Page 56 of Storm Warning
Seriousness remains on her pretty features, but sadness resides behind those hazel eyes.
I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. “We don’t have to talk about it, but whoever didn’t climb a mountain for ya was wrong.”
Her reluctance to the subject is obvious, but so is the anger as her cheeks flush. “Rhett it’s fine. Like I said, we don’t all have to be saved. Some people suck. That’s life.”
Of course, she’s right. Some people do suck and that won’t ever change, but leading with the assumption that they are, should. I do my best not to say something that will upset her. I can tell that life has programmed her this way and it’s not a flaw, it’s a wound. One I hope to heal.
Looking around her room, I spot two doors, a bookshelf filled with books, and more pink than I’ve ever seen in my life. “Ya like to read?”
“Yeah, a bit.” She looks toward her bookcase. “I like the escape. I’ve always found it cool how you can live through the eyes of someone else. See their world, imagine yourself right alongside them and feel what they feel. One minute you’ve found a secret passage, and the next you’re fighting off badguys, or sobbing because the author killed your favorite character.”
I like that. I think because it’s relatable, adventurous, but also because I see her eyes come to life while she thinks about it. I notice the clock on her bedside table and realize I’ve got to check on the horses and set up for our afterparty before the show tonight, but I also don’t want to leave her just yet.
“Ya got a bathroom up here.”
“Through there.” She points toward the door on the right side of her far wall.
“It have a shower?”
“It does.” A sly look crosses her face.
“Show me the way.” I reciprocate her expression, helping her up from the bed before wrapping my arms over her shoulders and trailing her toward the bathroom.
We cross the threshold, and I release my grasp. The space is just as girly as the rest of her house. Bright blue everywhere, a frilly shower curtain, a hand towel that matches, and an entire shelf filled with lotions and body sprays above her toilet. Everything, though there’s a lot, has a place.
She reaches for some towels while I survey her collection.
Love Spell.
Well that’s got to be what she wears, because her scent for sure casts a spell on me. She bumps into me, lurching me forward toward the toilet. I catch myself on the shelf, thankfully not sending it to the floor. Looking down, I see the buckle from earlier tossed in the otherwise empty trash bin next to the toilet. I reach in and grab it and damn near gasp when I realize what it is.
What the hell is going on? And why is the very rider I looked up to my whole life’s buckle in the trash?
33
KAYLEE - JULY 24, 2004
When didthis room get so small?
I make eye contact with Rhett, ready to apologize for nearly sending him into the toilet, but the moment I meet his widened gaze, my heart skips a beat. He raises his hand, opening it to reveal my dad’s buckle.
Fuck. I forgot it was here. I still don’t want this conversation, but how do I get out of it now? I don’t want his pity and there’s no doubt I’ll find it within the confines of my story. Best case scenario, he will no longer see me as bold by choice, but strongbecauseI had to be. I will no longer be fierce by nature, but forced by lack of nurture. I will be less than, and, once again, my dad will get center stage.
“Why’s this in the trash?” Rhett’s eyes don’t meet mine as his fingers trace the bull rider on the gold buckle.
Unfortunately, that gives me the courage to lie. “I found it on the ground. It’s all banged up so I just tossed it.”
“Ya know what this is?” He looks at me only long enough to see me disagree.
Another lie.
He remains in a trance, circling his thumbaround the shape of the buckle. “Ya literally found gold. Like, not just cuz it’s made of it, but one of the best riders of all fuckin’ time won this.” His excitement is palpable and so is my heart racing in my chest. But, unfortunately, no longer in a good way.
Nausea hits me faster than my emotions do.
One of the best riders of all time? Try the biggest piece of shit to walk the planet.
“You like it?” I don’t know why those are the first words to pass my lips, but I’m spiraling and the only way to get out of this is away from it. The room is like a carousel spinning fast. I’m dizzy. Confused. How am I supposed to explain this?
