Fighting to Forget

by J. B. Salsbury

  She turns to me, her eyes wide. Yep, here comes the freak out.

  “Fuck yeah!” She bounces in her seat like a damn kid. “Let’s do it!”

  What the hell? “Really? You’re down?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Leaning forward, she looks up through the windshield. “Are we close?”

  I point out my side window to the Stratosphere in the distance. “Over there.”

  She crosses the center console with her torso in order to look out my window. The intoxicating tropical smell of her hair is so close I hold back the urge to grab a fistful and bury my nose in it.

  Before I get the chance, she sits back in her seat. Her hand flies to her belly and she smiles. “I have butterflies.”

  I’ve seen the tough side of Mac, the tomboy who jumps in front of bikers, the scared shitless side at being locked in a room alone, and even the softer side after a bad dream, but this side, the cute childlike excitement, is my favorite so far. There’s an innocence to her now that I envy—a carefree joy that I’ve only seen in others but can never remember feeling.

  We pull up to the lobby of the Stratosphere. By the time I’m finished dealing with the valet, Mac’s already out and waiting for me by the doors. She’s grinning and bouncing on her toes.

  “Let’s go.” I smile and grab her hand to lead her through the hotel casino, bypassing the ticket counter.

  She pulls back against my hold, resisting. “Tickets.” She points to the sign that clearly states we need tickets to the tower and rides. “Don’t we need to buy them here first?”

  “Nope.” I tug her hand and move toward the bank of elevators. “They know me here. I come a lot, so I pay monthly and they let me do whatever I want.”

  She stops us again. “Oh, well here.” Reaching into the small purse she has hung diagonally from one shoulder to her hip, she pulls out some cash.

  I shake my head. “Not takin’ your money, Mac. Put that shit away.”

  “No, it’s okay.” She shakes the wad of green at me. “Take it. You don’t have to pay—”

  I cup her jaw, pressing my thumb against her lips. Fuck, just the feel of them on my finger makes me want to taste them again, but I need to keep this friendly, more for her sake than mine. “Shhhh. Please, no more talk of you paying.”

  She nods and puts her money away.

  “Atta girl.” It takes all my effort to pull my hand from her face to avoid getting lost in her wide eyes, which are begging for more. Fuck, I need to reel in my shit. A few moments of silence pass between us.

  We move again toward the elevator, but a few yards away, she stops again. What now?

  “Mac.” I turn toward her to see her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide and fixed on the elevator doors.

  “What is that?” Her hand in mine is clammy.

  “Elevators to the top. That’s where the rides are.”

  “Oh, yeah. Right.” She shifts on her feet. “Can we take the stairs?” There’s a shakiness in her voice.

  Stairs?

  “Hey.” I tighten my hold and search her eyes. “You change your mind? We can do something else if you want.”

  Her gaze darts to the elevator doors. “No, I want to go but, um . . .” She locks eyes with mine. “I hate elevators.” A weak smile pulls at her lips.

  First hospitals and now elevators. What that’s all about?

  “It’s a quick ride to the top. I’ll be right there with you.”

  My reassurance seems to relax her a little. I lead her up the last few steps to the doors and press the arrow-up button.

  She clears her throat. “How many levels to the top?”

  “Over one hundred.”

  Her head whips around, eyes on mine, and the pale brown sparks with panic. “One hundred?”

  I turn to face her head on. “Walk through your fears. You’ll realize it’s not as bad as you think.” It’s good advice, but very seldom works for me. “You’ll be fine. Promise.”

  Her expression softens. She takes in a deep breath and nods.

  A ding sounds from the elevator and the doors slide open, letting out a group of giggling, flushed-faced teenagers. Her grip on my hand tightens, but only slightly.

  “Tom, what’s up, man?” I give the elevator attendant a chin lift that I’m sure he misses as his eyes are glued to the strikingly gorgeous and visibly nervous girl at my side. The way he’s eyeing her would probably piss me off if the dude didn’t look like someone’s grandpa.

  I tuck her to my side and move into the elevator. She tenses, dragging her feet, but manages to get inside.

  “Rex.” He gives her a polite nod of his head. “I see you’re doing well.” The corners of his lips curl.

  “Been good.” I’ve never brought a chick with me. I’m sure I’ll be hearing about this next time I come back alone. “Take us to the top.”

  “Sure thing.” Tom hits the right buttons, and we begin our ascent to the top of the Stratosphere.

  Mac curls a little deeper into my side.

  “The elevator is traveling at twenty miles per hour.” Tom swings his gaze to Mac. “Don’t be surprised if you feel it in your ears.”

  I almost grin when right on cue Mac yawns and pushes on her ears.

  “Observation deck,” Tom says just before the elevator dings and the doors slide open. “See you on the way down.”

  We step out and she whirls toward me, a grin lighting her face. “That wasn’t bad at all.”

  I shrug. “Told you.”

  “It was fast.” Her voice is laced with excitement.

  My teeth pull at my lip ring to keep from grinning at the pride of her accomplishment.

  I follow her to the observation deck with floor-to-ceiling glass, and she oohs and ahs over the view. This time she pulls me toward the elevator that will take us the last few levels to the rides on top.

  Within minutes, we’re sitting side by side on Insanity, waiting for the rest of the ride to get loaded with people.

  This is the kind of shit I live for—the rush that reminds me I’m alive. And having this experience with Mac is as nerve-wracking as it is thrilling. I’ve never shared this part of myself with anyone, and doing it feels better than I thought it would.

  The ride kicks in, and she kicks her legs, releasing the most feminine squeal I’ve ever heard. “This is awesome!”

  I’m entranced, watching the pure joy and excitement radiating from her expression: intoxicating, inspiring, and so fuckin’ beautiful it makes my chest hurt.

  What the hell is this girl doing to me? Something shifts inside me, a slight movement that should be so obvious and yet I have no clue what the fuck. All I know is that being around Mac is like a drug. One hit was just enough to get me jonesing for more.

  A lot more.

  ~*~

  Mac

  “That was amazing!” I’m jumping up and down, shaking out my hands from the adrenaline rush of hanging off the top of the Stratosphere next to Rex.

  “You liked that, huh?” He’s so relaxed, as if he just rolled off a massage table rather than a high-speed extreme ride.

  “Like it? I loved it!” I grab his forearm. “Let’s do it again.”

  He tilts his head, flashing a crooked smile. He’s not jerking away from my touch, and if I thought he’d let me, I’d lean in and suck his bottom lip into my mouth. This is the most relaxed I’ve seen him since our encounter in Jonah’s hallway, and I don’t want him retreating on me again, so I keep my advances to myself.

  “That was only a warm up.” He jerks his head toward the direction of a platform surrounded by bars and cables. “You game for bigger and better?”

  I don’t know what he’s talking about, but there’s nothing I’d say no to when it comes to Rex. “I’m always game when it comes to you.”

  He blinks and his grin falls a fraction, but not as if he didn’t like what I said, more like he didn’t understand it. I stay quiet, allowing him a moment to process my words.

  The urge to unload
my secret wiggles its way to my forebrain. He needs to know who I am, and there’s a part of me that wants to tell him, hoping it’ll help me to move on from the guilt and shame I’ve been lugging around my entire life. All those years I thought he was dead, knowing that it was my fault for being so stupid. I was so damn young and naive. If I’d just done what I’d promised and gotten him out of there, then there’d be no secrets to hide, no shame to drag along. Being with him like this makes me want to unload all that heavy weight, throw it out there and revel in the freedom of unburdening. Fear, straight-up belly cramping, sweat-inducing fear has me biting down against the truth.

  I told myself that I’d confess and beg for his forgiveness if I ever got the chance. And this is my chance. But what would my confession do to this? To us?

  “Right, well . . .” His voice’s low and gravelly, like it is when he’s on stage. He dips his face close to mine. “Let’s see you back up that sweet mouth with a little action.”

  Sweet mouth. My stomach quivers, and I press my knees together at the effect his words have over my body. He snags my hand and leads me back inside. After a short exchange with some of the staff who clearly know Rex well, we’re putting on jumpsuits and getting strapped into harnesses.

  “I’m not bungee jumping off the top of the Stratosphere, am I?” Being on a thrill ride is one thing, but strapped to a cord and jumping from a building might be pushing my limits a little too far.

  He’s in his gray jumpsuit and harness but still looks smokin’ hot and manly as hell. “Nope, no bungee.” He tugs on a few of my straps, making sure I’m secure, and the simple act warms my chest. “Just jumping.”

  “Jumping.”

  He nods.

  “Off of the Stratosphere.”

  He nods again.

  “Landing?”

  His deep blue eyes meet mine. “On the ground.”

  “Oh God.” I tug at the straps that now feel suffocating. “Oh God, oh God, oh God.”

  He hooks his fingers beneath my chin and pulls my eyes to his. “You’re gonna love it. Didn’t you ever dream about flying when you were a kid?”

  My breath catches in my throat. As a kid, the only thing I ever dreamed of was Rex. “I guess.”

  His eyes dance around my face, and I can’t help but feel as if he’s reading my thoughts. “The rush you’re about to experience—falling at forty miles per hour—it feels like flying.” The last word is spoken with such fascination I have to wonder if he dreamed of flying when he was a kid, escaping into the great expanse of the sky where no one can touch him, hold him against his will, keep him locked away.

  “Whoa, hey, if you’re not ready for this, we don’t have to do it.” The tenderness in his voice combined with the way his eyebrows are dropped low tells me he’s actually reading my expression and confusing my thoughts for fear.

  I sniff back my emotion and smile. “No, I’m good. Promise.”

  He studies my face, not looking convinced. I smile bigger to alleviate his worry.

  It must do the job because his expression relaxes and he smiles back. “I’ll go first, and when you jump, I’ll be there waiting. Don’t worry; I’ll catch you.” The way he whispered those last words as if he were sharing a deep secret to the meaning of life, settles my nerves. “You ready?”

  I nod for fear that speaking may give away the emotion I’m feeling.

  We walk out together, hand in hand, to the jump platform. He doesn’t look at me, only releases my hand and follows instructions. They hook a large cable on to the back of Rex’s harness and motion for him to the edge. He turns to look at me from over his shoulder and mouths, “See you at the bottom.” Then he’s gone.

  On instinct, I rush forward, hands outstretched to snatch him back to solid ground.

  The attendant pulls me back by my harness. “Whoa! Not yet. Wait ’til he’s on the ground.”

  Seconds pass before I hear the static voice over the attendant’s walkie-talkie, saying that Rex is safely on the ground.

  “All right, you’re up.”

  I walk to the edge so that the toes of my boots are hanging off of a 1,000-foot drop. Every ounce of fear dissolves. Not a single wave of nerves or flutter of a butterfly. My mind is zeroed in one thing, getting to Rex.

  And knowing he’ll catch me.

  With the final okay from the attendant, I close my eyes. I open my arms wide and tilt my face toward the warm desert sun. With a deep breath, I bend my knees and push off. Swan diving forward, I free fall into nothing. My stomach rockets into my chest, igniting a furious rush of adrenaline. Madness unfurls within my body, but outside is quiet save for the rushing wind as it whips through my hair. Dropping, dropping, dropping in a peaceful descent.

  He was right. It’s like flying.

  I’m tugged down to the earth by gravity and the pull on my heart toward the one person who’s ever owned it. The tension on the cord slows my descent, but before I can open my eyes to see how close I am to the ground, I hit solid muscle, and two arms wrap tightly around my body.

  I absorb the shock of his strength, and my arms lock around his shoulders as tight as they can. My hold on him is equal to his on me, and I vow right then that I’ll never let him be taken away from me again.

  “You caught me,” I say, out of breath from the rush and the feelings that are strangling me.

  “I told you I would.” His lips are so close I feel his lip ring against the shell of my ear.

  The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow them back along with a rush of emotion that’s threatening to burst the floodgates.

  I love you, Rex.

  Eleven

  It’s like grasping at the unattainable.

  Harnessing the wind.

  Wanting you is impossible.

  Your love, my greatest sin.

  --Ataxia

  Mac

  It’s a quiet ride back to Jonah’s house after our date at the Stratosphere, but the silence between us isn’t awkward. I can’t speak for what’s got his lips on lockdown, but for me it’s my all-consuming thoughts of having his arms around me and his breath at my ear, reminding me that he kept to his word and caught me, that with him, I’m safe.

  We walked into that casino divided and walked out joined, brought together by a shared experience and so much more. At least, that’s how it feels on my end. And his lack of chit-chat leads me to believe it may be the same on his.

  I gaze into the side mirror and watch the Stratosphere slowly fade into the distance. The sun setting behind the mountains bathes everything in purple and orange, the color of contentment.

  He let me in. It may not seem like much, but his taking me there was important. I knew from the way those who knew him looked surprised to see me that he opened part of himself to me. And that, for a guy like Rex, is not insignificant.

  His truck turns down the long expanse of the Slade’s driveway and stops at my bike, which is parked where I left it. He parks but leaves the engine running. It’s over. Time to go home.

  With a deep breath, I turn toward him and almost gasp.

  He’s gripping the steering wheel, eyes fixed on me with predatory intensity. But, he’s smiling. “I’m not ready to go home.”

  I shrug a shoulder and fight the urge to smile. “Then don’t.”

  “Where should I go?”

  “Come over to my place.” Rex in my house? Dammit, did I leave my dirty clothes on the floor? That’s all I need is to invite him into my room only to see my dirty panties.

  His eyebrows drop low. “Tubby there?”

  “Shouldn’t be. Last I heard he was gone on MC business.” Probably killing people. “We could hang out by the pool.”

  “You have a pool?”

  The boyish excitement in his question has me grinning. “Yeah.”

  “I’ll follow you.” He throws the truck into drive, and I catch myself from leaning across to give him a kiss on the cheek.

  Instead, I scurry out of the truck to my bike. I zip up
my leather jacket and push the key into the ignition.

  “Mac, what the fuck?” Rex says from his open window.

  I swing my gaze to him and—why does he look mad?

  “What?”

  “You fuckin’ kidding me?”

  “Um . . . no? Er, I don’t know. What?”

  He shuts off his truck, and with the absence of the growl of the engine, I hear him mumble, “She’s not fucking kidding.”

  He hops out of the truck, opens the back door on his side, and pulls something out. Rounding the bed of the truck, he prowls toward me, and I’m instantly aware of his problem.

  “Oh.”

  He shoves a black helmet toward me. “Put it on.”

  “Rex, it’s not that far.”

  Without a word, he glares at me, the glacial ice of his stare burning me from brain to boots.

  “I like the wind in my hair,” I say in an embarrassed whisper.

  “Wind? What the . . .?” He blinks and shakes his head. “First, it’s illegal. Second, your hair will look like shit when it’s splattered with your skull and brains all over the damn blacktop.”

  I cringe and take the helmet. “Good point.”

  “You do this often? Ride without a helmet?”

  I shake my head no before sliding it over my head. Truth is I do sometimes. Tight spaces freak me out, and anything over my face feels suffocating, but the clean, spicy smell of Rex’s helmet makes it tolerable.

  “Right.” He fastens the strap beneath my chin, making sure to tighten it before flipping up the face guard. “I’ll follow you.”

  I nod and make a mental note to never ride without a helmet when Rex is around. Or maybe just ever.

  Revving the engine, I kick back the stand and take off down the driveway. He cares about my safety. A warm feeling settles in my chest, and I smile behind the massive bulk of Rex’s helmet.

  We race back to my house, and I’m actually looking forward to the lecture I’m sure I’ll get about speed limits and lane-sharing precautions. It’s possible I rode on the wrong side of safety just so I could get a lecture.

  Yeah, I’m seriously digging Rex’s protective side.

  I round the corner to my street and want to scream and stomp my feet like a pissed off toddler. Fuckin’ shit. Hatch’s motherfucking bike is parked in the driveway.