by KJ Bell
He groans and rolls off the bed, landing on his feet.
I help myself to a coffee crumb muffin while Battle pours us both a cup of coffee from the box of Starbucks. I add cream and sugar to mine.
We sit at the booth-style table opposite each other to eat, listening to Austin snore from the recliner. Battle still seems tense about our future travel partner. His gaze rests on the wall behind me.
“What happened with you and Tucker?” I ask.
With a heavy sigh, he leans back, his arms spread wide and resting on top of the booth’s padding. “He used to be like a brother to me, but he’s a cutthroat SOB who let the fame go to his head. The ride was no longer about beatin’ the bull. It was about beatin’ me. He pushed too hard, and lost.”
His anger confuses me. I’d be sad if I ever lost Ginger or Marty. “It must be hard to lose such a close friend.”
“I tried,” he shrugs and swallows down his remaining coffee. “After the accident, he refused to see me, and he left the circuit. Doctors say one fall could paralyze him, but the idiot wants to risk it.” His eyebrows come together as he turns his head.
There’s more to the story he clearly doesn’t want to talk about. “Okay, I’ll drop it.”
He snaps his head back to me. “You think there’s more?”
“Oh, I know there’s more.”
His hands move through his hair once. “You’re right. The accident was my fault.”
I tilt my head confused. “How so?”
“Like brothers, we were overly competitive. He had a tough draw, and I rode him pretty hard about it, tellin’ him how he didn’t stand a chance of movin’ past me in the standins’. He set out to prove me wrong. The fall cost him his career, and I lost his friendship.”
He blames himself, and in over a year, Tucker’s never spoken to him about it. I recall Tucker calling Battle out with similar statements publicly. “He blames you?”
“I think so. He hasn’t said it, but he doesn’t have to.”
“Battle, you didn’t do…”
His hand flies up. “Don’t. I acted like a dick, and I have to live with it, but please don’t tell me I didn’t do anything wrong. I did. When my granddaddy taught me to ride competitively, he taught me to do so with dignity. Something I’d forgotten.”
It’s hard not to argue when he speaks with such passion. He shouldn’t be living with guilt when Tucker is such a hypocrite. I respect Battle’s integrity to live with his wrongs, but it doesn’t seem right for him to bear such a heavy burden.
Austin springs upright in the chair, screaming, “I’m up … Fuck … I’m up!” Battle and I laugh. “Piss off,” he says, grabbing his head. He gets up and comes to the table, taking a seat across from me.
“You all right there?” I ask.
“Killer fuckin’ headache,” he grumbles.
“There’s a cure for that, dummy … Less drinkin’,” Battle says and laughs.
I laugh too. A solid hangover explains his quiet state this morning.
“That ain’t happenin’,” Austin says. "I need a Bloody Mary. Works every time.”
“Do you have mix?” I ask, preparing to volunteer my bartender services. During college, I worked for a catering company and spent many nights assigned to the cash bar at various events.
Battle and Austin bust out laughing. Insecurely, I think they’re laughing at the thought of me mixing drinks, but Battle opens a cabinet on the far side of the kitchen that stretches floor to ceiling. It’s stocked full of alcohol and mixers. I should have figured.
I laugh and say, “Coop may have a drinkin’ problem. Have y’all considered an intervention?”
“He’s beyond help,” Battle jokes.
I go about making Bloody Mary’s while Battle and Austin talk rankings and points needed at the table. When I’m done mixing, I find the rest of what I need in the fridge. I put one celery stalk, one sliced pickle and three green olives in the glass.
“What the fuck is this?” Austin asks when I set the glass in front of him. He’s looking at it like it’s toxic.
“Just drink it,” Battle says. “And say thank you.”
“How the fuck am I supposed to drink salad?” Austin asks. I shove him in the arm, and then slide in the booth next to Battle. “All right, all right.” He smells it before he takes a swallow. “Damn, woman. That’s fuckin’ good shit.”
“Thank you. I think,” I laugh softly.
He tips the glass back, draining the contents, and then eats the salad.
The motorhome comes to a stop. Cooper enters from the front and goes out the side door. I confirm we’ve arrived at Tucker’s when Austin and Battle lock eyes. Something else went on with Tucker and Battle. I can feel it.
“You good with this?” Austin asks him.
Battle answers with a silent nod.
The door opens with Cooper first and Tucker right behind him. They enter the room, and the air buzzes with tension. Tucker’s eyes move from Battle to me several times as though he’s trying to make a connection.
Austin stands. “Hey, long time no see. I missed ya, brother.”
“You, too man,” Tucker says. “It feels good to be back.”
They share a man hug before the room quiets again. Tucker moves his gaze to Battle.
“Tuck,” Battle says, tipping his head.
“Battle,” Tucker replies, his voice cold enough to freeze the room.
The hostility in the air makes me squirm, drawing Tucker’s attention. “And who’s this beautiful lady?”
Before I can answer, Battle wraps his arm around my shoulders and brings me close to him. “She’s mine.”
I don’t care what went down between them, I don’t appreciate Battle treating me like property. The hard stare I send him makes him release me.
“I’m Faye Callahan,” I say and extend my hand.
My eyes widen when instead of shaking my hand, Tucker bends over and kisses it. He continues to hold my hand, his big brown eyes finding mine. “Well I can’t say much for your taste in men, but it’s a pleasure to meet you, Faye.”
Battle stiffens, his teeth grinding together. Cooper slides next to the booth in front of Tucker. I’m sure preparing for a fight.
I rip my hand from Tucker’s. “I wish I could say it was a pleasure meetin’ you as well, but a compliment delivered with a dig just doesn’t seem genuine.”
His lips form a smile as he says, “You might be brave, but you’re gonna need more to survive Battle.”
“That’s enough, Tuck!” Battle shoots up, his fist pounding into the table.
Cooper shoves a hand onto Tucker’s chest, holding him back as Austin comes around the side to help.
“Tuck, not here,” Cooper warns.
Tucker takes a step back, scowling over Cooper’s shoulder.
“What? I’m only givin’ his girl a warnin’.”
“No, you’re givin’ me a warnin’,” Battle says, his voice firm and controlled. “And I heard you. Now leave her alone.”
Tucker holds his hands up. “All right, I’m done.”
“Come on, Tuck. You’re up front with me. I’ll show you where to put your shit,” Cooper says. Tucker cast one more glance at Battle and follows Cooper.
Once they’re out of earshot, Austin sits back at the table and says, “Fuck, why don’t you two hang your dicks out already and get it over with?”
I cover a laugh with my hand.
“I ain’t hangin’ anything out. Tuck’s the one with the problem.”
“Then let him kick your ass, and you can go back to bein’ friends, because this sucks.”
“Ain’t happenin',” Battle says.
Austin shoots me a glance and rolls his eyes. “Can you talk some sense into this guy, please? And while you’re at it, make me another Bloody. It’s workin’. I gotta go bust a growler.”
My mouth falls open as he walks away and disappears into the bathroom. I turn to Battle. “Did he just tell us he’s gonna take a shit?�
��
Battle chuckles. “In true Austin fashion.”
“He’s a pig.”
“He is, but he’s a good guy.”
“I’m reservin’ judgment,” I say, but I do like Austin. I was worried things would be awkward after Dakota’s when he was all over me, but it appears to be forgotten. The Tucker situation blindsided me, and now I have new concerns.
“Are you sure you want to stay here?” I ask, making another Bloody Mary for Austin. “We can still get a hotel.”
“Do you want to get a hotel?” Battle asks, coming up behind me.
I spin around, our bodies flush, his lips no more than an inch away. It’s hard to concentrate when I want nothing more than for him to kiss me, which makes me think distracting me is his intention.
“I want to do whatever’s easier for you. I know you haven’t shared the entire story yet, but obviously things are extremely heated between the two of you. It might be more comfortable for everyone if we aren’t sleepin’ here.”
“You’re a smart girl, but what’s goin’ on with Tuck is nothin’ for you to worry about,” he says in my ear and then pulls back. “I’ll look into a room when we get to Oklahoma.”
“Okay,” I reply, staring at his full bottom lip. I swallow hard, preparing for the kiss I’ve been craving for weeks. The slow ache in my core begins, wanting more than a simple kiss.
“Whoa!” Austin yells, exiting the bathroom. “Do not go in there.”
I deflate against the counter. Battle steps back. Austin crosses the room and sprawls out in the recliner. I turn to Battle and can only shake my head. There are truly no words for a guy like Austin.
“Still reservin’ judgment,” I say to Battle.
“That hotel room is suddenly a brilliant idea,” Battle whispers.
I silent agree as I take Austin his Bloody Mary.
He sits up tall and drinks it down before handing me the glass. “I could get used to havin’ a booze wench around … Heyyyy,” he shouts when I smack him in the back of the head. “I’m kiddin’.” He glances up with a boyish smile. “Seriously though, thank you. I feel like a new man.”
“You’re welcome, but refer to me as a wench of any sort again, and I’ll be servin’ your balls in that glass.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He laughs.
Battle doesn’t laugh. He leans against the counter, chewing on a toothpick. I wish I could help him mend his relationship with Tucker. It’s clear to me how much their abandoned friendship bothers him. I don’t want to grill him about it though. His eyes stay on me as I walk to him. I wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze, hoping to fill him with reassurance.
Hoping for more.
We arrive in Oklahoma City five past eleven. I step outside for some fresh air while Battle goes into the bedroom to check in on his mother and make a reservation at a hotel.
The back half of the arena where we park is covered with motorhomes and fifth-wheelers. Riders and their families wander the lot interacting with other families. Some kids nearby ride bikes and skateboards, while a few others play a rowdy game of football. The environment reminds me of tailgating at the Chiefs games.
Tucker and Austin help Cooper ready the motorhome for the weekend. They open windows and roll out a huge awning. From a bottom compartment, they pull out an area rug and lie it down in front of the stairs. They set up a table and chairs, and unlock a cabinet revealing a large flat-screen television. Austin and Cooper go to the back of the motorhome, leaving me alone with Tucker. His eyes stay trained on me. I make my way to the door to escape inside.
“You’re too good for him,” he says before I reach the door.
I turn around to face him on the brink of losing control, but I remain calm. “Please don’t. Leave me out of whatever issue you have with Battle.”
“I’m only tryin’ to help you,” he says striding toward me, a look of steel on his face. He towers over me. His lip curls as he says, “He ain’t right in the head, and I hate to see a girl as sweet as yourself get hurt.”
My heart pounds in my ears. I want to run, but I also want to defend Battle. My fingers curl into fists at my side. I straighten my spine, glaring at him. “You’re wrong about him, and I can take care of myself.”
I back away as he steps closer. “Ah, you women.” He keeps coming until he backs me up against the motorhome. His right hand presses flat against the metal wall behind my head. I glance up to his amused expression. “You always think you can change him. Like your pussy has some magical fuckin’ powers that he can’t resist. Battle doesn’t love anyone except Battle. He won’t ever fall in love with you, and before long he won’t even like you. He’ll take everything he can get from you and move on to the next girl that comes along. You’ll be beggin’ him to come back, and he won’t even remember your name. He doesn’t care about you.”
“Back the fuck off, Tuck!” Austin shouts and drags him backward by his arm. I sag against the wall of the motorhome with my hands on my trembling knees. “Take your shit up with Battle. Leave Faye the hell alone, or we’re gonna have a problem.”
Tucker spins and shoves Austin in the chest. “Well at least I know whose side you’re on. I shoulda known. You’ve been kissin’ his ass since you joined the tour.”
That was a low blow. Tucker’s a jealous asshole, and I hope Austin knows it.
Austin meets him chest to chest, and eye to eye. “I don’t care what you think.” He points at me. “I’m on Faye’s side. You and Battle beat the shit out of each other if you want, but leave her out of it.”
For several intense seconds, they’re quiet. I’m terrified and confused. What if everything Tucker said is true? I watch, waiting for one of them to throw a punch, but Tucker finally backs off. “Where’s Coop?” he asks. “I need a smoke.”
“He’s hookin’ up the water,” Austin tells him.
Tucker leaves, and I finally catch my breath, but I can’t stop shaking.
“You all right?” Austin asks, looking me over.
I nod slowly. “Thank you.”
“No need. I might act like a manner-less douche on occasion, but my mama did teach me to stick up for girls.” His lopsided smile shows a sweeter side of him.
“She did a fine job.” I smile, my heart rate slowing. “What’s the deal with Battle and Tucker?”
Austin laughs. “They’re both dicks.”
“So, you’re not gonna tell me either?”
He nods toward the motorhome. “Your boyfriend would kick my ass.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I clarify. “We’re just gettin’ to know each other.”
Battle descends the stairs. “What’s goin’ on here? You look worried.” Austin tenses and steps away from me.
He turns to Austin and I shake my head, urging Austin not to say anything. There’s enough animosity between Tucker and Battle. The last thing I want to do is add to it.
“Nothin’. I’m fine. Austin and I were just chattin’, and I felt a little dizzy. The heat must be gettin’ to me.”
Doubt creeps over his expression, but he lets it go. “Can I get you anything?” he asks.
“Some water would be good.”
Battle goes back into the motorhome to get me a bottle of water. I wait until the door closes and thank Austin for not saying anything.
“Faye, I want you to know that crap Tucker said about Battle ain’t true.”
I want to believe him, but uncertainty swirls around in my thoughts, stirring memories of things Battle has said. “I know,” is all I can say, and it isn’t convincing because I can’t even look at him.
“Battle and I have been friends since we were fourteen-years-old. I ain’t ever seen him with a woman like he is with you. If he didn’t have feelins’ for you, you wouldn’t be here. I promise you that.”
His words bring on a smile as my heart bursts with emotion.
Battle comes through the door with my water. “Time for registration,” he says, handing me the bottle. “You wanna walk wi
th me?”
“I’ll go with Coop and Tuck,” Austin excuses himself, nodding toward the back of the motorhome.
I sip my water as Battle and I walk through the parking lot.
“How’s your mom?” I ask.
“Good, but no luck on a hotel. Besides the Rodeo, there’s some national youth soccer championship goin’ on and they’re all booked.”
That was the last thing I wanted to hear after my encounter with Tucker. I can’t share my thoughts with Battle without telling him what happened. “That’s okay.”
“No. It’s not." He stops walking and stares at me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think this through. There are times I’ll have to leave you alone, and ...”
“It’s fine.”
“It would be if Tucker weren’t around. I want you to stay away from him.”
“I will,” I promise, knowing I would be steering clear of Tucker without his warning. The man’s full of envy and jealousy that makes his temper unpredictable. Knowing I’m his target to get back at Battle scares me.
Battle checks in, which is more uneventful than I expected. He literally signs a piece of paper, and he’s done. On our way back to the motorhome, I learn there’s a contestants meeting in an hour where they’ll draw bulls, and the actual riding starts at six.
I’m relieved when we return to the motorhome and the guys aren’t there. Battle makes us lunch before going to the contestants meeting. While he’s gone, I sit outside in one of the chairs reading a book when my phones rings.
Dad
If I don’t answer, he’ll keep calling.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“I don’t appreciate you puttin’ me off,” he says in that same controlled, even voice he’s used since I was a kid.
“I wasn’t puttin’ you off,” I lie. “There hasn’t been a good time to call.”
“That man you rode off with is irresponsible, and dangerous. I want you to stay away from him.”
“You don’t know Battle.”
“I know you’re too good for him.”
That is the second time I’ve been told that today, but at least Tucker has a history with Battle. They were friends. My father has never met Battle.
“I like him. If you can’t accept my feelins’, then we have nothin’ else to talk about."