Severe Side Winds Ahead

by Kendel Duncan

  “I panicked, Tripp. I completely panicked. Now he’s out there, doing god knows what, maybe getting hurt and I’m not doing everything I can to help him. I’m such a fucking asshole. What am I supposed to do now?”

  Tripp took a few steps forward and sat next to Cole on the couch, “Now? Now you get back to your place as fast as you can and……” he paused, “Shit.”

  Cole’s head popped up, “What? What’s wrong?”

  Cole and Jackson followed Tripp’s eyes to the window.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Jackson mumbled as he walked over and saw the three inches of snow covering the ground and the white, soft flakes falling from the sky.

  “Maybe the road is still clear,” he said without much conviction.

  “Doubtful. I can’t tell you how many people have said that same thing and then ended up in a ditch, or worse, on their way down,” Tripp said. “Do you have an SUV?” he asked Jackson.

  Jack shook his head, “Nope. Impala.”

  “Since neither of you have four-wheel-drive vehicles. I can’t let you leave until this is gone.”

  “You’re not serious,” Jackson mumbled as he stared out the window even though he knew the man was…and he was right too. That hill climbing up here to Tripp’s place was nothing but winding turns and unprotected drop-offs into the canyon below. You’d need a snowcat or snowmobile to get down safely. He didn’t wait for Tripp’s reply, instead he slid his fingers through his hair as he mumbled, “Motherfucker,” and turned back to look at Tripp. “Do you have a guest house or a garage that I can sleep in?”

  Tripp stared at him with those fucking knowing eyes, “How bad are they?” he said.

  Cole frowned, “How bad are what?”

  “The nightmares,” Tripp mumbled as he kept staring at Jackson.

  He didn’t want anyone to know about what he dealt with on a nightly basis. It was too personal, too close to his heart. And yet he heard himself say, “I can get vocal but the worst thing is how I feel when I wake up from them. It’s not good for me to be around people.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I need to hit something…..a lot, and hard.”

  Tripp smiled at him, “I think I’ve got the perfect place for you. Come with me,” he said then he stood and walked down the hall.

  Jackson hesitated for a moment and then followed him.

  Tripp walked past two closed doors and pushed open the third then he disappeared inside. Jackson stopped in the doorway, looked around and smiled. “This will do,” he mumbled as he took in the brass bed against one wall….and the heavy bag and sparring bag on the opposite side, along with various gloves and boxing tape.

  “Thought it might. And, if you need to talk, I’ll be right across the hall.”

  Jackson’s heart ratcheted up a few notches as he whipped his head around, “You will? But I saw that nice loft above the living room. Isn’t that the master bedroom?”

  “It is. But I don’t sleep there anymore. I just….can’t,” Tripp whispered as he turned away, “Cole can sleep up there.”

  Jackson didn’t say anything because he understood…a little too well for his comfort if he was being honest. Tripp took a few steps towards the door but froze when Jackson asked a question to his retreating back, “How long has it been? If you don’t mind my asking.”

  Tripp’s hand came up to grip the wall, letting the feel of the cool wood calm him as he whispered, “Three years. You?”

  “Just past six years,” Jackson muttered.

  “It never gets any easier, does it?”

  Jackson looked at Tripp’s back and thought, he could lie to the guy…but why? “No, it really doesn’t.”

  Tripp’s head turned and he gazed at Jackson, “I’m going to go figure out something for our dinner and then I need to get out to the barn to feed the animals.”

  Jackson should’ve just let the man go, his head told him to let him go but his heart…… “Do you, um, would you like some help with the feedings?”

  “Yeah, that would be nice. Take your time, Jackson. We’ll head out when you’re ready.”

  Jackson watched him go then wandered farther into the room, running his fingers over the down comforter and then he walked over to the window. As he glanced outside to the white blanketed world, not really seeing it because his emotions were all over the place, his head kept screaming at him, what the fuck are you doing? But for some reason he wasn’t scared about finding out the answer to that – no, actually he wanted to know, was looking forward to it even, because somewhere in that answer lay more of Tripp Henry – and that right there was reason enough for him to stay…..at least for now.

  ********************************

  When did I completely lose track on this clusterfuck of an op? Morgan wondered as he listened to everything going on.

  “Everyone stand down! They have motion sensors everywhere!” Caleb barked through airwaves.

  “Billy? Hawke is going to send you pictures of the units so you can tell us how to disable them. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

  “Got it. Stand by. Photos coming through now. What the??? Oh, fuck me,” Billy said.

  “Talk to me, Billy,” Morgan said.

  “I, fuck, I’ve heard about these but I don’t know anything about them. These are so damn new and high tech that there aren’t any specs on them anywhere.”

  “Motherfucker,” Caleb mumbled.

  “Wait! I know who created the programming for these units!” Billy said.

  “Who?”

  “Cole. Well, his company did. Maybe he can help?”

  Morgan squeezed his eyes shut, “Son of a bitch.”

  “Morgan?” Caleb said.

  Morgan squeezed the bridge of his nose, “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Can you ask Cole?”

  “That’s kind of complicated.”

  “Well, uncomplicate it,” Caleb said with a growl.

  “Hang tight. Let me see what I can find out. Billy? Forward the picture to me.”

  “Done.”

  Morgan pulled up the photo on his phone and then forwarded it to Jackson along with the text:

  Jack – we have an emergency. Cole’s company designed this unit. We need to know how to disable it….NOW.

  The reply came just a few seconds later.

  One second – I’ll ask

  So that meant that Jackson wasn’t following Cole anymore – he was with him. Interesting.

  He’s disabling them now. Give him two minutes

  “What?” Morgan barked out into the room. “How is he disabling them?”

  As if they heard him, Morgan’s phone rang a few seconds later.

  “How, Jackson?” he said.

  “You’re on speaker with me and Cole. I’ll let him explain.”

  “Hey, Morgan. Everything I design, I leave a back door into them for me. Give me another few seconds. Okay, they’re off. You should be good for a few minutes until I need to turn them back on so they don’t notice.”

  “Caleb? Tell your men to go now, now, now!”

  As Caleb barked out his orders, Morgan listened. And then Cole whispered, “Is there anything else I can do?”

  Morgan glanced at his phone because he had forgotten that his call was still connected.

  “Maybe. Do you want me to patch you in?”

  “No, that’s probably not a good idea. But I would like to stay on the line and be ready in case you need any more technical help.”

  Silence greeted his request.

  “Look, Morgan. I screwed up, okay? But I’m now stuck where I am because of snow so please let me help?”

  “I’ll text you Ben’s number, he’s sitting next to Billy. If Billy needs your assistance with anything, Ben can let you know. But I need to keep my mind focused on this op, understood?”

  “Got it. Thank you,” Cole mumbled.

  The call ended and then Jackson’s phone pinged with a phone number.

  “Can I se
t up at the dining room table?” Cole said.

  “Yeah sure,” Tripp said from the kitchen where he was cooking something on the stove.

  “How’s your internet up here?”

  “Usually good. It’s satellite. The only issues you might have are if they snow piles up too heavy on the dish. But we can go knock it off if it does and then you should be fine again.”

  Cole stuck a Bluetooth earpiece into his ear as he said, “Perfect. Thanks,” and then he dialed a number and began typing so fast on his laptop that Jackson thought he might get dizzy if he stayed and watched the man so he got up and walked over to the kitchen.

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Sure. You want to drop those noodles in the water? I hope spaghetti is okay.”

  “It’s perfect,” Jackson said as he walked over.

  They worked in perfect harmony in that kitchen, almost as if they’d done this a thousand times before. And the occasional brush of their shoulders together, or even just the nearness of Tripp’s body to his, suddenly reminded Jackson of just how long it had been since he’d been intimate with another man. Six years is a long fucking time. Had he fucked since Bryce had died? Yeah, a few times here and there. But those were always quick, down-and-dirty hook ups. Just races to reach orgasm before they both went their separate ways. They didn’t involve this….intimacy.

  And even though he and Tripp weren’t actually being intimate in that kitchen, it sure felt like they were. And it was beginning to mess with Jackson’s head.

  Tripp was putting plates, silverware and the bowls of noodles, sauce and salad on the counter when he heard the, “Need some air,” quietly mumbled behind him followed by the side door being open and shut.

  He knew exactly what Jackson was feeling right now….because he was feeling it too. Maybe it was because he hadn’t been a widower for as long as Jackson so he wasn’t so set in his ‘alone’ ways. Or maybe it was just because being close to Jackson somehow felt….right…to him, as frightening as that was.

  He fixed a plate of food for Cole and set it next to him at the table. Then he grabbed his fleece-lined denim jacket, slipped it on and stepped out onto the porch. As the gravel crunched under his boots when he walked from his house towards the barn, he looked back and caught Jackson watching him.

  “I’m going to feed the animals before I eat. You’re welcome to come help if you feel like it.”

  He didn’t wait for a response, just continued on to his barn and slipped inside.

  He was nuzzling Dakota and feeding him a carrot when he heard the door behind him open and close.

  “Who is this?”

  Tripp rubbed his nose as he said, “This is Dakota.”

  “He’s beautiful. Whoa, hey there big guy,” Jackson said with a laugh.

  Tripp turned and saw that Gunner had pushed his nose against Jackson’s shoulder and was now nodding his head to encourage Jackson to pet him. Gunner never did that with anyone other than Tyler. He never even got affectionate with Tripp.

  Tripp watched the two of them with a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes. “His name’s Gunner,” he somehow managed to whisper without letting the sob break free.

  He must not have kept the tremor from his voice because Jackson’s head suddenly turned and he frowned when he looked at Tripp….and then his eyes softened with understanding. “This was his horse.”

  Tripp nodded. “Gunner’s been mourning his loss just as much as I have. He lets me ride him sometimes but that,” he said as he waved his hand at Gunner nuzzling Jackson’s shoulder, “never happens. Not with me.”

  “I, I’m sorry. Should I go?”

  “God no. He needs this. Here, why don’t you give him a carrot,” Tripp said as he reached into a bag and handed one to Jackson.

  “I’m gonna, I’ll just go feed the goats,” Tripp mumbled as he wandered away.

  After a few minutes he felt, literally felt it, when Jackson walked up behind him. “They’re cute. What do you have them for, milk?”

  “That and pruning the yard. They keep back the weeds and blackberry bushes and whatnot so I don’t have to.”

  “Nice. And chickens too?”

  “Yeah. I love my eggs, for breakfast, lunch or dinner.”

  “Me too.”

  Together they finished feeding the animals and then somehow found themselves back by the two horses. “You ever ride?” Tripp said.

  “A little, when I was younger. My folks had a farm. At one point, I was training for the rodeo but then…..”

  “Then what?” Tripp said, needing to hear the rest of his story.

  “I had to move away,” he said sadly.

  “Why? Did they lose the farm or something?”

  “No. They’re still there as far as I know.”

  The underlying reason for why he had to move hit Tripp square in the chest – he felt both angry and sad for the man standing next to him as he said, “You came out to them.”

  Jackson nodded his head as Gunner nuzzled him.

  “And they kicked you out.”

  “Yes. It was either leave or go to conversion therapy to cure my ‘confusion’ as they called it. So, I left.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Seventeen. I had just graduated high school. The rodeo career dream died the moment I stepped into the recruiter’s office because I had no other way of supporting myself. My job had been working on the farm with my family.”

  “What the fuck is wrong with people?” Tripp growled.

  Jackson smiled at him, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s their loss. They never got to meet my amazing husband and I gained beautiful parents with my in-laws.”

  “That’s nice and all but it’s still wrong. Let’s go get some food, yeah?”

  “Yeah, okay,” Jackson said as he nuzzled Gunner once more.

  As they walked to the door of the barn, Tripp said, “Once the weather is nice, you’re welcome to come up here and ride whenever you’d like. I think Gunner would like that too.”

  Jackson blew out a breath as he smirked, “Oh, you meant the horses. For a second there I wasn’t sure what you were inviting me up here to ride.”

  Tripp threw his head back and laughed but then he locked his gaze with Jackson’s and they both knew what image was going through their minds.

  Jackson bit his lip and turned away first but not before both of them had pink cheeks from their dirty thoughts.

  “Tripp, I…..”

  Tripp patted Jackson’s shoulder, “No worries, J. I get it, I really do.”

  “You do, don’t you? So why doesn’t’ this scare you?” They both knew that the this that Jackson was talking about was this insane attraction they both felt – it wasn’t just an I want to jump your bones attraction. No, it was more than that, a lot more. Like a I think you might be someone I could fall in love with kind of feeling.

  “It terrifies me, Jackson.”

  “But?”

  “I’ve been numb for three years. Numb or overwhelmingly sad. I guess it’s just kind of nice to feel something other than that.”

  “Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck!” Cole shouted from inside the house.

  “Come on,” Tripp said and they both ran the rest of the way.

  “What’s going on?” he said as he took off his coat.

  Cole’s tear-filled eyes looked up at both of them, “I can’t fucking do this, I just can’t. This is killing me, Tripp.”

  He stepped closer to the table and squatted down, “No, it’s not, babe. It’s hurting and it’s stressing you out but it’s not killing you. Killing you is what happens when you get a call a two in the morning telling you that your husband has been in a horrible accident and they need you to get to the hospital to say your goodbyes. Killing you is when you whisper I love you into his ear and then hear him take his last breath followed by the horrible solid beep of him flatlining. You die when you have to bring home a bag of all the clothes he was wearing and everything he had with him but you don’t get to
bring him home. That’s what kills you, Cole. Kelly is alive. That team of men are working their asses off to make sure he stays that way. You cling to that, you hold tight to that.”

  Cole brushed the tears from his cheeks as he pressed his forehead to Tripp’s and nodded.

  “Better now, babe?”

  Jackson frowned at the endearment because……why? The answer hit him like a ton of bricks. He was jealous. He wanted Tripp to be calling him babe.

  “Motherfucker,” he whispered as he turned to walk over to the counter where the food was. He planted his ass on one of the high stools and began dishing up as he tried desperately to ignore the shaking in his hands.

  “You okay?” Tripp’s smooth voice said from right behind him as he slid a hand onto Jackson’s shoulder.

  God, he wanted to lean back into the man’s chest and tilt his head back for a kiss so bad it hurt.

  Instead he shrugged his shoulders to get Tripp to remove his hand as he muttered, “I’m fine,” from his clenched mouth.

  He felt Tripp move to his side and sit on the stool next to him, “Yeah, I can see that,” he said as he began dishing up his own food.

  No, he wasn’t fine. Jackson hadn’t been fine for six fucking years, not really. And now this man that he barely knew was taking his fine that he had been existing on for so long and turning it on its ear.

  Jackson wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch the man or kiss him….or both. But he knew he’d probably do at least one of those very soon.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Blake stared into Tiny’s eyes. This was happening, it was really happening. He kept expecting his nerves to kick in but surprisingly they seemed to have flown the coop.

  He was still on top of Tiny, straddling him as the man made love to his mouth. That’s all he could really call it. Sure, he was devouring him with his lips and tongue, turning Blake on so much he felt like he just might burst into flames. But there was also a gentleness to it, a reverence that let Blake know he was safe, protected and, yes, loved.

  He closed his eyes and felt the two of them move as Tiny rolled them over. Then he patted Blake’s thigh as he sat up, “Get onto all fours for me baby. I want to take my time getting you ready.”