“Aimee, are you okay? You look really pale.”
I clutched her arm.
“It was Kes.”
“What?”
“The guy in the red and black leathers—it’s Kes!”
“Holy sh—” she started to say, then bit her tongue. “Are you sure?”
I nodded rapidly.
“Did … did you talk to him?”
“He told me to meet him out back in 20 minutes. Oh my God, Jennifer! What am I going to do?”
She stroked my arm reassuringly. “I guess you go talk to him. I’ll take Dylan to get some food. Call me when you’re done.”
“I can’t!” I gasped. “I can’t do this!”
She grabbed my shoulders and gave me a small shake, letting go quickly before Dylan got too worried.
“You can and you will. You’ve wanted closure for eight years—well, here’s your chance. Just … breathe, okay?”
She threw me another warning look and then walked away holding Dylan’s hand.
I headed toward the exit, my legs feeling stiff and awkward, as if my knees wouldn’t bend properly.
I wasn’t sure where ‘out back’ meant, so I stopped to ask one of the ushers. He looked at me pityingly.
“If you want to get Mr. Hawkins’ autograph, I’m afraid you’ve missed him. He’s finished for the night, ma’am.”
The name threw me until I remembered that the whole motorcycle show was ‘Hawkins’ Daredevils’. Kes had changed his name. But why? Later, I’d find out later.
“No, you don’t understand,” I managed to explain. “He told me to meet him out back.”
The man sighed, his kind face crinkling in a worried frown. “You seem like a nice girl; this really isn’t the place for you. Why don’t you just go on home now.”
I shook my head, my nerves so tight, I felt as if I’d snap. I could almost imagine pieces of me flying through the air, shattered and broken.
“I know him. His name is … was … Kestrel Donohue. I knew his grandfather and … and his brother Falcon.”
The man looked surprised. “I guess you do know him. Well, come this way.”
He led me below the bleachers, the grubby underbelly of the stage above, and out to a parking area behind the stadium. A large silver RV was parked next to a trailer that held five stunt bikes.
The man knocked on the RV’s door. It was all so familiar, yet different. It wasn’t the same RV: this one was much newer and sleeker.
“Lady to see you, Mr. Hawkins,” he said.
When the door opened, Kes was standing there, silent and stern. He definitely wasn’t smiling.
“You came back. That’s new.”
The usher looked at me, shook his head, and walked away.
I stared at Kes. Already off balance, his odd greeting threw me even further.
“You said to meet you ‘out back’. I wasn’t sure what you meant, so … here I am.”
I knew I was babbling, but his slate-eyed stare wasn’t designed to put me at ease. After a long moment, he stepped back, allowing me to enter.
Looking at Kes felt too awkward, especially as he didn’t seem the least bit pleased to see me, so I gazed around the RV’s interior. It was how I imagined a yacht would look, all blond wood and polished surfaces, with a small galley kitchen designed in black and chrome.
Kes hadn’t invited me to sit down, but my legs were shaking, so I plopped down on one of the small built-in sofas and looked up.
He was leaning with his shoulder propped against the door, one long leg crossed over the other and arms folded.
He was taller than I remembered, perhaps by as much as three or four inches, and much broader. Under his t-shirt his chest was well defined, and his biceps popped as he moved his arms. His hair was a shade darker than the pictures in my memory, and his face was narrower—the roundness of childhood long gone. The dark scruff on his chin was new. My Kes hadn’t needed to shave.
I finally met his eyes. Those were the same. Still silvery-gray with the curious dark blue ring around the iris. And now they were staring at me without a hint of warmth.
I licked my lips and watched his eyes drop almost reflexively before he looked up again angrily.
“What are you doing here, Aimee?”
“I came with my sister Jennifer and Dylan. You remember Jennifer?”
My voice was high pitched and falsely bright.
Kes shrugged his shoulders impatiently. “I mean, what are you doing here?”
“I … I wanted to see you.”
“Yeah? Well, now you’ve seen me, you can go.”
I swallowed quickly as tears started to gather behind my eyes. “You want me to go?”
He muttered something under his breath. “Yeah, that would probably be best.”
“But … I don’t understand!” I cried out angrily. “Why are you being so … so cold!”
His eyes closed and he ran his hands over his damp, tangled hair, the curls springing up as soon as he released them.
“Do you want a coffee or something?” he asked, opening his eyes and dropping his hands to his hips.
He seemed to have reached a conclusion to whatever internal war he’d been waging. I was allowed to stay—for now.
“Thank you,” I said, managing to sound calmer although in reality my nerves felt utterly shredded.
I hadn’t had time to expect anything from seeing him; I just hadn’t expected this … this coldness.
He walked into the galley kitchen and turned to a complicated looking coffee machine.
“Black okay?” he muttered.
“Does it do lattes?”
A tiny smile quirked up the corners of his mouth.
That small sign released the stranglehold hope had on my heart.
Finally, he handed me a cup that smelled delicious, with a creamy froth on top.
“No leaf shapes in my foam?” I asked, pretending to look disappointed.
“You should have said. I could have done a monkey riding a unicycle.”
I sighed. “When you opened the door, I half expected Mr. Albert to jump out.”
His expression became somber.
“I was sorry to hear about Dono,” I said, deciding to start the difficult conversation that we needed to have.
Kes’s shoulders tensed.
“How did you know?”
“Sorcha told me and…”
“Sorcha?”
He sounded surprised, but then again everything about today was surprising.
“Yes, I was looking for you, but I found her—she told me about Dono. I felt so bad, like it was my fault or something.”
Kes’s forehead wrinkled. “Run that by me again?”
“Sorry, I’m not making much sense. I suppose because it happened after … well, you know … I’m sure the stress didn’t help.”
He cocked his head to one side, staring at me intently, his dark eyebrows drawn together. Then he blew out a long breath.
“Yeah, not a good time.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
We sat there in uncomfortable silence.
“You seem to be doing well,” I said at last. “Hawkins’ Daredevils—the name suits you. Why did you change it?”
“Long story.”
I sighed. The conversation was more painful than pulling teeth.
He cleared his throat. “Did you go to college like you wanted?”
I smiled. “Yes, I did.”
He nodded slowly. “Teacher?”
“You remembered!”
He nodded again. “Yeah.”
“I love it,” I said. “I’m teaching third graders at a school near Boston and…”
“Boston?” Kes sounded surprised.
“Yes, it’s different. I like it.” God, could I sound any lamer.
“Married?” he asked, looking pointedly at my empty ring finger.
“No,” I laughed, my cheeks flushing. “You?”
He shook his head. “No, but I’m … invo
lved … with someone.”
Of course he was. The disappointment was ridiculous, but there all the same.
“Well, that’s nice. Lucky lady.”
He raised one eyebrow, as if waiting for a sarcastic footnote, but I had nothing to add. Whoever had him was very lucky. I hoped she knew how special he was. Just being near him again had all the old memories flooding back, newly colored with appreciation for the man he’d become.
“So … you’re back in Minnesota for the summer?”
“Not the whole summer, no. Just a quick visit. Catching up with family, you know.”
“Not really,” he said.
Shit. How tactless could I be?
“Um, how’s Con doing? I tried to find him at Northwestern, but, well, I couldn’t.”
Kes was startled. “Northwestern?”
“Well, not recently, of course. But after … I just thought … he might be able to help, or something.”
“Help with what?”
“Jesus, Kestrel!” I yelped, slamming my cup down onto the table. “Finding you, of course! You just disappeared and I didn’t know where you were or what you were doing. I called your cell about a million times, but you never answered and then … nothing. I was desperate! Even if you didn’t want to see me, I just wanted to know that you were okay!”
His cheeks flushed with anger, and I could see that he was gripping his cup so tightly he was in danger of breaking it.
“What do you mean, even if I didn’t want to see you? Of course I wanted to fucking see you! I drove all the way to Fairmont just for five minutes of your precious time!”
His voice was rising with his anger, but I was too shocked to care.
“What? When? When did you drive to see me?”
His eyes narrowed. “Seriously? You’re saying you didn’t know?”
“Didn’t know what?”
“Fuck,” he muttered. “I tried to see you, Aimee. I came for you, just like we’d planned. I was going crazy when you wouldn’t answer your phone. Then Dono found out what I was planning and threw my phone in the bay. We got in the worst fight…” he paused, the memories crowding his eyes. “I called your house so many times, but as soon as I spoke, the call was cut off. I didn’t know what to think. I even wrote you but I never heard back, so I packed up everything and stole Dono’s truck.
“It took me two weeks to get there from Arcata because the fucking thing broke down in the snow, and I got stuck in Rapid City for eight days while I found an auto shop that would let me use their tools to fix it.”
He took a deep breath.
“Your mom answered the door. I remember that. She looked so shocked, I thought she was going to faint. But then your dad turned up.” Kes scowled. “He tried to freeze me out, but I sat outside your house for two hours. I think the only reason he let me in was because he knew I wouldn’t go away. He told me that you’d gone to live with your aunt in Michigan and weren’t coming back.” Kes stared at me coldly. “He said that you’d realized it was a mistake to get involved with … trailer trash … and that you didn’t want me to contact you. He told me that you’d thrown your phone in the garbage.”
I gasped, and Kes looked away.
“I’d used up all my gas money to get to you. Your Dad had to give me three hundred bucks to fuck off. Pretty ironic, huh? At least I could get home. Dono kicked my ass about halfway to Sacramento for that stunt. But he didn’t get sick until two weeks before Easter. We were getting ready for the Spring circuit and … I guess his heart just gave out. That’s what the docs said.”
He looked down.
“Old story now.”
I didn’t know what to say. I felt so betrayed by my parents. I couldn’t believe they’d told Kes such horrible lies about me, that he’d come for me and they never said.
“I thought you’d changed your mind,” I choked, my throat aching. “They didn’t tell me. They didn’t.”
Kes’s expression was sad. “I’m figuring that out now.”
“Yes, they had sent me to Michigan, but I was only there for a month. I came back to finish school. I probably only missed you by a couple of days.” I shook my head, the truth making me feel faint. “Dad smashed my phone to pieces—that’s why you couldn’t reach me. I would never have thrown it away. I wrote to you, but my letter came back, marked ‘return to sender’. That’s when I tried to contact Falcon, but that was a dead end, too. I couldn’t find any reference to you or Dono on the web, it was a nightmare. One of Jennifer’s friends lived in Redding, and she offered to drive out to Arcata Bay to try and find you, but when she got there, the log cabin was empty—abandoned, she said.”
Kes shook his head. “I can’t believe this. We were both looking for each other…”
“At least you knew where I was,” I accused him.
“What?” he snapped.
“You gave up on me!” I shouted. “I waited for you, but one word from my dad and you left with your tail between your legs.”
I knew I was being unfair, but the anger and frustration and loss was pouring out of my mouth in a flurry of ugly words.
“Just back the fuck up!” he snarled.
“No! You back up! How could you be so stupid?”
His eyes blazed. “I’m not stupid!”
“You are! You’re so dumb! You’re as dumb as dirt for believing my asshole father! I didn’t want to live when you didn’t come back.” I looked down, my voice barely audible. “They called it a breakdown, but it was just my stupid heart that was broken.”
The tears broke through my angry walls: eight years of being lied to by the people that should have loved me enough to tell the truth. It was too much. I turned my face away from him and sobbed into my hands.
But then I felt his arms around me, his strong safe arms, and Kes pulled me against his solid body. He murmured soothing words as if he was talking to a wounded animal. And I was wounded, but being here with him now, that small jagged part of me that had been broken for so long began to heal.
After ten minutes of bawling, a wave of embarrassment stiffened my shoulders.
“Sorry,” I sniffed. “God, I must look like hell.”
I dug a tissue out of my purse and wiped my eyes and nose. I was pretty sure that my mascara had run and I looked hideous.
“Better?” he asked, his voice warm with concern.
“Ugh, I feel horrible. I’ve cried all over your shirt. I’m so sorry.”
“Hey,” he said, grabbing my chin and making me look at him. “It doesn’t matter. It’s been a shock. For both of us.”
His fingers drifted down my cheeks, wiping the last of my tears. I felt a cold abandonment when he shifted his body away from me.
Embarrassed and awkward, I combed my fingers through my hair.
“Do you mind if I clean up this mess?” and I waved a circle around my head.
Kes gave a small smile.
“Sure, no problem. Second door on the left.”
I stood up and avoided his eyes as I hurried out.
The view in his bathroom mirror was even worse than I expected. I cringed at the gruesome reflection: red, swollen eyes; disastrous hair; snotty, tear-stained cheeks; and wrinkled clothes that had a smear of ice cream across my tank top, courtesy of Dylan.
I splashed some water on my face and cleaned up as best I could. I wasn’t going to win any awards, but at least I didn’t look like a scary, drug-addicted psycho.
As I walked back out, I wondered where we’d go from here, if anywhere. I hoped we could be friends, at least. I still had so many questions about what he’d been doing for the last eight years.
But my questions died on my lips when I saw two tall, well muscled men who were probably in their late twenties or early thirties sprawled out in the living area. I guessed these were the other riders in Hawkins’ Daredevils.
The one with dirty blond hair turned and stared at me, a mean smirk on his face.
“Who’s been a naughty boy, Kestrel? The boss-lady isn�
��t going to be happy that you’ve been screwing on company time.”
Kes scowled. “Shut up, Tucker. It’s not like that. Aimee’s an old friend.”
“Sure she is,” the asshat laughed.
“Not bad though,” said the dark haired guy who had full sleeve tattoos on both arms. “Although it looks like you had to rough her up some.”
“Shut your fucking mouth, Zef,” snarled Kes.
Yep, these two prizes were Kes’s stunt colleagues. No wonder the usher had warned me to stay away.
Kes held out his hand to me. “Come on, Aimee. Let’s get out of here.”
But before I could do or say anything, the door opened and a stunning blonde woman walked in.
Her skin tight jeans and low cut top screamed look at me, and from the way the two assholes studied her, she’d got the clothes just right.
She didn’t even glance up from the papers she was studying as she walked inside.
“Nice show, boys. Good door receipts. I’ll have the total in a couple of hours. For the next show on Thursday I want you to…”
Then she saw me and her lips curled. “I thought we agreed that you’d keep your tramps out of the RV.”
My mouth dropped open as Zef laughed and shook his head.
“She’s not one of ours, Sorcha. This is all on Kes.”
A frightening look of fury darkened her face, but as soon as Zef said her name, I recognized her.
Sorcha had become a blonde and artificially straightened her naturally curly hair. It looked as though it had been ironed to within an inch of its life. Her tattoos seemed a little faded and she no longer had her piercings. One other thing had changed: I guessed she must have had her assets upgraded over the years, because her tits were definitely bigger than mine, which was new.
My mouth finally connected with my brain as I stared at her. “Sorcha? You’re Sorcha? I didn’t recognize you as a blonde, but your manners sure haven’t improved.”
Kes’s gaze was shuttling between us, a look of complete confusion on his face. Finally he pinned his steely eyes to mine.
“I thought you said you already talked to Sorcha?”
“I didn’t say that!”
“Yeah, Aimee, you did,” Kes said, his voice rising with baffled anger. “You said she told you about Dono.”
Sorcha’s face paled, leaving the tan as a sheen of orange over her skin.
The Traveling Man Page 16