by Jane Anthony
AJ runs a hard hand down his weary face. “No. It’s not enough. He’s not just on the ranch, he’s still in here,” he says, dropping his fingertips over my heart. “I need to be the only one inside your heart. Because you’re the only one who’s ever been in mine.”
He turns, but my grip on his arm tightens. “Don’t leave.”
“Then tell him to!” The mini drum solo in his pocket starts up a second time. He sends the caller to voicemail again.
“AJ, please understand.” The words stutter on my tongue as I try to hold back the tears I feel saturating my eyes. Staring into his sad face, the lust that consumed me just a few moments ago has vanished. Heartbreak, confusion, and regret have replaced it.
“I watched my mother die then my father. I stared death in the face a third time when he came for me, but I fought my way back and came out clean on the other side. All of that was nothing compared to this ... this slow, agonizing torture that leaves me with nothing to fight for.” His fingers trace the pink scar in his hairline, before moving his hair back in place to cover it. “After all of that, this is going to be what finally kills me. You chose him, and I can’t stay here.”
“I’m not choosing him. I love you.”
Holding back the landslide of emotions building up inside, it comes out as a whisper. I’m not sure if he heard me over the loud ringing of his phone for the third time.
With a sigh, he looks down again and slides his thumb over the screen. “Not a good time, Jameson.”
His incessant pacing stops as the pained expression falls off his face. He’s a stone. A wall. A statue, standing stock-still and staring straight through me before falling onto the corner of the bed. “What does that mean? Is she going to be all right? Okay ... Okay ... I’m coming.”
He drops his hand to his lap, still squeezing the phone in his fist. “Everything all right?”
The length of time it takes him to respond feels like an eternity. When his eyes refocus and snap to mine, all I see inside them is fear. “Have you ever heard of an ectopic pregnancy?”
My mind races back to my high school health class. “That’s when the baby grows in the fallopian tube instead of the uterus, I think. Why?”
“Jillian’s just ruptured.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
AJ
Coming here was a mistake.
I run around Casey’s room throwing everything I own into my duffel bag. The sooner I get to the airport, the quicker I can get my ass home and replace this nightmare with a new one.
“What can I do?”
“You’ve done enough, believe me,” I say, tugging the zipper on my bag closed.
“Don’t shut me out, AJ. Let me help.”
“Leave all this. Come back with me.”
A lone tear breaks over the dam of her lash line and rolls down her conflicted face. “This is my home, AJ. I’m not goin’ back.”
And there’s that swinging bat again, smashing me in the heart for the second time that morning. The wheel of emotions spins again. Past anger. Past confusion. Next stop: pain. Hearing her say it makes it too real. I ran all the way out here, but it was too little, too late. I’d already lost her.
“You’re staying because of him.”
“No.” Blond hair brushes past her shoulder as she shakes her head. My fingers tingle, wanting to slide through it, but I keep them at my sides. I can’t touch her right now. “I’m stayin’ because this is where I belong. I may have lived back East, but I wasn’t livin’. I was existing. Pourin’ drinks in a dive, goin’ about the motions like I didn’t hate every second of every day that I was there.” Another tear falls, another twisted twitch of the hand that I refuse to move to wipe it away. “Gran left me this place for a reason. I’m not gonna let her down.”
Heat radiates from her body, spreading through my chest and down my legs as she moves closer to me and rests her hand on my cheek. “You of all people should appreciate that.”
I do. I know exactly where she’s coming from, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
I turn and head down the stairs, but she follows close behind. “AJ.” Casey’s soft voice stops me at the door. Rays of morning light cascade through her kitchen windows. It’s too fuckin’ bright. I can’t stand it. The sky and the sun just remind me of Casey, and I never want to see either again.
It’s funny how just a few months can feel like years. Casey and I have spent more time apart than together, but I still can’t fathom the idea that things between us are over. I feel like the Tin Man, hollow and cavernous. If you bang on my chest, all you’d hear is an echo.
“All those things you said on the bull, marriage, children, I want that, too. Don’t leave like this. Promise you’ll come back.” She steps forward and falls against my chest. Soft hair tickles my skin. Her lips move against my neck with a mixture of kisses and mumbling, “Stay with me, stay with me, stay with me …”
My head’s not right when I’m standing this close. Her scent is all around me. Sweet notes of honey and flowers wrapped around my fingers and embedded into the fibers of my shirt. The girl gets under my skin. She’s a predator posing as a house pet, determined to eat me alive the second I let my guard down.
I try to leave, but she stops me again. “Aren’t you even gonna say goodbye?”
“How do I say goodbye to my heart?” I turn back toward the door and pull it open. The promise of a scorching day greets me, followed by the smell of hay and fresh cut grass. Without looking back, I step off the porch, feeling her gaze bore into my back.
Horses whinny in the distance. I look toward the direction of the stables one last time and see Austin saunter my way. “You win, dude. She’s all yours.”
“She was mine to begin with.”
“Whatever,” I grumble, turning away from him.
I shove in my ear buds to dull the serene sounds of Casey’s home. Taylor Swift’s ethereal voice comes through, followed by the gravelly twang of Tim McGraw. Instinctively, I start to sing along then stop myself. I know all the songs and all the names. Stupid country music has infected my heart the same way Casey has. That’s what she is. An infection. Something I caught along the way but just can’t shake, no matter how hard I try. No antibiotic can cure this horrible affliction. No. What I got, I have for life.
It’s late by the time I arrive at the house. One lonely light shines through the window, creating a creepy, horror house-type setting behind the shop. This grim, bleak atmosphere is more my speed. It’s depressing and lonely, just like my life.
I let myself in and close the door with a quiet click. A thick swatch of red-orange hair dangles off the olive colored couch pillows where Marisa lays sprawled out on her back.
What the hell is she doing here?
“Marisa.”
I gently shake her freckled shoulder. She rouses with a snort, her green eyes still consumed with sleep. “You’re back. What time is it?”
“Around one. Why are you here?”
Marisa sits up, blinking herself back to the human race. Her orange brows pinch together and a tiny pout forms along her lips. I never noticed how many freckles cover her milky skin. Without her usual war paint, she looks ten years younger. “Casey called me.”
I wait for her to elaborate, but she’s still half asleep. “And?”
“She said your family had an emergency and needed me to babysit. Your sister and James are at Crestmere Hospital. Zakk’s upstairs.”
I’m too stunned to correct her when she botches my brother-in-law’s name. Casey called in reinforcements to help my family. Why would she do that? Does she think this makes us even? Hopefully, for her, her little phone call helps her sleep soundly, but it doesn’t change the fact that she tore through my heart like tissue paper then wiped her ass with it. “I’m here now. You can go.”
Marisa’s light eyes narrow into slits. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”
“Whatever.”
“Case in point,” she snaps, rising to
her feet. “And since you failed to ask, she’s a wreck thanks to you.”
“Thanks to me? She was the one with her tongue down Austin’s throat!”
“She’s a human being. She made a mistake. And all that little kiss did was prove to her how much she loves you.”
“Right. She loves me so much she used me to make her ex-fiancé jealous.”
“If you really believe that, then you’re a bigger asshole than I thought.” Marisa shoves her feet into her shoes and grabs her stuff before heading to the door. “And by the way. Your sister came out of surgery just fine. You’re welcome.”
Jillian lies on the couch propped up on pillows, watching cheesy music videos from the eighties on Vh1 Classic. Zakk stands at the edge beside her, grasping the cushions with both hands. He lets go when he sees me and falls on his diaper-covered butt before rolling over and doing it again.
A Johnson & Johnson commercial comes on the television, and Jillian’s chocolate eyes well with tears. “Frig,” she says, wiping them away. “These damned hormones. I can’t stop crying.” When she shifts and moans, Jameson runs to her aid like a hired hand.
He hasn’t left her side for a second. If I ever doubted his devotion to my sister, I’d be a believer now. When he finally came home from the hospital, the red rings around his eyes were nothing compared to the Parkinson’s-style shaking of his hands. He was a mess. Jillian was in surgery for hours. Apparently, she’d been suffering from abdominal pain and nausea for weeks but kept it a secret. She’s always so busy taking care of everyone else that she never stops to worry about herself. This time was no different.
“The blood,” he said. “I’ve never seen a person bleed so much and live to talk about it.”
She’s been home for three days now, and every time he looks at her, I can see the relief plain as the nose on his face. If he lost her, he’d have lost himself. They complete each other in a way that’s rare and special. Apart, they were two halves, but coming together made them whole. I thought I had that with Casey, but I was wrong.
The lead singer from Zebra, a guy with the unfortunate name of Randy Jackson, screeches out of the television set, assaulting me with his words. Crying over the madness of giving everything and coming up with nothing.
Behold the bludgeoning of irony.
The weight of Jill’s stare tears my attention off the television. “You have to call her.”
I lift the brim of my cap and scratch underneath with a sigh. This conversation is pointless. Casey and I said what we needed to say. She’s staying in Texas. If circumstances were different, maybe I’d consider starting over, but I can’t. Austin’s always going to be there; the third corner in a twisted love triangle that makes none of us happy. Removing me from the equation was the only way to resolve the problem.
She still loves him.
And I love her enough to let her be happy.
My silence doesn’t stop Jill’s incessant need to mother, however. “It was sweet of you to run home for me, but I’m fine. Your obligation to me is over.”
Already, I feel the burning sting sweep across my eyes, and we’ve only tapped the surface of our chat. “Maybe I’m just meant to be alone. My purpose in life is to work and hang out. Not everyone gets a happy ending.”
“You sound like a loser when you talk like that. You had the opportunity for happiness. You blew it.”
“Let me ask you something.” My hands start their twitchy need to bang on something, but I ball them on my lap instead. “What would you do if you walked in on Jameson kissing another girl? Seriously, Jill ... what?”
She cringes at the thought. “Let me counter your question with this one: What would I have missed if I didn’t at least try to work past it?”
Zakk chants “ma ma ma ma ma” as his pudgy little hands beat against the cushion, vying for his mother’s attention. She strokes his hair and tickles under his chin. Giggly squeals erupt from his drool-covered lips, and he falls on the floor again. “What we have … it’s worth fighting for. You and Casey had it. You sat in our kitchen deflecting our questions about your new mystery woman. I saw it then.”
“All of this is moot. You forget the biggest problem here. She lives in Texas.”
“So what?”
My top lip curls. Wow, she must be loopy as hell from the meds. “So ... we live in New Jersey. I can’t leave you. You guys need me too much.”
She shimmies herself as close to sitting as her wounded abdomen will allow. “Listen to me. You’re always going to be my big brother, and my best friend, but you need to stop. I found my soul mate. You need to go find yours. Even if it means moving to Texas.”
“You’re high. What the hell am I going to do in Texas?”
“Help Casey with the ranch. You hate fixing cars anyway.”
“Why didn’t I think of that? Oh, that’s right! Because I don’t know shit about horses or ranching.”
“Yeah, but you know a ton about business. Morello and Tate is kicking ass because of you. You can do anything, AJ. You’re smart, and you’re driven. I can’t stand seeing you like this anymore.”
“Like what?”
“Empty. Brooding. When she was around, the old, fun AJ was starting to return. I miss that guy because, frankly, this new guy is shit.”
I stew on the couch while Jillian’s words sink into my thick skull. Can I really do this? If I don’t try, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, but I’m having trouble turning my back on everything I know and taking the leap.
It’s not just a new state. It’s a whole new life.
“Look,” she continues with a sigh. “I’m gonna be honest, AJ. Straight up, no bullshit—you are one of my favorite people on the planet, but you are incredibly hard to love. Casey loves you. Don’t take that for granted.”
Jill’s words are a sledgehammer to my ego, but I can’t deny them. I’m a selfish bastard. Everything has to be my way. I’m moody and arrogant, pigheaded and dismissive. Casey changes me. I’m a better man just having been with her. She moves me. She gets me dancing, makes me sing. With her, I feel invincible, lively, and playful. I want to be that AJ. Not the judgmental asshole I’ve been.
Making a big life change is scary but not nearly as much as regret. I’m done with those. I’m in love with the girl. I need her. Her effect on me is greater than all the songs, all the drum beats, and every loud, growling heavy metal vocal. She’s the rock to my roll and the soother of my soul. All this time, I expected her to fit into my life, but that was wrong. Maybe I’m supposed to fit into hers.
The opening chords to “Love Song” by Tesla float from the screen and stab me in the chest. Eyes as blue as the sky cross over my subconscious. The chorus belts out, loud and proud for all to hear. It’s a sign. Even Jillian telling me to go wasn’t enough. I needed fate to intervene, and here it is. It’s screaming at me with pure rock ballad fervor, reminding me that love will find a way.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
CASEY
“You ever gonna talk to me again, baby girl?” Austin leans against the doorframe with each thick forearm.
“I ain’t your baby,” I say without missing a beat.
“It’s been a week. How long you gonna keep this up?”
I grab the bag of Safe Choice off the shelf and start measuring it out, spilling half the contents in the process. “I haven’t decided yet. Maybe forever.”
“You can’t stay mad at me forever. We have to live together.”
“Do we, Austin?” I ask, scooping up the fallen feed. “Because I’ve been seriously contemplatin’ that.”
“Why? You going somewhere?”
I roll my eyes. He’s going to keep holding this over my head for the rest of my life. Nothing I do will ever make up for it. It’s always going to be that third person in the room hanging out between us. My monumental fuck up and the ruination of Austin Krehley. I’ve spent far too long punishing myself over it. I refuse to live like this.
“No. You are.”
Austin’s body fills the space behind me. “You are not kickin’ me off this ranch, Casey.” His already deep voice turns into a scary baritone that I’ve never heard come out of his mouth before.
“I’m not?” I challenge. “I kept you on for Gran’s sake, but I’ve about had all I can stand from you.”
“The sign out front may say Grainger, but you and I both know this here’s my land. I’ve been a slave to these pastures for the past fifteen years. You left. I stayed.”
I look up from the floor. His brown eyes darken to a menacing shade. Once warm and inviting, they now look cold and bleak. I stand. “This isn’t about me at all, is it? You don’t want me. You want the ranch.”
I suddenly see Austin in a whole new light. Sweet, kind Austin. The man who bent over backward for my family. The one who never stopped pursuing me, who wanted to marry me the second I turned eighteen. It all makes sense. He knew Gran would never leave this place to Mama, and he sure as shit knew she wouldn’t leave it to him. In order to take over, he’d have to marry in.
“You diabolical son of a bitch.”
“Hey, hey, that ain’t right.” His hand closes around my forearm, biting my skin with its rough grasp. “You and I? We’re destined. You’ll see soon enough that marryin’ me is the best choice for both of us.” His handsome face twists into a scowl.
“Austin, you’re scarin’ me.”
“Ain’t no reason to be scared, baby.” His voice is placating, but his grasp on my arm doesn’t falter. Skin bubbles between his fingers, and I’m sure I’ll have a hand-shaped bruise when he finally lets go. “Just so long as you know that I will kill you before I see you with another man. Got it?”
He jerks my arm, pulling me closer. “That hurts!”
Suddenly terrified of the man I once found far too gentle, I don’t know whether to cry or scream. Austin’s finally snapped. I can see it in his eyes. His piercing gaze bounces around my face, bopping with senseless fury. Did I drive him to this? Or was I so wrapped up in young love that I never noticed the evil dancing along the edges all along? I’m starting to wonder if everything I knew about Austin was a ruse. A ploy for my attention, but all the while hidden beneath that quiet exterior was a psychopath waiting to emerge at any given moment.