“Wherever you’re going,” Beth or Betsy or whatever her name replies.
I take another pull of my cig and blow rings of smoke into the night sky. “You live around here?”
“Not far.”
“Hold up. I’ll follow you.”
As I climb into my truck, the same voice in my head begins yelling, telling me this is a bad idea, but I stomp it out just like my cigarette butt. Screw it. I’m too full of blind anger to care right now. I’m here in New Jersey waiting for her, pining for her, carrying my heart in my hands, and she’s over in Texas with someone else.
I follow the Mazda to a run-down building on the far side of town. When what’s-her-name gets out, I half-wonder if she’s going to rob me. Ghetto is an understatement. There’s a dope-head passed out on the stoop of her complex, and all of the windows have bars on them. The first thing that rolls through my mind is we’re not in Kansas anymore. The second is, I hope my truck doesn’t get stolen and shredded for parts.
My date for the night (Belinda?) leads me up a disheveled stairwell, past broken doors and cracked walls—and a few crackheads for that matter—to a door with so many locks, I’m worried what she’s hiding inside. Turns out, there’s nothing of value in there. Just a shitty couch, an old box television, and a kitchen table with a broken leg. The whole place smells like spoiled milk and sadness.
Now that I’m here, I just want to get this over with. I grab her by the waist and smash her against me. The stink of booze and cheap perfume is nauseating. At the bar, she was a hot little number, but here in the crack house of shame, she just looks skanky.
What am I doing? This isn’t going to make me feel better. It’s only making me feel worse. I can’t just fuck Casey out of my system. My feelings for her are deeper than that. She’s who I want. Not another one-night stand. Casey. My beautiful, homegrown, Texas bombshell. But she broke my heart, and I don’t know how to handle it.
A sudden attack of conscience pummels me as Bella starts to work my fly. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I gotta go.”
20
Casey
The summer heat is oppressive, even as the sun goes down. It’s too hot to be outside but too tense to be inside. It’s been two weeks since our fight, and Austin hasn’t brought it up again, but its lingering presence makes the air around us heavy whenever he enters a room. Much like he is now.
The floorboards creak under his weight as he sits next to me on the porch. The smells of soap and clean laundry enter my personal space. “What are ya doing out here?”
I’ve taken to spending my time in Gran’s chair, watching the fireflies dance in the evening sky. Every day when I’m finished with work, I come out here with a beer, listen to music, and think. AJ hasn’t returned any of my calls. It’s been a week since I’ve heard from him, and I miss him so much my whole body aches.
“Just enjoyin’ the quiet.”
At least, I was.
“Seein’ your face the other month was like waking up from a nightmare, but every mornin’ since, I relive it. I can’t do it again, Casey Jane, so I’m askin’ you point blank. You stickin’ around this time?”
I shrug as I bring the cold beer to my mouth, wetting my dry lips. Might as well. AJ is the only thing I have to go back to, but a woman can only try so hard before taking the hint. If he doesn’t want me anymore, I have no reason to return.
“S’pose so.”
He tips his bottle in the same fashion, following my gaze out into the grassy pasture that stretches out in front of us. “Then I reckon a truce is in order.”
His warm gaze falls on me, but I continue looking out into nothing and sipping my beer as if I don’t feel it melting the skin off my bones. He holds out his large hand, watching and waiting for me to take it. I do, but he doesn’t shake it, just holds it like it breathes new life back into his hollow shell.
I sure made a mess of everything. Wrecked it up good. My life, my relationships, all of it doomed to fail from the start. The only thing I have is this ranch, and considering the mountain of paperwork on Gran’s desk, I’m not sure that I’ll have it much longer. She was organized, and I’m lucky in that regard, but she was also behind on everything. She wasn’t charging nearly enough for her boarding services, and the riding lessons dwindled down to practically nothing after I left. Fate really knows how to kick a gal while she’s down.
“So what now?”
My head falls back as the remainder of my beer slides down my throat. “Another one of these.” I hand him the empty bottle, and he grins, taking it from my hand before going into the house for another.
The chirping of crickets, the crooning voice of Dierks Bentley, and the occasional creaking of the rockers are the only sounds heard while Austin and I sit watching the remainder of the sun as it disappears beyond the horizon. The pile of empty bottles on the counter has doubled in size, and my vision swims in front of me. I lost count of how many I’ve had, but I’m pretty sure most of them are mine.
“You remember how many times you snuck outta this ol’ house to meet me down at the pond?” Austin asks after a while.
“Sure do. I don’t know if I can call it sneakin’, though. Fairly certain Gran knew all about it.”
“Shit. Ol’ lady knew everything that went on around here.” His snicker echoes into the half-empty beer bottle near his lips. The moonlight casts shards of gray light onto the porch, highlighting his profile. I watch the way his head tilts back, the way his throat moves. It’s weird how he can be so different yet still be the same old Austin I always knew.
“We weren’t doin’ wrong. Just swimmin’.”
Austin's fist bounces on his knee. “I kissed you for the first time durin’ one of them swims.”
“You did. I remember.”
It wasn’t just our first kiss. It was my first kiss. The first of many. The November night had a slight chill in the air. I had snuck out the back door and ran to the pond, excited to find Austin waiting for me. His hair was longer then, his face round, his body slim. A late blooming twenty-one-year-old, adorable in every conceivable way. I had blossomed that summer. Changed from a girl to a young woman, and he finally began to notice.
“What would you do if I jumped in?” I asked, jutting my chin toward the pond.
“Well, I guess I’d have to jump in there and save you. But you ain’t gonna jump in.”
“You don’t think I’ll do it?”
“I dare ya.”
Never one to turn down a challenge, I stripped down to my bra and panties and dove in. The cold water prickled my skin. A splash burst in the water above me. I felt his body next to mine, taking me in his arms to pull me to the surface and drag me out. He ripped the blanket off the ground and wrapped it around my shoulders, rubbing his hands up and down my arms, warming them with his touch. “You’re gonna be the death of me, crazy girl.”
I put my arms around his back, covering both our wet bodies with the blanket. He smiled down at me. Pond water dripped off his nose and landed on mine. He lifted his hand and wiped it away, letting his knuckle graze down my cheek.
Hesitancy spun in his eyes. Our five-year age difference, while nothing right now, was huge back then. He was a man, holding a wet, half-naked teenage girl in his arms. “You wanna kiss me, Austin?”
“More than anythin’, baby girl.” His normally smooth voice was raspy and tense. His grip on me tightened, and the hand on my jaw slid to the nape of my neck to pull me closer.
The second his lips met mine, a breathless moan left my lungs. They never moved from my mouth, yet I still felt them everywhere. In my mind, they roamed over every bit of my skin, making me his. I was so sure that Austin was my forever. Little did either of us know, forever would only last the next couple of years.
Standing from the rocker, he offers me his hand. “Walk with me.”
I slip my hand into his, allowing him to pull me from the chair and off the porch. The world spins, and my body sways. The evening grass is damp beneath m
y bare toes as we wander through the yard. The smell of hay gives way to the scent of the soggy earth as we near the pond, and the occasional burp of a random bullfrog fights over the constant chirp of crickets. The familiarity of it all astounds me. It’s as if I never left.
Austin stops to face me and threads our fingers. “I used to sit out by this ol’ pond at night, half expectin’ you to show. I never gave up hope that you’d come back to me.” When his gaze lands on mine, I see it. Relief. Austin’s spent so much time waiting for me to be ready; I don’t know why I thought now would be any different. He’ll always wait for me.
Between the pond, the night, and Austin’s warm hands in mine, everything makes sense. This is where I belong. The pond is like this Texas town. It seems so small to the outside eye, but only a select few of us know how deep it really goes. My roots run all over these grounds, and embedded within them, now and always, is Austin.
Nevertheless, AJ is the one in my dreams at night. His haunted gaze and sexy smile still flash behind my lids every time I close my eyes. Being with him was the first time I ever felt like I belonged, but then I come down here, and this feels right too.
Two completely different men both hold two completely different pieces of my heart. My past has caught up to my present, making it impossible to move forward. It’s not fair. Not to me, and not to Austin. I can’t move on because I still want AJ.
“I thought about it a thousand times, baby girl. Now, here you are.”
“I’m here, but I’m not. A part of me still exists up north, Austin. I’m not ready to let it go yet.”
“When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting. Always.”
21
AJ
Bloodcurdling screams tear through my eardrums. I’m running, trying to find her, but the fog is so thick, and the night is so black, I can barely see my hands out in front of me. “Where are you?” I call, but the shrieks continue as if they’re coming from all directions.
Bright light beams out of nowhere, blinding me. Crunching gravel, shattering glass, and those ear-piercing screams that just won’t stop. My feet leave the ground. Am I being pulled? I don’t know, but I’m moving. Backward. A gravitational feeling sits in my gut. My back hits the cold pavement. The smell of wet blacktop fills my nose. No, it’s not blacktop. It’s ... dirt. Clean, fresh soil. It’s all around me.
Sudden silence then the sound of digging. Through the black, I see her, though she has no face. Just golden rays of sunshine yellow hair blowing in the night. I can’t move. Piles of dirt fall on my legs, my stomach, my chest. She’s burying me alive. Or maybe I’m dead.
The desperate wails begin again, louder and more shrill. I want to move, but I can’t. I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. Another pile lands on my face, but this time, it’s glass. So much glass, twinkling as it cascades down on me in slow motion.
“AJ!” The voice saying my name is haunted and hollow as if coming through a tunnel.
“AJ!” I want to go toward it. I move and fight and claw my way through the wreckage.
“AJ!” Silken strands of hair crumple in my fists. My eyes pop open, but all I see is darkness.
My eyes focus. There’s no dirt, no glass, no fog. I’m safe and sound, lying in my bed alone and mangling the sheets with my hands. The dreams have not only increased in frequency, but they have also gotten much more intense ever since she left. Even after I’m awake, they continue to torment me until I can’t stand to be in my bed anymore.
Letting Casey go out there alone was a stupid mistake. I should have gone with her, supported her. Now, I’m sitting around my lonely house worrying that I ruined what we had forever. Had I known our goodbye at the airport was the last time I’d see her, I would have held her tighter. Kissed her longer. Our romance was a whirlwind, but it was real. At least to me. Whoever made up that “it’s better to have loved and lost” bullshit is an idiot. I’d give anything not to feel this soul crushing weight that sits upon my chest and doesn’t seem to want to go away.
Knowing I’ll never be able to sleep, I swipe my phone from the side table and sweep my thumb across the smooth glass front. It comes to life, a tiny sliver of light highlighting the gorgeous ocean eyes of the most beautiful girl in the world sitting as my background image. The need to see her hits me like a bucket of water. The tip of my finger traces the outline of her face as if I’m Gollum fondling the ring whispering, “My precious.” If I don’t do something soon, I’m going to end up in the friggin’ loony bin.
I light up a smoke, contemplating my next move. It curls around my phone as I begin searching for the next available flight. I should have done this from day one. My job, my house, my life in New Jersey ... none of it matters. Nothing is as important as she is. I just hope she still wants me when I get there.
Casey said Texas was barren, but I wasn’t prepared for the full brunt of that statement. New Jersey is rich with trees and mountains, buildings and construction. There’s always a view and something to see on the horizon, whether it’s thick, dense woods or the New York City skyline. A state that was once nothing but farmland built up into an industrial wasteland. Congested and overcrowded.
The state is loud, even in the suburbs. Our home may have been alone on a wooded lot, but behind that lot is a strip mall, and beyond that, a highway. Late at night, eighteen-wheelers would thunder down the road, bumping and rumbling as they passed. The Doppler Effect sound of motorcycles racing at high speed would pollute the airwaves. I’ve gotten so used to it that I don’t even notice it anymore. It’s part of the background noise of my life.
Out here, everything is flat. The deserted land strings for miles with no end in sight. I’ve never seen anything like it before. It’s almost as if I can see to the ends of the Earth. The highway stretches out in front of me, a long line disappearing into a never-ending V with no other cars on it. It’s eerie.
Off the highway stands a small sign post with the name Grainger burned into the worn wooden plaque. Gravel crunches under my tires as I veer up the winding dirt road under a freestanding log structure announcing that Grainger Ranch is up ahead between the endless trails of white washed picket fencing on either side.
It’s a little greener over here and slightly less desolate. In the far-off distance, mountains stand proud against the evening sky. It’s beautiful. Another world. No construction, no trash, no cursing commuters veering in and out of lanes—just acres and acres of undeveloped land, pristine, untouched, and very, very dry.
It’s so quiet you can hear a pin drop. If I strain hard enough, I can hear the sleepy sounds of toads croaking by the pond or the occasional neigh of a horse somewhere on the property, but even that’s so far off it’s hardly noticeable.
Casey and I are from two very different worlds. I finally see it firsthand. Mine is a fast frenzy of loud, brash rock ‘n’ roll, while hers is a slower, simpler kind of life. One that strums a quiet tune on your heartstrings.
While hopping on the next plane to Texas wasn’t my initial plan, I am a little excited to see where Casey comes from and feel her familial roots in the place that raised her. You can learn so much from a person that way. Humans have a tendency to adapt to their surroundings, but try as they might, they can never shed where they came from. It’s an integral part of a person’s history. The biggest piece of who they are.
I park the only available rental car they had, a hideous school bus yellow Kia Soul, next to the pond down a ways from the house. It’s dusk, but it’s so hot I can barely breathe as I follow the path to Casey’s new home. With its lemonade porch and beautiful bay windows, the quaint farmhouse is something out of a storybook. There’s even a porch swing rocking in the gentle breeze passing under the overhang.
One lone light in the house is on, but no one answers when I knock on the front door. I follow the porch around, hoping to find her home, but what I find stops me in my tracks. The rhythmic clop-clop-clop of hooves echoes between the house and the barn. A majestic, black horse jogs around the t
rack, guided by the angel sitting on his back. The ends of her blond hair carry on the wind as she makes her way around the track, but the black ball cap shielding her eyes hides most of it from sight. The milky skin I see every time I close my eyes is bronze now and shines in the soft sunlight still peeking out from behind the mountains.
From the porch, I watch the way she holds the reins and squeezes her legs, commanding the beast to move faster or slower at her will. She captivates me. Owns me. I may as well sleep in the stable with the rest of the animals she controls.
Casey steers the horse toward the stable, dismounts, and disappears inside. My feet propel me forward. Hay crunches underfoot as I step lightly into the stable. “I don’t mean to stare, but you look an awful lot like this girl I used to know.”
She jumps, gasping at the sound of my voice, and turns toward me. “AJ,” she whispers. The blood drains from her face. “What are you doing here?”
How is it possible that she’s more beautiful now than she was at the beginning of the summer? I don’t even care what happened. The call, Austin, it all flew into the atmosphere the second I laid eyes on her again. The only phrase that runs through my head is I love you, but those three little words could make or break me if she doesn’t feel the same way.
“Saying I’m sorry just didn’t seem like enough.”
A lock of hair twirls around her finger, one way then the other, surrounding me in its flowery scent as she steps closer. Horses huff and puff in their stalls waiting to be tended to, but her eyes are locked on me. “So you came all the way out here?”
“Of course.” I pluck the Zildjian cap off her head and slip it onto mine. “How else was I gonna get my hat back?”
She rolls her eyes, flipping the lock of hair over her shoulder in a huff. My jokes aren’t going to cut it this time. If I want back in her good graces, I’m going to have to grovel a bit. “I’m an asshole, Case. I lost my cool, and I really am sorry. You still my girl?”
Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology Page 16
