Vagrant: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Voss, Deja

  Tucker doesn’t exactly look thrilled. He’s been kind of temperamental all morning, and he even tried to make excuses for not coming, telling me he wasn’t feeling good.

  “Not gonna work, dude,” I said to him. “If you’re not feeling good, then you definitely need to go to the doctor.”

  He begged me not to come with him. Told me he was an adult and could handle it on his own. I didn’t trust him to go without me, as awful as that sounds.

  Dr. Rose does a basic exam, checking his eyes and ears, listening to his breathing, and having him do some general tests to see how his motor function is working. Everything looks good.

  “Well, you appear to be quite healthy. I can tell you take good care of yourself.”

  “Thanks, Doctor,” Tucker says. “What do I owe ya?”

  “Not so fast,” I say. “You need to tell him about what’s been happening lately.”

  The doctor looks at him with interest and Tucker just rolls his eyes at me.

  “Listen, I understand that you’re coming to me because, for whatever reason, you think you don’t want to be found or else you’d be at the hospital right now. I understand that your privacy is important to you, but if you’re having symptoms, it could be something underlying; something that I can’t see on the surface. I promise your secrets are safe with me. Why do you think I am still in business after being called a fraud and having my license stripped. I know how to keep a secret and so do my patients.”

  “Tell him about the flashbacks. Tell him the stuff that we worked on last night!” I urge.

  “Molly, I know you’re trying to help,” Dr. Rose says, “but I think you need to leave the room.”

  “What?” I stammer.

  “Go on,” Tucker says. “It’s nothing personal, Molly.”

  It’s totally personal, but I can’t be so selfish. If it means him getting the help and treatment he needs, I just have to accept whatever is going to be said behind these closed doors isn’t any of my business.

  I go out into Dr. Rose’s living room and sit on the couch. I was going to talk to Tucker before I hit this button, before I submitted this story to Josh. The story that will hopefully get me the answers that I want, but if we’re doing secrets, then I’ll just have to face the consequences later. He’ll have to understand that it’s just for his own good.

  For our own good.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Tucker:

  “Can you make them stop?” I ask the doctor. “The flashbacks.”

  “Oh, son,” he chuckles. “You want me to erase your mind? You’re already very fortunate that you’re not a vegetable or dead.”

  It was worth a shot. I know it seems silly, selfish, even crazy, but until I started having these visions, until I started living in two different realities, my life was really good.

  Our life was really good.

  If I could do it all over again, I’d make up a totally different story. I’d tell her a different version of the truth. That I’m a man who wanted a fresh start and that my past is completely irrelevant. How I got there is nobody’s business. Back to square one, where I am just a random mountain man who wants to hunt and fish and love his woman.

  I’d stifle all the noise. All the flashbacks and weird shit coming out of my mouth. I’d blame it on dreams. Or my imagination. I’d sweep it under the rug.

  “Honestly,” the doctor says, “and this is my professional opinion, all these visions and dreams you’re having right now, you’re doing the right thing. You need to write them down. You need to figure out what’s triggering them.”

  “So I can find out who I was?”

  “That, or…” He doesn’t finish his sentence.

  “So I can figure out how to stop doing those things.”

  “I didn’t say it. I don’t know what you’re hiding from, Tucker, but sometimes people just need a fresh start. I don’t think you sustained any sort of trauma to your head, but I do think this amnesia is your way of repressing things. Things you don’t want to face.”

  It’s kind of a relief knowing that a professional doctor, or at least someone who used to be one, thinks I’m healthy.

  “I’m sure you’ve thought of the repercussions of your choices to go unfound, though. First of all, if you’re going to ever legitimately function in society, you’re going to need ID. There’s ways to get those things.”

  I nod. I understand that this guy might not be 100 percent on the up and up, but I get what he’s saying.

  “Then there’s the morality of it all. That’s something you’re going to have to be willing to either accept or let go of. Did you leave behind any children? Do you want them to have to go through life not knowing what happened to their father?”

  I really don’t think I have children. The only relationship that I keep coming back to is mine with Mary. Mary would never go for kids. Mary would only go for Mary.

  “If not kids, are there people in your life that you were close to? People that rely on you? Maybe a parent or a friend or a wife?”

  In my initial dream, I was helping my dad hunt for an elk to provide for our family. But the more I started falling down that hole, the more ‘recent’ the visions, I seemed to be in great financial shape.

  “There ARE people in my life that I AM close to,” I say. “People who rely on me now. Those are the people that I worry about.”

  “Well, it’s not my job to be the morality police. And I can’t help you get a fake ID, so don’t even ask,” he chuckles. “It sounds like you have a good head on your shoulders. It sounds like you’re a happy guy. I don’t think the old lady is too fond of the whole situation, and smoothing that out is going to be all on you.”

  I don’t know how I’m going to make this right with Molly. I can’t string her along much longer. She wants answers more than I do. I need to figure out a way to show her that our life can be perfect just as it is.

  I think I do know a way I can buy a little time though while I figure out what my next move is going to be. I thank the doctor and pay him with a handful of cash.

  She’s sitting on the couch in the living room, looking a little happier than I expected after pushing her out.

  “I’m sorry,” I say to her. “I just had to talk to him about some man stuff. You know.”

  “Tucker, I’ve seen your dick. You wanted to talk to him about some stuff you don’t feel comfortable talking to me about. I get it. It’s not like we’re married. I’m not entitled to every single detail of your life.”

  I’m surprised at how well she’s taking it. She sounds sincere. I hold her hand in mine as we walk out the door.

  “What now?” she asks.

  “I’m going to go get your gun back.”

  “You sure you don’t want to just go to the police? I don’t like the thought of those guys being mad at you.”

  “Who cares?” I ask. “Since you’re not doing the story anymore, and it’s not like we have any really important ties here, I was thinking maybe we could consider moving.”

  “Moving?” she asks.

  “You’re the only person that’s important to me,” I tell her. “Maybe some traveling might jog my memories a little more. None of these flashbacks started happening until I went on that trip. Maybe I need to see some more places to get some more ideas.”

  She looks kind of skeptical and I don’t blame her. I’m sure she’s wondering what my motives are. She’s probably wondering what my endgame is, because after I said all that out loud, I realized how ridiculous it sounds, even to me. My only endgame is to buy some more time. Get her so distracted that she lets this whole missing person thing drop for a little bit. Go to a place where the two of us can start all over again, get back to that first day I met her. The innocence.

  Go through all the things normal couples go through when they start a relationship. I’ll find work no matter where I go. I’ve proven my skills. She can work wherever she feels like. We do fine in the bus. We can stay there until we decide to
settle down.

  “Anywhere you want,” I say.

  While I’m up on the mountain trying to buy Molly’s gun back, I’m going to see how I can go about getting a fake ID. I’m sure if anyone has connections to that sort of seedy activity, it’s one of the guys.

  “What do you think about a fall wedding?” I ask her. “I mean, we can go to Vegas now, but I think you deserve a little more than that.”

  “What the hell did that doctor do to you?” she laughs.

  “He helped me realize that YOU are the only thing that matters. I want to spend the rest of my life taking care of you.”

  “I’m not saying no,” she says. “But there are a lot of things we need to take care of before we can get into getting actually married. How can I take your last name when you don’t even have one?”

  “We’ll figure it out as we go, Molly. I promise I’ll get you a ring soon.”

  “I don’t want a ring,” she giggles. “I want something I can hyphenate Hill with.”

  “How about I just go get you your gun?” I ask, shrugging.

  “That’ll do for now.”

  “And when I get back we can practice consummating our marriage.”

  She rolls her eyes at me and pecks me on the cheek. We split ways, her heading off to the campground and me heading towards the mountains. It’s going to be a long hike, but it’ll be worth it. When I get back, we can start plotting our next move.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  When I get to the Vagrant camp site, there’s not a soul to be found. It’s like a ghost town. The fire has dwindled to smoldering ash, and plates from breakfast are piled up in the wash bin.

  “Hello?” I call out. It’s an unusual scene. Typically, Mitch is hanging around nearby.

  The four-wheelers are missing, so they must all be out on a mission together.

  I know it goes against everything being a Vagrant is about, but I really do need to find that gun and get it back to Molly. It’s really the only way for me to calm her down for the time being.

  I go into the supplies tent, the place where we keep all our group rations. I look around the makeshift shelves. There’s food, there’s liquor, some power tools, and a generator. Lots of water bottles and hygiene stuff. All of our hunting rifles and bows are neatly stored in their cases. I’m not seeing any handguns, though.

  There’s a stack of neatly folded laundry. Jeans and socks and t-shirts, and boots lined up on the floor. I still don’t see a gun, but something else catches my eye.

  It’s a shiny little rectangular card.

  North Carolina Driver’s License, it reads across the top in blue and pink. The face looking back at me is one that I know well, albeit clean-shaven.

  Jesse Drakeman, born 8/1/1984

  Well, I don’t know much about much, but I do know I have a birthday coming up.

  And a name.

  I slide the ID into my pocket. The world’s mysteries are all contained within this little piece of plastic. Every solution to the problems that Molly thinks I have.

  It feels like it’s burning a hole in my pocket. I don’t know why I’m so afraid of what this little plastic thing might mean to my life, our relationship, and everything I know about life.

  I don’t know if I’m going to be able to hide it from her long enough to figure out what I should actually do with it.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  I take my time on my hike home. You’d think I’d be full on sprinting, so eager to share the news with my woman, but my lungs feel like they won’t fill all the way with air. My legs feel weary. I stop and rest whenever I feel like it. It’s not a really long hike, and normally I can crush it out in less than an hour, but I just keep stopping.

  When I get back to the campground, I hear Dolly’s familiar bark emanating from the bus. All the lights are out except for the nightstand lamp. She’s probably not there. Maybe this is a good thing. Maybe I can do a little research on my own and decide how I want to proceed from here.

  “Out for groceries,” the Post-it Note on the fridge reads. “Love you, XO” in her cute little scrawl. I grab Dolly and plop her up on the bed with me. I pull out the laptop, opening it up.

  The first thing that pops up is an email from Josh.

  “Nice work, Molly,” it says. “You never fail to deliver. This is going to go viral in no time.” It’s followed by a link.

  I shouldn’t snoop. She hasn’t really told me that she’s working on anything of substance, just that she dropped the Vagrant story. We’ve been busy literally every second since we got home, so I can’t imagine she’s had much time to put something that great together.

  I close the laptop and pull the ID out of my pocket.

  If I’m going to be open with her about my past, then I need to know what’s going on in her present, I convince myself.

  I open it back up and click on it.

  Rage flows through me as I see the headline, the picture; I don’t even continue beyond the first paragraph. I slam it shut and wander out into the setting sun.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Molly:

  I think I just got proposed to today. At least that’s the way Tucker made it seem. Part of me is so excited. The thought of starting my life with the man of my dreams, the man who I love more than anyone in the entire world, is something that I’ve always wished for but never imagined would happen, being a nomad like myself.

  Part of me is stuck on the logistics of it all. Until he faces his past, I can’t fully commit myself to him because who knows? I might not be able to marry him due to any past obligations he already has.

  Hopefully the article I sent to Josh will help solve some of the mysteries looming.

  It’s getting dark as I make my way back from the grocery store with lots of supplies in hand. Our cupboards are pretty bare after being out of town for the weekend, and I went to town on the leftover pizza already. He’s been up and down the mountain today, so he’s probably starving.

  I get to the bus. All the lights are on, and the door is unlocked.

  “Hi, babe,” I say, not really paying attention as I begin unpacking the groceries in the little efficiency kitchen. I can smell his cologne, I can tell he was here, but he’s nowhere to be found. Maybe he went to take a shower or something.

  I open my laptop to check my email and I’m absolutely horrified with what is displayed across the screen. It’s an article with my name on it.

  The headline is not something I would ever write in a million years. Not something I’d put my reputation on the line for, not even something that I would even utter from my lips.

  I Got Duped—How I Let a Vagrant Homeless Man Infiltrate my Life and my Bed

  The article was supposed to bring awareness and attention to Tucker. It was supposed to get his face out to the public in hopes that someone would recognize him. I wanted to show the world what a good man he is, and that not all people who don’t live conventional lifestyles are scumbags. Show off his drawings, the work he’s done for local businesses.

  Instead, I’m staring down some seedy-looking trash tabloid article about how I am an idiot who sleeps with strangers who take advantage of me.

  I know he’s seen it. I can tell by the fact that it’s open on the screen. It’s fucking killing me. I don’t know where he is right now, but I need to find him. I need to grab him and tell him I would never do this to him. I need to talk to him right now so we can get this mess straightened out.

  It’s already dark. Trying to trek up into the mountain and find the campsite, even though I’ve been there a few times before, is going to be definitely dangerous and damn near impossible. I don’t even have my gun to protect me. I feel so helpless, and having to sit here until the sun comes up and ruminate on what he’s feeling right now is going to be absolutely torturous.

  I pull out my phone and call Josh. If I’m going to have to sit here and sulk, I at least owe him an earful.

  “Molly!” he says cheerfully after only a single ring
.

  I don’t even have words for him. My hands are trembling. Tears are pouring from my eyes.

  “You fucked me, Josh,” I finally stammer.

  “I saved you. What’s wrong? Your little boyfriend doesn’t like money?”

  “I didn’t ask for this. You manipulated me. You know I would never write something like that. You made me look like a fucking joke.”

  “Molly, this story is legit viral. It’s already getting more attention than anything you’ve ever written. Even your veteran’s piece. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? To bring attention to Tucker’s story?”

  “I wanted to find out where he belongs. I wanted to find out his past.”

  “I’m sure you’re going to,” Josh says. “I have media outlets all over the country chomping at the bit to book you two for morning shows.”

  “Well, tell them no.”

  “That doesn’t seem like a smart choice, Molly.”

  “He’s gone, Josh. And I’m done. Lose my number.”

  “You know how much I care about you, Molly. I swear this was for your own good.”

  “You don’t know what my own good is. That’s only something I can decide!” I shout, hanging up.

  And yet, I did what I did for Tucker’s own good. Against his will. Without his knowledge. It wasn’t my choice. I made the decision for him. And now I’m certain that he’ll definitely never forgive me.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Tucker:

  This is the first time that I’ve felt “homeless” since my accident. The first time I’ve felt completely alone in the world.

  I mean, the guys on the mountain took me in from day one, made me feel like I had a family. Even though I didn’t feel like I had much purpose in my life, I at least had people I liked being around.

  Then I found Molly and everything changed for the better. She took me in to her life, she made me feel whole, she made me feel like I had finally found my place in the world, and finding out that all of that was some big fat lie for some sort of publicity stunt has me pissed.