by Piper Frost
“Tommy,” she blurts my name, and that sounds like my girl. “Thanks,” she whispers, going back to that sad tone then the call disconnects.
I'm sure the tone is just sadness over her mom dying. I'm sure she regrets never coming back to visit once she left.
I hop on the new Kenshaw horse, Control, and head out to Brandt in the field. Addict ended up not making it and it killed Jo, but she's pretty fond of this new horse. I think this one will be just as trainable as Addict was, which is helpful with their upcoming expansion. They bought the farm fields that butt up to their property so come harvest time they'll be fielding more crops as well as the animals on the ranch.
I find Brandt out in the field and head over to him.
“Hey,” I say, bringing Control to a stop.
“What's goin' on?” He glances over at me, gripping lightly onto his horse's reigns, moving his eyes back to the herd.
“I uh... I'm heading out. Good?”
I don't want to explain to him why. I’m not even sure I believe it, and the fact that she's not going to Bo's but she’s coming straight to my house means Bo probably doesn't even know she's gonna be in town. She told me no questions asked, but I plan on being full of them tonight.
“You just got here.” He chuckles. “Tommy, if ranch hours aren't your thing we can find a different vet. Honestly, I know you're busy at the shop. Tattoo artist and large animal veterinarian is the weirdest damn combination of jobs I've ever seen, so I totally get it.”
It is, but I'm not changing it. I can enjoy doing both.
“It's not the hours,” I blurt, pissed a kid two years younger than me has his shit together more than I do. It's intimidating, and I don't like being intimidated. “I just got a call from an old friend. A pretty important friend,” I mutter. “She's coming back to town today and I gotta be home and not smelling like shit when she gets here.”
“Who is it?” He's curious now but I can't tell him. He'll go straight to Bo; those two have always been inseparable.
“Just a friend. She's older than me, you probably wouldn't know her. Look, I'm almost done with what I needed to do this morning. I'm going to finish up.”
It's not been that long since I started working here, and aside from having the craziest work hours, I actually like it. I'm able to work with the large animals more, something that I didn't get to do as much when my dad and I traveled together. I'm in charge of the chick delivery, and now that Kenshaw Ranch supplies the farm stores in the few surrounding towns, that's a day’s worth of driving every week right there.
“I'm just giving ya a hard time. You know I don't give a damn, as long as you get done what needs to get done. I'm just happy to have the help. Ever since Bo's had to slow down cause that injury, your extra help’s been appreciated. And with him being off all week for his mom's funeral, we're hurting. Whenever you can work helps out.”
“Thanks, man. I'll see ya tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” he mutters. “Burying my best friend's mom. We're too young for this shit.”
“Yeah.” I watch the field briefly, then it clicks that I'm burning time until she gets here and I need to get home and clean up. “I'll see ya tomorrow, Brandt.” My mind's focused on one thing and one thing only. I should be focused on feeling bad for Affton, but I need to see her first. I need my arms around her.
Fifteen years and she's finally coming back around.
“Later.” He clicks his heels and takes off to the other end of the field to round up some cattle that are starting to stray.
I finish up my work in record time and with a skip to my fucking step. Affton's coming back!
On the drive home I call Chase at the shop.
“What's up?” I hear the jingle of the front door bell and smile, knowing he's got a day full of appointments. “You still workin' tonight?”
“Uh, no.” I cringe. “I can't.”
“What? I got shit to do, Tommy, and we got appointments out the ass!”
“Can Grant come in?”
“I'll message him,” he groans and I hear him clicking on the keyboard.
Chase came back and bought the tattoo parlor. Now Disposable Ink's exploded over the last six months and he’s starting to get bogged down. His clients from Vegas found out where his new shop opened the minute his old boss keeled over from a heart attack. Ever since, he's had people driving in from all around to get inked by the famous Chase Haring. He needs another full time artist though. He's got me and Grant part-time, but no one else in this town is talented enough to do the work expected in his shop, and the two of us aren't about to go full-time. I enjoy working with the animals too much and Grant and his stunt-self has too much fun dusting the fields.
“Okay, Grant's got your back this time. But he says you owe him a beer,” he finally answers and I let out the breath I was holding. “Mind telling me why you can't come in?”
“You askin' as my friend or the boss?” I smirk.
“Your friend, you ass.” He laughs.
“Affton will be at my house in about four hours.” It feels so fucking weird saying those words out loud.
“Affton Hart?” Chase used to run with us back in the day so he's one of the crew I know will actually remember her. “Holy fuck, I thought she was gone for good! Back in town for the funeral, I guess?”
“Yeah, but don't tell Bo. I'm not sure if he knows. She's stayin’ at my place.”
“Wow.” He whistles. “Tommy... I mean, she's different. You've seen her social media pages. She ain’t the girl you used to lookout for.”
“She's Affton, Chase,” I say, my heart fluttering because he's probably right but that doesn't change a thing. She's my girl.
“Be careful with her. Big city fashionista girls aren't anything to mess with,” he warns. He’s right. I know she’s different than she was back then, but she's still my girl. I'm about to remind her that what she walked away from wasn't all that bad to begin with. Then remind her about the pact we made if she wasn’t married by now. And from everything I’ve gathered, she’s far from marriage.
“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, bro. I'll see you tomorrow.” I end the call as I pull into my driveway.
Four hours and I have too much to do. I get right to work after turning on my house-wide speaker system. From cleaning out Ginnie's outdoor pen to mopping the floors, scrubbing the counters, and lighting a couple candles. I'm sweating by the time I'm done, but I've never cleaned that thoroughly or that fast before. I've got thirty minutes before she's here, so I hop in the shower and try to scrub the smells of the day off me.
It's ten minutes till six when I see the cloud of dust coming down my drive. The white puffs billow into the air before I see the car. I'm sure she's cussing up a storm right now at the rock road. I yank on a t-shirt and head to the front porch. When she pulls up to the house I feel like my heart's in my throat. I've been waiting for this moment for way too fucking long.
The girl that gets out of the car isn't my Affton. It's not even the girl from the texts we exchanged a while ago. Granted, she's ignored my messages since that day, but I know this isn't who she was back then. Her hair's...short. So fucking short. She looks way too put together to belong here in the country. But she's still fucking beautiful. I knew she changed just from following her so closely online, but it's so much different seeing it in person. I thought the primped look was for the media… This is Affton.
“Beany,” I say, taking the steps down to the pathway slowly. Like my legs can't believe she's really in front of me.
Her pinkish purple lips only partially pull up on one side. She's got a full face of makeup and huge black sunglasses hiding that beautiful face. She slides her fingers through her chin length hair then tugs at her shirt but she doesn't say anything. I walk over to her and wait for my hug but it doesn't come, so I awkwardly take her suitcase and set it on the ground next to me, then pull her in for contact. A tight fucking hug, because my god I've missed her. She quietly groans so I let go immediately and when she
takes a step back, I cock my eyebrow.
“It was a long drive, Tommy.” Her voice almost sounds sick. This doesn't sound like her at all.
“Right.” I walk ahead of her, carrying her bag and when she slowly makes her way up the steps I watch her very carefully.
What's going on with her? I mean, I know her mom died but she was never close to her parents, even when she lived here. She’s moving like it’s hard to even process the task.
She follows me inside and out of the corner of my eye, I see her looking around, but she stays at my back. When I spin around, she flinches and bumps into the table; my lamp starts to spin and lands on the floor with a crash.
“Careful!” I blurt, not wanting her to step on the broken glass. She jumps when I yell and the small line between her eyebrows creases. “Sorry, Just... Don't hurt yourself. I'll be right back.” I head for the kitchen, mentally kicking myself for how this is going.
Maybe I shouldn't have pulled what I did when we exchanged those pictures. Maybe she wouldn’t be acting so awkward right now if that never happened.
When I walk back into the room with the broom and dustpan my steps falter and eyes go wide because she’s on the floor, cleaning it up herself.
“Affton, what the hell? Let me get that. I don't want you cutting yourself.”
She glances up at me, those massive sunglasses still planted firmly on her face and all I want to do is reach over and remove them. I want to see her eyes.
“I'm sorry,” she says with a quiver to her voice. “I'm so sorry. I'll buy you a new lamp. I promise. I didn't mean to do it.”
“It's a lamp.” I laugh it off. “Thing was ugly anyway. My dad bought it for me as a housewarming gift and I haven't had the heart to get rid of it. Thanks for helping me out.” I wink at her then go back to sweeping up the mess.
When she stands, she takes a few steps away and I glance over at her high-heeled feet. Heels. She used to be in cowboy boots or flip-flops. But I gotta say, high heels look sexy as fuck on Affton.
“Bathroom?” she asks in a whisper and I can hear the tears in her voice.
“Um...yeah.” I stand. “Yeah, um...” I watch her, a tear slipping below her sunglasses. “Shit, Beany.” I rush to her and wrap my arms around her, pulling her body to mine. “I'm so sorry, Bean,” I whisper.
“I'm so sorry,” she cries into my shoulder, her arms holding me tight while her body shakes.
I don't know what the hell she's apologizing for, and I sincerely hope it's not the lamp. I hold her, smoothing her hair down, still not used to the short cut but it looks good on her. Everything looks good on her. Even these goddamned heels that make her taller than me.
“Hey, come on. I'll show you your room and get some food heated up for ya. You hungry?”
“No,” she answers abruptly and pulls back, carefully wiping away those tears but not taking off the damn sunglasses. Maybe her eyes are bloodshot from crying? But that's just not Affton.
“Hey, it's evening, you know.” I chuckle and reach for the glasses but she flinches and my stomach drops. That's the third time she's flinched from me tonight. Affton never flinched from my touch before. What in the right hell did the last fifteen years do to her? “And it's way easier to see what other shit you're about to break in my house with these off,” I whisper, regaining my focus and slowly moving to take them off her face. “Hey,” I whisper when they're finally off. “There's my girl.”
“The glasses hide more.” She quietly chuckles, still not acting like herself and it's starting to worry me. Taking her sunglasses, she holds them in her hands and drops her head so we're not making eye contact anymore.
“I don’t like when you hide from me.” I rub the back of my neck. This shouldn't feel so forced. I reach out and take her hand in mine, needing some sort of contact with her.
But that's the minute everything fucking changes.
“Wow,” I blurt, my fingers feeling the massive ring on her ring finger. I let out a loud laugh. “Holy fuck, Affton!” I bark, taking a step back the minute my eyes hit the diamond ring that probably cost more than my house. “Wow. I mean...” I can't finish my sentence.
Here I was, the fucking idiot that assumed a girl like her wasn't married and figuring we could actually start something that we should have years ago. But...she's fuckin' married!
Her chin’s dropped and her gaze stays on the floor, her posture not changing.
“Goddammit, Affton,” I huff, running my hands through my hair and walking over to the couch. “Married! You're married?!” I feel like I could be sick. This is almost worse than when she called and told me about the baby. I... Fuck. “Were you ever going to tell me? Does your brother even fuckin' know? He doesn't, does he? I work with the guy the majority of the goddamned week, he would have said something. Why the fuck wasn’t I invited? When...” Goddammit I'm rambling and she's still just standing there like a fucking statue! “Beany! What the fuck?” I whine, feeling like shards of my heart are dropping to the pit of my stomach.
“I'm sorry,” she whispers, not lifting her head to face me, like all will be forgotten with the word sorry.
“That's all I get? After all this time, and everything...” I shake my head. “That's all you're giving me?”
“When I got pregnant I had to get married. You understand?” Who the fuck is this woman? She's talking to me like if she says the wrong thing I'll attack her or something! Every movement from her has been like she's sorry to fucking be alive! Who the hell is this girl?
“When you got pregnant,” I whisper. That was five years ago. “You've been married for five years…” Nodding, I sit here and stare at my floor. Beautiful floor. A floor I installed in this house because deep down she always raved about loving wide plank hardwood floors like this. “I uh...” I shake my head, unable to clear the fuzz. “I'll show you to your room.”
I have to get away from her to just clear my head. I want to scream. I want to kick her out. Get her out of my life forever. Because, honestly, the only thing I have ever truly wanted is now officially unattainable and she didn’t have the decency to tell me.
I get her to the room and show her the bathroom, not even capable of looking her in her eye. Eyes that just minutes ago I was dying to see again.
“I'll leave you be,” I mutter, turning to walk away. Away from her.
She doesn't say anything to stop me. I'm not sure why I thought she would. Rather, I hoped she would, but I should know better by now. She's living the life she wanted. Away from all of us and this place.
I head out back and Ginnie starts dancing around my feet. “Hey, girl,” I mumble, sliding down and sitting against the house.
Ginnie climbs on my lap and nuzzles in my beard. Usually this is the best, coming out here and spending time with her. She's better than any fucking pet anyone else has. But tonight, it's like she knows my mood. She's calm. She's snuggly.
“I fucked up, Ginnie,” I grumble and scratch her head. “My girl's not my girl.”
I'm not so stupid to think she's been saving herself for me. Lord knows I haven’t. Fifteen years is a long ass time, but you never fully fall out of love. Not if it was real.
She's married. Married! For five fucking years. That means... What we did...
“Oh my hell,” I groan, letting my head fall back against the house. Ginnie’s rough tongue licks at my hand until I start petting her again. I sexted her! A happily married woman! I like to enjoy women, but never married ones. That’s just... Fuck.
Maybe she's not happy. I'd never wish her to be in a bad marriage, but my girl wouldn't do what she did if she were happy. Hell, just looking at her an outsider could tell she's not okay. That's not my Affton. She's about as solidly against cheating as I am. Something's going on with her, and I intend to find out just what the hell it is. She can pretend she's happy for every camera and webpage out there following her life, but I’m her longest friend. Her best friend.
“Fuck this,” I growl, standing and wiping my
jeans off. Ginnie looks at me, bouncing around my feet. “She wouldn't have done that if she was happy,” I say again, firm in my resolution.
I storm inside the house, ignoring the shower water that's still running in her bathroom. The handle's unlocked, so I push my way in, about to give her a piece of my mind.
“Listen,” I blurt, stopping in my tracks when I see her standing outside of the tub. Her scream’s loud enough I flinch. “Fuck!” The air's completely been knocked out of me.
She's turning off the water, her bare back to me, and all I see is red. And purple. And black and blue. All over her motherfucking back. Her panicked eyes hit mine and she swipes the towel off the counter, trying to cover herself.
“Beany?” I whisper, a sudden pain shooting straight through me. “What the hell?” My heart's beating out of my chest. My eyes are about to bug out of my head. There's a knot in my throat and I don't fucking cry. But...my girl. ”Who did this to you?” My knees are weak so I fall back against the wall.
She's not saying anything. My eyes search her face for the girl that I love, but all I see is more bruises that weren’t there when she showed up. More scars. More...pain.
“What are you doing?” she shouts at me before breaking down in tears. “Get the fuck out!” She gestures to the door.
“Get the fu—” I let out a harsh laugh. “What the fuck, Affton? Why the hell are you covered in bruises!?” She flinches at my tone and I growl. “Affton... Beany, why?” I take one step closer to her and want nothing more than to wrap my arms around her but her stance says don’t even try it.
Now I know why she moaned earlier when I hugged her. Because I fucking hurt her.
“Get out, Tommy!” she screams through sobs, trying to wrap the towel around herself in an attempt to hide what I've already seen.
“No.” I slam the door closed, leaning back against it because I feel like I could crumble for my girl right now. “Not until you tell me why you're covered in bruises.”
She angrily swipes at the tears rolling down her cheeks. “When we were kids and you pulled this shit, I would laugh it off. But now, it's...not right! You can't barge in here while I'm naked! What the fuck's wrong with you!” she shrieks loud enough I wince because my ears ring.