by J. D. Brick
I sit down on the bed again and put my face in my hands. Hot tears sting my eyes. That’s it, son. Cry like a little girl. Bill’s voice, this time. I grab my guitar and start playing one of Bryson’s songs.
Truth can be a liar
As twisted as they come
She’ll set your soul on fire
And laugh when you try to run.
I’m singing softly, wallowing in self-pity.
She’ll lead you down the primrose path
She’ll let you think you’ve fooled her
Then sacrifice you to Heaven’s wrath
Just when you think you rule her.
Truth lies, baby, truth lies
‘Cause when truth gets honest, baby
Everything else just dies…
I put the guitar on the floor and slump back on my bed again, staring at the ceiling. I should just leave before Keegan gets up, blow her off, then be a total dick to her when I get back to the house. That’s the breaks, baby, I changed my mind. Get over it. It’s the only way.
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know, Keegan’s standing over me, wearing those cutoffs. She’s smiling. I’m naked. “I knocked, but you didn’t answer so. . .” She lets her eyes travel down my body, and I see her chest rise as she inhales. Her lips part, and I have to jump up and run to the bathroom. Otherwise my hard-on is going to take control of the situation.
I hear Keegan laugh. “You OK there, Mr. Waltz?” I slip on my boxers and come out of the bathroom feeling like an idiot. The boxers do nothing to hide my interest. “Actually, the guys in my platoon called me Double D, short for Dancin’ Danube. After I was dumb enough to tell them that the Blue Danube is a dance.” No idea why I’m telling her that. I’m supposed to be breaking it off with her, not sharing more personal stuff.
“Dancin’ Danube, huh?” She grins. “I like that.” She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail, but a couple of soft tendrils are hanging down in the front. I think of the day she moved in, when I couldn’t resist reaching out and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. She’d had me from the very beginning.
She’s in a good mood. “I'm looking forward to getting away from here. I'm glad you thought of it, Blue. As long as you're sure we can be back by 4.”
I hate the tremor in my voice when I respond. “I'm sure. And it will be awesome. At least I think it will be. I hope you’ll like it. I mean, I think you will?” Do it now, you fool.
Keegan’s grin fades. She tilts her head to the side, looking puzzled. “You okay, Blue?” The sweet concern in her voice dissolves any strength I have left. I can’t do it. I can’t break it off with her. I pull her to me and kiss her so hard, so long, that, she finally breaks away, gasping. “Wow! That’s a good start.”
She snuggles against my chest. I put my arms around her and rest my lips on her hair. It smells like coconuts again. I breathe in and close my eyes, willing all the voices out of my head. The hell with it. I only want to hear from Keegan. She needs me. And God help us both, I need her. We’ll make it work, somehow.
“Let me get dressed, and we’ll go,” I whisper against her head, then pull her chin up and kiss her lips again. “It will be awesome.”
CHAPTER TEN
Caution to the Wind
Blue
I set my guitar in the back seat of the Coupe and place the blanket—with the ax wrapped inside—into the trunk, along with a cooler full of water bottles and snacks. Just as I pull open the passenger door for Keegan, Max comes bounding out of the backyard. Someone yet again failed to latch the gate. He heads right for the car and jumps into the seat.
“Maxie!”
Keegan purses her lips in an air smooch at the dog, then lifts her smiling face into the morning sun as she leans against the car. It’s going to be a warm day again, with just a light wind, perfect weather for rappelling. And for other things, I hope.
“Not today, buddy,” I say to Max, snapping my fingers to get him out of the car. Naturally, he ignores me. “Max!” He looks away as if he has no idea I am talking to him. Little bastard. Or big bastard, considering he’s about 90 pounds.
“Okay, buddy, we'll do this the hard way.” I reach in and grab his collar, then try to pull him out. He hunches down into the seat, determined to put up a fight.
“Max! Get out of there, right now.” I pull a little harder, and he finally gives up, jumping to the ground and, I swear, giving me a 'Go to hell' look as he walks dejectedly over to Keegan. And of course, she falls for it hook, line and sinker.
“Aw, Maxie,” she says. “If I didn't have my hands full, I'd give you a big hug. You kept me company last night after I was abandoned.”
She throws me a teasing smile, and I return it, suddenly nervous about my plan. What if she hates the whole thing? I take the champagne bottle and package of plastic glasses out of Keegan's hands and set them in the back seat. She crouches down and cradles Max's manipulative head.
“Aw,” she says again, stroking his ears, “you sure we can't we take him along?”
“Positive. We wouldn't be able to take him where we're going.”
“And when are you going to tell me where that is?” Keegan asks, still smiling as she rises to her feet and adjusts the backpack she’s got slung over her shoulder. I’ve closed the back door and am about to close the trunk when Keegan puts her hand on my arm.
“Hey, why not wrap the champagne in the blanket, to help keep it cold?”
I kiss her lightly on the lips. “You're so smart.” I pull the bottle out of the back seat. I’d noticed the champagne in the fridge and plastic stemware in the cabinet a couple of weeks ago. It is a perfect addition to my romantic cave scenario. So I grabbed both items just as we were leaving. I have no idea who they belong to. Yeah, it’s pretty shitty to just take them, but I do it anyway. All's fair in love and war. Or something like that.
The ax clatters to the bottom of the trunk as I yank the blanket out and wrap it tightly around the bottle.
“Um, we're taking an ax?” Keegan voice is a little uncertain, and her eyes had widen.
“Oh yeah.” I try to look serious. “It's the latest thing in foreplay. Really makes things interesting. You didn't know that?”
I turn away so she won’t see me grinning and put the rolled blanket in the backseat. When I look at Keegan again, she’s still wide-eyed, her mouth kind of halfway between a smile and a scream. I can’t help laughing. “Just kidding.” I kiss her again. “It's to chop wood. For a campfire.”
She punches my arm. “You're going to pay for that, Double D.” She puts the backpack on the passenger seat and reaches into it, pulling out her sunglasses. Then she slips them on and tries to stare me down.
“Nice shades,” I say, flashing another grin at her as I grab Max's collar and start tugging him toward the back yard. “They make you look very glamorous, Madam Editor.”
“Flattery will help you. Keep it up.” She slides into the Coupe's passenger seat and closes her door just as I secure the gate and head back to the car. I can hear Max whining on the other side of the fence. Give it up, you damn dog. You're not coming with us. I can’t help feeling bad, though. Max has both of us wrapped around his hairy paw.
“Nice car.” Keegan inspects the Coupe as I pull out of the driveway.
“Thanks. It was my dad's.” She must hear something in my voice because she puts her hand on my arm and rubs it with her thumb.
“I'm sorry, Blue.”
“Hey, no apologies, bar girl,” I say briskly, sliding on my own sunglasses. I nod at the backpack on the floor by her feet. “Your phone’s not in there, right?”
She slants her eyes at me above the shades and answered with a kittenish smile.
“Right, Keegan? Do I have to search you?”
“The phone is on my bed, sir.” She salutes me. “Just as you ordered.”
“Good girl.”
She pulls up the sunglasses and shoots me a warning look. “Just don’t get used to it. I don�
��t usually follow orders.”
I smile and plug in my phone, cranking up my Sixties playlist. Bryson’s first, of course. We’re on the highway in a matter of minutes, headed west toward Red Rock Canyon. I set the cruise control at 70 and let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. It feels so good to be driving along with Keegan by my side, watching farmhouses and fields, tree-studded hills and dying, one-horse towns slide by in a blur. Even in November, with the grass brown and the trees bare, it’s beautiful. At least it is to me.
I thought about Oklahoma a lot when I was confined to a tank rolling through the parched landscape of Afghanistan. When I finally set foot in my home state again, I understood the stories I'd heard about POWs who would kiss the ground when they returned to American soil. I'd gone weak-kneed when I stepped off the chartered DC-10 at Fort Sill, home for good. And as soon as I could get off by myself, I'd cried like a little girl. Good thing Bill wasn't alive to see that.
Keegan’s staring out the window, seemingly lost in thought. “I can't believe how hot it's been all week,” she muses. “So weird for November.”
“Yeah, the weather's just getting weird everywhere.” I take my eyes off the road for a minute and let them linger on Keegan's bare thighs. “Of course, any weather that lets you wear those cutoffs is fine with me.”
She punches me playfully in the side. Then she runs her hands down her thighs, leans forward, leans back, puts her hands behind her head for a moment and then clasps them in her lap.
“You nervous, bar girl?”
She puffs out her cheeks and then takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. “It’s just so weird not to have my phone with me,” she says after a moment, her hands fluttering. “I hope nothing big happens. It really doesn’t look good for me not to answer calls and emails.”
I put my hand on top of hers. “It’s Sunday. It’s only for a few hours. You need the break.” I squeeze her fingers. “You’re addicted to that phone, you know.”
Again she cut her eyes at me. “It’s what I signed up for, Blue. It’s part of the editor job.” She turns her hand up and interlaces her fingers with mine. “You should come into the newsroom sometime and watch us put out an issue. It’s really cool.”
I bring her hand up to my lips and kiss it. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll come see you in the newsroom if you’ll come meet Bryson and watch us play together. I reworked some of his songs, and I was nervous as hell that he’d be mad, but he really likes them. He wants to record together.” I sound like an excited little kid. I am an excited little kid, when it comes to Bryon and my music, anyway.
“That’s awesome! You’ve got yourself a deal, Blue Danube.”
We drive in silence for a while. Bryson gives way to Leonard Cohen, The Doors, The Grateful Dead, Zappa. There’s a lot of great music still waiting to be listened to when my pupil revolts.
“Okay, I can’t stand it anymore!” Keegan throws up her hands. “No more Sixties music. How about something from the 21st century?”
I make a face, but decide to indulge her. “What would you like to listen to?”
“I don’t know, Taylor Swift maybe?”
I jerk the steering wheel with one hand, just enough for a safe swerve, and clutch at my chest as if I’m having a heart attack. “I will pretend you didn’t just say that. Have you learned nothing in the time you’ve been around me?”
“Oh, please. You’re being dramatic.” She hits the radio button and starts looking for a station that suits her. Finally, she settles on a country song. “There. Happy?” I stick a finger down my throat.
“Fine, Blue. Have it your way.” She hits the AUX button, and Hendrix blessedly pours forth. I offer her an overly sweet smile. “Much better, thank you, bar girl.” She shakes her head. I think I see her eyes rolling behind the glasses.
The landscape changes as we get closer to Red Rock Canyon. The iron-rich soil has turned red, and the rolling prairie grass seems to go on forever. Keegan’s staring out the window, tapping it with her fingers. I’m worried she’s going to hate the whole rappelling idea and feel pressured into doing it anyway. So I decide to go ahead and tell her my plan, give her time to back out if she wants to before we meet up with the rest of the group. I’ve just opened my mouth to speak when she says something that stops me cold.
“He called again last night. At three o’clock in the morning.” She’s still tapping the window. “I had the phone on vibrate and didn’t hear it, fortunately.”
I grip the steering wheel, vowing to torture the sonofabitch, assuming I ever find out who in the hell he is. Keegan looks over at me.
“He left a voicemail,” she adds, her voice somber. “I deleted it without listening to it.”
“Good.” I stare at the road for a minute. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Why don’t you get a new number and new email address? That would seem like the first thing you’d want to do.”
Keegan shifts around in her seat as if she’s uncomfortable. “Because the police told me not to. They said it might really set him off, whatever that means. And they said it would be easier to find him if I didn’t change anything. I’ve stopped using Facebook and Twitter, though. He was harassing me there too.” Her voice quivers, then hardens. I glance over in time to see her lift her chin.
“Besides I don’t want to have to change everything,” she says defiantly. “I shouldn’t have to. I don’t want to change my life any more than I already have. This motherfucker is not going to break me.”
“That’s right, Screaming Bad Girl. He’s not.” I can’t help grinning. It’s cute, the way curse words come out of her mouth a little differently than other words. Keegan is this irresistible mixture of innocence and worldliness.
“Why are you smiling?”
“I was just thinking what an amazing person you are.”
“Oh.” One side of her mouth lifts up in a sly grin. “You know you're getting laid today, right, Double D? You don't have to keep flattering me. Although I don't mind if you want to keep on doing it.”
“Thanks for that clarification. It sure is good to hear.” I raise my eyebrows suggestively. “But I'm not flattering you. I mean it.” I should probably just stop there, but I really want to say more. “I don't want to creep you out, but. . .” She’s staring at me “. . .I couldn't sleep early this morning so I looked you up on my phone.”
Keegan's eyebrows shoot up. “And I read about the blog, about your family, about what happened when they gave you the editor job here.” Her eyes get big and she looks alarmed, but she doesn’t say a word. “And I just want to tell you that I think you're exceptional, Keegan Crenshaw. I'm not just blowing smoke up your ass, either.” Now I detect a bit of a smile from her. “I mean it. What you did, what you're doing. Do you know how special you are?”
For a second, her lips trembles. Keegan looks down at our hands, still clasped together. She opens her mouth as if to reply, then closes it again and turns her face away. We sit there in silence for a few moments. I stare at the road, trying to focus on driving.
Through the Coupe's state-of-the art speakers, Bryson's bourbon-soaked voice begins crooning the slow, agonized opening refrain of Gild the Lily. I've sung it so many times that the words come out of my mouth of their own volition. Keegan turns toward me, listening.
“Hey, I know that song,” she says. “You sang it at the Halloween party, didn't you?”
I nod and keep singing, slowing down as I get close to an 18-wheeler ahead of us. In the left lane, preventing me from passing, some geezer in a Cadillac who’s never learned the Keep Right Rule. Or maybe he forgot it. I sing a little louder:
Perfumed violets, painted gold
To a garnished Heaven, my soul's been sold.
Love's perfection, it once was mine
But I couldn't see, I missed the signs.
Gild the lily, twist the knife
Blind ambition, sh...
I hear a choking sound and glance over at Keegan, seeing the streak of t
ears below her sunglasses.
“Keegan. . .” I turn down the music. “What’s wrong?”
She pulls off the shades and wipes her eyes. “I’m sorry. I have no idea what the hell my problem is.” She smiles ruefully and shakes her head. “I think your song got to me, that’s all.”
“Hey, I already told you, no apologies.”
“Oh, yeah.” She runs a finger down the side of my face. It makes me shiver. I turn the music back up. A few minutes go by, and neither one of us says anything. We’re getting close to the exit for Red Rock. So I open my mouth to tell her what I’ve got planned, but she cuts me off again.
“So I got, like, a dozen texts yesterday from Megz, all of them about Hunter.” She laughs softly. “She goes from being crazy about Hunter to being furious with him to telling me he's probably the guy she's meant to marry to swearing she's going to kill him. And she really means it. I mean, she really means every single crazy text she sends. At the moment she sends it, anyway.” She shakes her head. “Classic Megz. She's pretty volatile.”
I remember the look on Hunter's face when he was staring at the good-looking blonde in the sexy Catwoman costume. “So's Hunter. Maybe they'll be a good match for each other.” I shrug, not wanting to talk about Hunter. “Or maybe they'll burn the house down around each other.”
Keegan frowns, two lines creasing her brow. “Yeah, but Megz is really strong, really tough. She grew up in foster homes, with almost nothing she could call her own. She's had to claw her way up from the worst conditions. She's not a spoiled brat like Hunter. I think she's too good for him.”