HORIZON MC

by Clara Kendrick

  “Give me the mitts!” she shrieked, her fingers scrambling against the box.

  “You have to wait until the mitts are on before you get to have a go at the box,” Jack reminded her. “And no teeth. hands only.”

  Haley struggled to find the edge of a seam of tape, the mitts comically large on her hands, as Chuck laughed at the doggedly focused expression on her face.

  “Keep rolling, keep rolling,” Katie urged me, elbowing me in the side.

  “Ha!” I exclaimed, coming up with a pair of twos. “Give those oven mitts over, Haley!”

  She cursed bitterly, but passed them to me, and I started the same scrabbling struggle against the tape.

  “This tape is the worst,” I laughed, trying to bash the edge of the box against the table. “We’re going to be here all night with this thing.”

  “No fair trying to bash it,” Sloan complained.

  “Not in the rules,” I retorted. “I’m using my hands. This falls within parameters.”

  “Snake eyes!” Katie screamed, ripping the mitts off my hands and having a go against the box, following my lead of working to smash the structure instead of grappling with the tape.

  “Hurry, hurry,” Brody chanted.

  “Damn.” Chuck looked on as Katie managed to knock a hole in the box. “Maybe we should just stop rolling, resign ourselves to the fact that she’s got that box open.”

  “Just because she has the box open doesn’t mean she’s won, yet,” Jack said.

  “I’ve almost got this,” Katie argued, jamming one of her thumbs into the hole she’d created. “I told you I was feeling lucky.”

  “Not as lucky as you might’ve thought,” he told her.

  “What shit!” There was another, slightly smaller, much more tightly wrapped box within the first. “This is so unfair!”

  “Sixes!” Sloan cried, holding his hands out for the mitts. Katie only very reluctantly gave them up.

  “That was almost cruel, bud,” I told Jack.

  He laughed. “All in good fun, Ace.”

  When a third box was revealed, after much effort, we all groaned in unison while Jack just laughed.

  “Worst Christmas ever,” Brody remarked.

  “Depends on your perspective,” Jack said. “I’d be awfully careful, though, from now on. No more bashing the box.”

  “That’s not in the rules,” Sloan said. “You can’t just make up new rules in the middle of the game.”

  “I mean, smash away, if you really want to,” Jack said. “I’m just saying you might ruin what’s inside if you do.”

  “Is it a diamond necklace?” Haley asked, starry-eyed. “Please tell me it’s a diamond necklace.”

  “I’d keep your fingers crossed on that one, if I were you,” Jack recommended, just as he rolled a pair of threes. “Excellent. Mitts to me.”

  What followed could only be described as a travesty of terrible luck. We all had unlucky rolls, one right after the other, and Jack, who’d wrapped the package to begin with, started taking his time with getting into it, toying with us.

  “What why aren’t you hurrying?” Haley demanded. “What do you know?”

  “That it’s not worth harming whatever’s inside of this box to get to it,” Jack said. “I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

  “I’d rather be a winner,” I remarked, wincing as I rolled a four and a five. “So close.”

  “Is it a kitten?” Katie asked, realization dawning on her face with a good dose of horror thrown in. “Please tell me there’s nothing alive in that box.”

  “Of course there’s not,” Jack said. “I’m a little offended you would suggest that, honestly.”

  “I had to be sure.”

  “It’s fragile, is all,” he said. “You’ll all understand if I can manage to open this thing.”

  “If you can are you cheating?” Chuck demanded. “Is there a way to cheat at this game? How are you so certain that you’re going to be the winner?”

  “If these dice are loaded…” Brody’s threat trailed off as he passed the dice to Sloan.

  “Can’t take a little competition?” Jack asked, miraculously finding the end of the tape, which had rolled up in the struggle to get the box open.

  “None of us can roll doubles,” Haley groused, passing the dice on.

  “That’s not my problem.” He continued to unwind the tape, the sound making everyone jitter with excitement, quicken the pace of the rolling.

  “Is that the last box, or is there another one after it?” Katie asked.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jack just smiled at her.

  “I think everyone would like to know,” I said. “So we can figure out just what degree of urgency we should be operating under.”

  Everyone groaned and complained as soon as the box was opened and a pretty little bottle of clear liquid was revealed.

  “I win,” Jack announced.

  “What even is that?” I asked, peering at the bottle.

  “It’s a limited edition, very high-end bottle of vodka,” Jack said. “Its value is on par with our prize last year.”

  Haley gaped. “Are you meaning to tell us that you’re holding a 500-dollar bottle of booze?”

  Jack grinned and nodded.

  “Damn,” Brody remarked. “That better be bottle unicorn tears, for 500 bucks. Bottled unicorn tears that make whoever drinks them immortal, or sprout wings, or something.”

  “That thing’s pretty exorbitant,” Sloan said. “You’ve kind of outdone yourself.”

  “Why not just slip another wad of cash in there again this year?” I asked. “Or do you want me to make some 500-dollar screwdrivers for everyone? Maybe some 500-dollar Red Bull vodkas?”

  “Sometimes we should treat ourselves,” Jack reasoned. “And no, you don’t use mixers with 500-dollar vodkas. Ever.”

  “I will make a notation of that in my bartender’s bible,” I vowed.

  “But you could’ve had 500 dollars, and now you’re stuck with a bottle of vodka,” Haley said, dismayed. “Do you even like vodka?”

  “I like that it’s Christmas, and everyone I love is sitting right here,” Jack said. “Yeah, maybe it’s nice to have 500 dollars just lying around, waiting to be spent, but I like that we have this vodka here, now. We can all share it and figure out if it’s really worth its price tag. We can spoil ourselves, because it’s Christmas, and because we’re family.”

  I inadvertently caught Katie’s eye and she smiled at me. We all toasted each other with surprisingly delicious vodka, and made our way to our respective homes.

  “Sorry that my family Christmases are so crazy,” I said, shutting and locking the door behind me.

  “The only thing I’m sorry about was that I didn’t win that crazy game,” she said, smiling warmly at me. “I would’ve pawned that bottle of vodka.” I laughed. “Do you think it was really 500 bucks?”

  “Jack doesn’t do things halfway,” I said. “It was the nicest vodka I’ve ever tasted, that much is for sure.”

  Katie touched her lips. “I know. It was good. I don’t even like vodka but I liked that.” Her face darkened a little. “I don't think Jack likes me very much.”

  “What? That’s not true. Jack likes everyone.”

  She shrugged. “I just get a bad vibe from him.”

  “Really? He’s a good guy. He’s one of my…well, he is my best friend.”

  “I don’t really care whether he likes me or not,” she said. “I know I can be abrasive.”

  “I would like it if the woman I loved and my best friend got along,” I said. “I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  “Ace, it was just a careless comment. An observation.” She wound her arms around me. “Forget about it.”

  “I’m going to talk to him about it.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “It’s not stupid to want you two to get along.” I kissed the crown of her head, smelling the flowery shampoo she used to wash her red hai
r. “Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out.”

  “Later. Think about all that later. Think about…the spirit of Christmas, now.”

  She squeezed my butt in the guise of a hug and I laughed. “I don’t think the spirit of Christmas means sex.”

  “Okay. Pick something else that does include sex.”

  “I don’t need an excuse to be with you.”

  “Just trying to be festive.”

  “I’ll show you festive.”

  We left a trail of clothes to the bedroom, breathing for each other, neither of us willing to surface for air that didn’t include the other. The wind rattled the windows, reminding me that it was cold outside, and that made the heat the two of us generated even more delicious. It might’ve been cold out there, but in here, we could provide each other with the comfort we needed.

  I could taste the vodka we’d sampled as a faint trace on Katie’s lips, and it flavored our kisses. We fell into bed together, the frame squeaking in protest, and I realized that the greatest present of all was Katie.

  “Can I give you one gift?” I asked, and she rolled her eyes at me.

  “What did I tell you?”

  “You’re going to really, really like this gift,” I said, trailing my kissed downward suggestively.

  “Oh I well, that gift is just fine, thank you very much.”

  “I knew you’d like it.”

  I loved the way she tasted, the way she responded to my tongue laving her, sampling her from every angle. And when she dragged me back up her body and kissed me, tasting herself on my lips, I loved that, too, and we made short work of things from there.

  “This was the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” Katie said, her chest heaving.

  “You know, I have to agree with you,” I said, drawing her close to me again, kissing her sweaty neck. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas.”

  Chapter 8

  “Do you ever feel yourself making a mistake, but then you just keep blundering onward anyway?” Katie hesitated for a moment before kissing me, not giving me the chance to respond. We were in bed, in her hotel room, a week or so after the new year, and everything had been going just fine up until now, apparently.

  “Where’s this coming from?” I asked her, tangling a hand in her hair.

  Her blue eyes clouded, she shook her head. “Forget about it.”

  I didn’t really want to forget about itit didn’t sound like something that should be forgotten but she kissed me again, working a hand underneath my shirt. I was aware, in this moment, of all my various shortcomings. That I could be absolutely derailed by Katie giving me a little attention. That something was wrong, but everything was right the way she folded her body into my arms, the two of us pressing together like we were two puzzle pieces bereft of each other, of our interlocking parts being apart. It was cheesy, the way I felt about her. Saccharine enough to trouble me, because I wasn’t a romantic kind of guy. Ask anyone who’d had the dubious pleasure of hooking up with me before. I was a passionate lover, sure, but I just wasn’t boyfriend material. I got bored after a single night.

  Except with Katie.

  I’d cashed in all my vacation days from the bar to spend more time with her. It was like I was addicted.

  After we were sated and showered not exactly in that order I got dressed.

  “What do you have planned for today?” she asked me.

  “I’m going to stop at the bar to say hi to the guys, and collect a check,” I said. “Want to come?”

  “I think I’ll take a rain check.”

  “Okay. Catch up with you later?”

  “Yes, please.”

  I found that I’d missed the bar, even if I had been enjoying my time with Katie.

  “What’s going on, bud?” I asked Jack, slapping him on the back and nearly making him choke on the coffee he was drinking at the booth. “There better at least be some liquor in that coffee.”

  “Ace, we really need to talk.” Every line that marred Jack’s face was carved deep, and he looked even more tired than before. My smile drained away instantly.

  “You’re still not sleeping well?” I asked, worried about him, knowing that I’d been distracted again from caring about my friend. “You don’t look like you’re sleeping well.”

  “This isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

  “I’ll never take a vacation day from the bar again,” I said quickly. “I’m sorry. I know that I’ve kind of got a stash of them because I’ve never taken vacation, and it was probably a dick move to use all of them together like that. If Haley and Brody are upset, I’ll make it right with them. I’ll give them my tips for a week. Two weeks, if it makes them happy. You’ll see. I’ll make things right.”

  “It’s not about that, either.” Jack sighed. “Could we talk in the booth?”

  I didn’t like the way my stomach dropped out from underneath me at that. “Sure. If that makes you more comfortable.”

  “It’s not about my comfort. It’s about yours.”

  Those were some pretty cryptic words. I slid in the seat across from Jack and studied him. He was clearly uncomfortable, and seemed to be working his way up to saying something unpleasant. I hated to see him struggle, even as it became clearer to me that whatever he had on his mind, I wasn’t going to like it.

  “If you need to shit-can me, bud, just do it,” I said. “Haley’s more than capable of handling the bar. If the numbers aren’t right, they aren’t right. I don’t mind. I’ll find something else to do. I always land on my feet.”

  “You think I’m about to fire you?”

  “It’s fine, if that’s what this is about,” I said, spreading my hands in front of me. “I was gone from the bar for a while. You saw that you could run the place better without me, save a little money without having to keep me on staff. I get it. And I’m telling you not to stress about it. I’ll be able to find something to do with my life. I’m flexible.”

  “I’m not firing you.”

  “Then what do you want to talk about?”

  “It’s about the redhead.”

  “Katie.”

  “Yeah, her.”

  I chuckled suddenly. Maybe it was my nerves. “Aw, bud, don’t tell me you’re jealous. You’re still my best friend.”

  Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. “There’s not an easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. I don’t think your redhead is who she says she is.”

  I paused to ponder that. “What, like you don’t think her name’s really Katie Kelley?”

  “I don’t know about that. I just think she might have ulterior motives for being in Rio Seco.”

  “She’s on vacation.”

  “To Rio Seco?”

  I shrugged. “What’s wrong with Rio Seco? I liked it well enough to move here. Katie likes it, too.”

  “The night she showed up at the bar, already drunk…”

  “Okay, I confess. I shouldn’t have served her. You can probably fire me over that, if you want.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Ace, I’m not firing you. I’m trying to warn you.”

  “Warn me of what?” I’d been some mixture of confused and concerned up until this point, but I didn’t like the way the expression on Jack’s face was making the weight in my stomach grow heavier.

  He reached into his pocket and retrieved a folded piece of paper, hesitating for a moment before sliding it across the table.

  “What’s this?”

  “Take a look at it and you tell me.”

  I unfolded it and frowned, not sure what point or warning I was supposed to divine from it. “It’s a picture of me. Granted, not a very good one, but still a picture of me.”

  It was old, my hair was shorter than it was now, and my current beard was just a goatee and mustache set. I squinted at the blue background. It had to have been an old photo I’d taken for an ID, prior to me living in Rio Seco. I’d recently renewed my license to finally reflect the fact that I’
d made my home here. My name my real name, Anthony Cedric Black was scrawled beneath it in a red pen, as well as my current address.

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be looking at, Jack, so you’re going to have to throw me a bone, here,” I said. “Is this a hint that you like me in a goatee and mustache better, because I have to tell you, I think I really rock the beard. You could rock one, too, if you gave yourself a chance. I already think you’re exceedingly handsome when you do that thing where you don’t shave for a couple days. The ladies might not like the stubble, but I think it looks just swell.”

  “Ace, I found this in Katie’s purse.”

  “What?” I blinked at him. “You went through her purse?”

  “That night, when she came in drunk and you took her back to her motel room, and she left her purse on the back of the barstool.” Jack rubbed his mouth. “Maybe a gentleman wouldn’t, and maybe it would’ve been something for me to be embarrassed about, but I found that in there, just folded in half, not even hidden or anything.”

  I hesitated, weighing all the responses I could’ve made. “I don’t think I know a single woman who would tolerate any man boyfriend or husband, and particularly not a stranger going through her purse.”

  “Would it help if I said the contents of her purse spilled out as I was putting it behind the bar for safekeeping, and that’s how I found the photo of you?”

  “Is that really what happened, Jack?”

  “Would it help?”

  I sighed heavily. “I guess it doesn’t matter.”

  “Okay. Then that’s not what happened. I unashamedly went through her purse, trying to figure out who she was and what she was doing here.”

  “You’re a suspicious son of a bitch, Jack.”

  “Maybe I am. And maybe I was just trying to figure out what was going on there for your sake. You’re kind of obsessed with her.”

  “And you were just trying to be a good friend.”

  “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

  “You were just doing what you thought was best.” I refolded the piece of paper. I didn’t like looking at myself, didn’t like wondering what that picture in Katie’s purse meant.