HORIZON MC

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HORIZON MC Page 5

by Clara Kendrick


  “God, I’ve had whiplash from tonight,” I said. “You guys build me up and then tear me down.”

  “Because we love you,” Jack assured me. “Aren’t you going to call dibs on one of those gorgeous strangers?”

  “Not tonight,” I said, shaking my head and taking another pull of my beer.

  As the jukebox paused between songs, you could’ve cut the silence with a knife, it fell so thickly over the booth.

  “What?” I asked, puzzled. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

  “I think we’re going to need some shots,” Brody called, waving at Haley.

  “What did I say?” I was already tipsy. Shots would be overkill, at this point.

  “You’ve got it bad, Ace,” Chuck informed me, as if I didn’t know what was raging inside my own head.

  I groaned. “I don’t want to do shots. I’m too old for this shit.”

  “We’re going to banish Red from bothering you tonight, you hear?” Sloan asked, glee making him look a little manic. “That’s what good friends do. Help each other forget our sorrows.”

  I swore again at the tray of tequila shots Haley brought over, because of course it was tequila. Tequila was no friend of mine, even if the guys were, and had only the best intentions.

  “These shots aren’t going to take themselves, boys,” Jack said, his eyes gleaming.

  One round of shots always turned into two or three or four. Once the first ounce was thrown back, scorching its way down my throat and settling into a slow, not completely unpleasant simmer in my stomach, the others went down easier, the path already cleared. Beer chased and cushioned and cooled, and, goddammit, it was actually nice to focus on something other than the redhead and the mystery she presented, the borderline fever she ignited in me. Right now, I could just focus on good friends and terrible choices in liquor.

  I vaguely remembered twirling around the dance floor with Haley, bellowing along to something on the jukebox to which I only knew a couple of the words of the chorus, then Chuck and Brody laughing on either side of me as I struggled to get my legs to stop wobbling beneath me.

  “We got you, Ace,” Chuck assured me, and maybe I really was drunk, because it was damn good to hear that, and I think I babbled something along those lines.

  “Let’s go, buddy,” Jack said, opening a car door. “Into the paddy wagon.”

  “I was going to walk,” I spluttered, a little indignant.

  “Change of plans,” Sloan said, popping his head out the open door and pulling me inside. “It kind of looks like you’ve forgotten how to walk, so we’re improvising.”

  “Who’s driving this thing?” I asked as he managed to buckle me in. Everything seemed incredibly complicated.

  “Please keep all limbs inside the moving vehicle at all times,” Haley said sweetly from behind the driver’s wheel, elbowing the arm rest out of the way as the rest of the guys piled into the SUV. I was dead in the middle in the backseat. “There will be no expulsion of bodily fluids of any kind inside this vehicle.”

  “Why are you looking at me?” I asked, only dimly aware that I was slurring my words. “I’m not going to puke in your car.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” she said. “Who’s first?”

  “Ace lives closest to the bar,” Jack said, turning from the front passenger’s seat to grin at me. “And he’s the one who’s the most fucked up.”

  “And he’s also the one sitting in the dead middle of the backseat,” Haley observed. “Poor planning on that one.”

  “It’s not poor planning,” Sloan said. “We put him in the middle so he wouldn’t accidentally tumble out one of the doors.”

  “I’m not that drunk,” I insisted.

  “Hey, no shame,” Brody said, patting my knee affectionately. “We aimed to get you drunk, and we achieved our goal.”

  “But I’m really not that drunk. Really.”

  “I believed you the first time.” Chuck was in the middle of the front seat, somehow, wedged between Haley and Jack even though he was one of the biggest of the group. “But the second time makes me wonder.”

  “The Ace doth protest too much,” Jack agreed. “Let’s get him home, Haley.”

  “Here we go,” she agreed.

  If it was a ten-minute walk from the bar to my apartment, it was just a couple of minutes to drive. But somehow, I found it in myself to fall asleep for a brief nap, snug and comfortable in the backseat, packed in like sardines. Waking up was almost painful, Brody gone from my side, the door open, and cold night air rushing in and making me shiver.

  “We’ve reached your stop, Sleeping Beauty,” Sloan informed me, shoving me toward the open door. “That’s some kind of talent, man, being able to fall asleep wherever and whenever.”

  “Superpower, maybe,” Jack said. “You with us, Ace?”

  I grumbled at being rousted from comfort.

  “Your bed’s just in there,” Brody encouraged. “Come on, Ace. We got you.”

  “It’s cold,” I complained, but I managed to find my feet in the gravel parking lot of the apartment complex.

  “It’ll be warm inside your apartment,” Brody assured me, giving me a hug. “Have a good night, Ace.”

  “Need one of us to tuck you in?” Haley joked, grinning as she rolled down the window.

  “Are you offering?” I asked, turning and stumbling a little bit as I raised my eyebrows. I’d never made a serious pass at Haley, mostly because of Chuck, who had never called dibs but was somehow caught between being relentlessly protective of her and insanely oblivious of just how in love with her he actually was. It seemed like everyone except Chuck realized he had some form of deeply felt sentiment for Haley, and we all had steered clear of her romantically because of it.

  Chuck leaned over Haley to frown at me out the window. “Move it along inside before I tuck you in.”

  “I’m going, Chuck, I’m going. Christ. I wasn’t going to”

  “Hope this helped you forget about the redhead,” Sloan shouted, waving at me out the backseat window.

  Well. I had forgotten briefly about her, but now she was back in the forefront of my mind.

  “Thanks for that,” I said, feeling my face tighten into a grimace. “Good night.”

  I felt simultaneously too drunk and not drunk enough, if such a thing was possible, and I dropped my keys twice trying to fit the right one into my door’s keyhole.

  For all the alcohol I’d had that night, it was an awful challenge to try and find my way into slumber.

  And even when I did sink into sleep, I was haunted by the color red.

  Chapter 3

  We had Haley helm the bar the day of the fundraiser, but we needn’t have bothered. Nearly the entire town as well as some visitors from the next town over who’d heard about the event came out to try their chance at raffles, eat hamburgers and hotdogs, and raise money to revitalize the very park that was hosting the whole thing. The weather, unseasonably warm for winter, probably had a lot to do with it. The park itself, like most of Rio Seco, had seen better days. What grass there had been had long ago burned off thanks to the scorching sun, lack of irrigation, and piss-poor planning for trying to have a lush, green lawn in the middle of a desert. We were aiming to raise money to build shady spots around the property, to plant more native vegetation, repave a walking path, and install brand new playground equipment. The playground that stood today looked like it had barely survived some kind of disaster in a post-apocalyptic blockbuster.

  All the proceeds from what we sold of food and raffle tickets were going toward the park revitalization, since we’d used club funds to purchase everything that was donated from other companies in town. I sweated at the grill until a sympathetic soul rigged an umbrella to a post to get me some shade. Other kind-hearted residents kept bringing me beer, which did little to hydrate and even less to get me drunk, since I was sweating it all off immediately. I didn’t mind, though. I enjoyed cooking out, and it was all for a good
cause.

  Sloan was at the picnic table we’d designated for selling the hotdogs and hamburgers I was cooking, working to hawk coolers full of cold beverages and individual bags of chips. Brody and Chuck were plying people with raffle tickets, while Jack was running himself ragged welcoming everyone and steering them around, urging them to call everyone they knew to get them down here to raise even more money. Jack had a knack with people. Everyone he met was instantly a friend, and the droves of people who kept coming up to him were a testament to that. Maybe I should’ve sent him in to ease my way with the redhead… No. I refocused on the grill, making sure I didn’t burn anything, popping cheese on half of the burgers, distracting myself with the work.

  “Nice apron.” Jack had sidled up to me, a couple of bottles of beer in hand. “Careful, or someone might try and take you up on that.”

  I glanced down and laughed at the lettering “kiss the cook” and took the beer from him.

  “Are you going to be the one?” I teased. “This batch is about done.”

  “I’ll take everything over to the picnic tables,” he said, grabbing a tray. “Pretty good turnout.”

  “It is. I think we’re going to make our goal and then some, don’t you?”

  “Maybe if we charge people to kiss you.”

  “I’ve given it away for free often enough that I don’t think anyone here in town would willingly pay for it,” I admitted. It gave me no pleasure. It was just a fact.

  “Uh-huh.” Jack took a swallow of beer. “What about a pretty redhead who isn’t from here and doesn’t know any better?”

  My breath caught in my throat and I wheeled away, belatedly noting Jack taking the opportunity to snag a hotdog for himself.

  “You’re an asshole,” I said, my breath whooshing out of my lungs even as my eyes darted around the park, desperate for a glimpse of red in the sea of people. “Really, bud, a true asshole.”

  “I couldn’t resist,” he said, talking around the piping hot meat he juggled from hand to hand. “You just looked so expectant oh my God, you are expecting her, aren’t you?”

  “I might’ve told her about the event.”

  “Jesus, Ace. You’ve got it bad.”

  “I don’t have anything. There’s nothing.”

  “She’s freezing you out?”

  “I don’t know what she’s trying to do. If she’s trying to do anything, it’s working. I don’t know.”

  “Poor Ace. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you worked up like this over anything. Well, in my limited memory, you know.”

  “I’ve never been worked up like this over anyone,” I assured him, dragging a hand through my hair. “Have you ever had anyone in your life drive you this crazy?”

  “You mean besides myself?”

  “Yes, bud, besides yourself.”

  He gave a casual-looking shrug that was anything but. “I wouldn’t really have a way of knowing, would I?”

  I sagged. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think”

  “It’s fine. I deserved it for making you think your redhead had made a surprise appearance.”

  “Jack, seriously.”

  “No, I am being serious.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “I hate the way people look at me, the people who knew what I went through. You treat me like I’m normal.”

  “You are normal.”

  “I don’t feel normal, sometimes.” His voice was faint, and I forgot about everything, my heart going out to him.

  “Talk to me, bud. Tell me what’s going on with you.”

  “It’s these goddamn dreams, Ace. They’re not going away.”

  “The nightmares, you mean.”

  “If I could just get a good night’s sleep, I think it would solve everything, honestly.”

  “Are they still the same, your nightmares?”

  “I’m still the star of the show, sure.” The closer I looked at Jack, the more I noticed how tired he looked, his eyes a little sunken into his skull, the circles lining them deep and purple. Jesus. I’d been so caught up in the mystery of the redhead, in my own insecurities, that I’d been a shit friend, not noticing when something was really wrong with Jack.

  “It can’t be easy watching yourself die again and again, night after night,” I said.

  “You can say that again.”

  “You need to get some help.”

  “I don’t know how that could work for me.”

  “It works just fine for loads of people,” I reasoned, keeping my voice even. “You shop around until you find someone you can stand to talk to, and then you sort things out. They could probably even prescribe you medication to help you get that good night’s sleep you’ve been missing out on.”

  Jack’s face pinched in on itself. “I don’t want to be taking handfuls of pills every day, not sure if my mind is my mind or just a cocktail of chemicals in my bloodstream.”

  “You’re looking at it the wrong way.”

  “You might feel differently about it if it was your own brain you’d be fucking around with.” Jack sighed. “Those hotdogs are burning.”

  “Shit.” I removed them from the flames and dropped them onto the platter. “They’re just a little well done, is all.”

  “I’ll take them right now.”

  “Jack, wait.”

  He scuffed his boots in the sparse grass, clearly not happy.

  “What have you tried so far to get rid of the dreams?”

  “I’ve tried drinking myself to sleep, exercising myself to sleep, fucking myself to sleep, smoking, and meditation.”

  I cracked a grin, in spite of everything. “I would give anything to see you in the lotus position.”

  “Very funny. You’re a comedian.”

  “All I’m saying is, if none of those things have worked so far, keep trying things. Try talking to someone about it and see where it gets you. The answer might not be medication. It could just be figuring out why you’re dreaming those things and how to reframe everything so you don’t have to see that anymore, every single night.”

  “I’ll be damned.”

  “I know. Even I can have some deep thoughts every once in a while.”

  “No, not that.” Jack stared past me, dumbfounded. “It’s the redhead.”

  “Hell, no.” I refused to look, even if I wanted to. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, that’s on me. You’re not getting me again.”

  “I’m not joking. She’s right there.”

  “You can take all of that good advice I just gave you and shove it up your ass.” I reached into the cooler beside me and unwrapped some more hamburger patties. “I’m cooking, here. I don’t have time for this.”

  “She is looking right at the back of your head.” Jack gave a tiny wave, and I shook my head at him, disgusted that he was really going hard for this, to sell the prank to me. “Don’t be that guy, Ace.”

  “What guy?”

  “The one who ignores the most interesting thing that has happened to him in ages.”

  “I’ll have you know that I have a very interesting life.”

  “Uh-huh.” Jack didn’t sound very convinced. “You’re languishing.”

  “I am not. I’m Ace Black. I don’t languish.” I puffed out my chest. “I conquer.”

  He laughed. “There isn’t much left in Rio Seco for you to conquer, I’m afraid.”

  “How can you suggest that? I love this place.”

  “You don’t miss being a cop?”

  The question came out of deep left field. “What? Why would I miss that? I left that life, if you’ll remember.”

  “I remember. I can’t lie and say I’m not glad. Wouldn’t have met you, otherwise. I’m just thinking that you might be bored.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Rio Seco is pretty sedate compared to what you’re used to, and you’ve been here over a year.” Jack balanced the tray on one hand. “Talk to the redhead. She’s coming over here.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Get that meat ove
r to Sloan before I kick your ass to prove to you just how bored I really am.”

  “Like you could take me.”

  “I could absolutely take you. Hang around and see.”

  “Good luck.” Jack raised his eyebrows meaningfully at me before turning on a heel and making his way across the park. I thought he was talking about the odds of me kicking his ass and was seriously considering proving to him that the fifty pounds he probably had on me was nothing compared to how wily and mean I was, when someone cleared their throat behind me.

  I turned, opening my mouth to explain that all food was to be purchased through Sloan, over at the picnic tables, when my jaw just about dropped to the dusty ground.

  The redhead stood behind me, her eyes hidden behind oversized sunglasses, her expression inscrutable.

  “Holy shit,” I managed to stammer out. “You’re really here.”

  “Holy shit,” she mimicked. “Your gang really is hosting a fundraiser.”

  “Thought I lied about that?”

  “Admitting you’re part of a gang?”

  I held my hands up in an attempt to disarm her. “You know, there are hamburgers and hotdogs over there at that picnic table for sale, if you’re hungry. They’re pretty good. I’m good at the grill. If you’re feeling super charitable today, and maybe you are, if you’re talking to me, you can even buy a raffle ticket. It’s all for the park.”

  She cocked her head at me. “Are you trying to get rid of me, Ace?”

  “You don’t have to stay here and talk to me, if that’s what you’re afraid of. Feel free to roam. Mingle. Turn that charm on other guys.”

  “Wow.” Her mouth smiled, but I couldn’t be sure what her eyes were doing behind those shades. “I’m starting to get the impression that you don’t like me very much. Careful. You’re going to hurt my feelings.”

  “I don’t like you?” I laughed, incredulous. “You don’t like me. At all. I don’t know why. I think I’m a pretty nice guy.”

  “Think pretty highly of yourself, do you?”

  “See? This is what I’m talking about. I don’t know what you have against me. I don’t have anything against you. I just don’t know why you’re treating me like, I don’t know, the scum of the earth.”

 

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