speechless. As my eyes try to process everything about him since he came back into my life, my chest warms and tingles. Suddenly, I feel like a nervous teenager about to be asked out by the guy she’s crushed on for years, except this time I realize I love the man before me, more than I ever did as a teenager.
I bring the claret colored liquid to my lips and take a sip. The slight spice and vanilla hit my tongue, and I know instantly it’s Malbec. Thank you, Sam, for all my wine tasting lessons. The liquid continues warming its way down the back of my throat. My eyes remain focused on Jake as I watch him sip his wine as well. I never took him for a wine drinker, but I guess there’s a lot you can miss in seven years away. He bends over to place the capped wine bottle onto the grass before standing up again.
His hand stretches out and cups my jaw, and then his thumb brushes over my cheek. My body shudders at his simple touch, and yet I want to fly into his arms and kiss his glossy wine-covered lips. I bring my hand up to cover his and move my body closer to him.
I tilt my head back just enough that my hat falls off and hits the ground softly. I peer into his wondering eyes and think of all the things I could say, but nothing forms on my lips. The more I inch forward, the faster my heart races, and I can see his chest rising and falling in time with my own.
I stop my feet just as my chest bumps into his hard abs. I lick my lips before lifting them closer to him, needing to finish what we started in the barn earlier. Screw my reservations! Life is too short, and I’ve learned that the hard way. I’m here with him now, and I’m not about to lose this moment because my mind keeps giving me reasons not to.
As my lips are about to touch his, I feel the warmth of his closeness disappear. My eyes open, and I see he’s backed away and standing with his eyes closed. I can’t begin to understand why. My lips part, and my head slowly shakes as I question his reasoning for backing away. “Jake?”
His eyes finally open, and he looks at me. The brim of his baseball cap hides some of his emotions from me.
“Luce, there’s something I need to tell you before we go any further.” The seriousness in his voice unexpectedly causes me to become nervous.
“After Dad died and you never came back, I fell into a dark place. I drank. I drank a fuckin’ lot. I didn’t know which way my life was headed. I had lost tw
o of the most important people in my life at the same time. That’s when everything with the women started. I tried to fill that hole in my chest by having drunken sex with girls.
“Laurel was the first mistake of my actions. SJ helped me stop drinking, but that hole in my heart was still there. That’s when I got the tattoo and started working at the fire station. I needed to have a direction and a way to take out my frustration over losing you for good. The ranch reminded me of you, so I tried to stay clear of here as much as possible. But, that meant hanging out in town with the guys, and the women just started happening over the years. I never dated any of them. Every one of them meant shit to me, and after every fuck, I felt like I lost another piece of you within me.”
I can tell Jake is getting frustrated. He keeps rubbing the back of his neck and scratching the light scruff on his chin.
“Luce, what I’m trying to say is… I fucked up. I know that. So many times I hoped you’d come back to me. Now, that you’re back here… I just… Luce, I love you. I never stopped. You’re embedded in my heart, and I can’t ever rid myself of you. I need to say I’m sorry for everything I ever did to hurt you before you left and everything I did while you were gone. “
Jake continues to mumble under his breath as though so much is weighing on his mind. I can sense there is much more he wants to say, but he just can’t find the right words. I know that feeling all too well. I place my palm upon his heart and feel the rapid beating through his shirt.
“Shhhh…. Hey, it’s all right. We’ve both made bad choices over the years, and some of them were real shitty. What’s done is done. We can’t change that. We can only use those mistakes to help make our future choices smarter. So, from here forward, no matter what happens between us, we make decisions that feel right for us. How does that sound?”
Jake lets out a long, deep breath as though a weight has finally been lifted off his shoulders after so many years. He lifts his glass of wine to his lips and drinks the remainder before bending over to grab the bottle on the ground in the same hand with the glass. He turns slightly and reaches back to grab my free hand, pulling me with him as he walks back to the blanket on the ground.
Burning Barriers (Barriers Series Book 3) Page 9
