Untamed

by Shey Stahl

  It takes me a moment to comprehend what’s happened and my mind to catch up with what happened.

  “What the fuck, Grayer?” Henry shouts, flinging his door open. It hits Grayer who’s standing there, eyes trained on mine.

  Henry buttons his jeans and then jumps from the truck.

  Grayer’s eyes dart from mine to Henry, and then he’s shoved backward into another car. His head snaps back at the force and into the window. “What did I tell you? I told you to leave her alone.”

  What is he doing out here?

  The shouting outside grabs me and I see Grayer laying into Henry. He’s delivering punch after punch, intent on one thing, inflicting pain that’s coursing through him.

  My shaking hands reach for the handle. I have to do something before he gets in trouble, or worse, hurts Henry too badly. Running around the back of the truck to where they’re fighting, they’re both bleeding, neither willing to give up. Grayer sees me, his eyes completely despondent as he wipes blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and then rushes Henry again.

  “Grayer! Stop!”

  He doesn’t.

  He can’t.

  “What’s your problem?” Henry shoves him back, staggering from the blows but still meeting him head on. “You left her alone. What’d you expect to happen with a girl like that?”

  That’s not what Grayer wants to hear. It’s obvious he’s ready to bleed to death to defend whatever it is he thinks he’s defending. Dropping his right shoulder, he draws back and delivers another crushing blow to Henry’s stomach.

  Henry grunts in response and hunches forward in obvious pain. Grayer then grabs his shirt, fisting the fabric between his hands and then raises his knee to Henry’s mouth.

  “Please stop! Please!” I cry, watching his fist, the fire in his eyes and the blood on his hands. He’s not going to stop.

  His bloodshot eyes meet mine, his fists gripping Henry’s shirt. “That’s the problem, Maesyn. I can’t when it comes to you!”

  Henry falls forward against the pavement, slumping against the side of his truck in obvious pain.

  “You touch my girl again,” Grayer spits blood at him, “and I’ll fucking kill you! Do you hear me?” He grabs a fistful of his hair, snapping his head back. “Do you fucking hear me?”

  Well, no, he can’t when you’ve knocked him out, Grayer.

  “Grayer!” I scream, unheard, lost in the harsh battling storm and Grayer’s adrenaline. “He’s hurt!”

  “Fuck him. Get in the fucking truck.” He jabs a finger to his truck parked on the side of the road. “Now! If you don’t, I’m going to put you there myself!” he snarls, but I hear the torment in his voice. I jump, having never heard him so angry with me. “I told you to fucking leave!” He explodes at me, hands shaking. “This is why!”

  This is why? What does that mean? Rage fills my mind and words. “Fuck you.” I shove him hard.

  His back hits his truck and then he smiles, slow, condescending, but his eyes soften. He knows he pushed too far. “Get in the goddamn truck, Maesyn.”

  Henry coughs and moans in pain on the ground and despite feeling bad that he’s hurt, I should be relieved because had Grayer not come, I know what would have happened. Grayer steps forward and delivers a hard, crushing kick to Henry’s midsection.

  “Jesus, Grayer, was that necessary? You didn’t have to hurt him like that,” I yell until my voice gives and my tears blind me.

  “He’s fine. And yes, it was fucking necessary!” He throws the door to his truck open and then my back hits it. Not hard but my eyes draw to his. “I’m not going to tell you again. Get inside that truck. Now.”

  “No!” I cross my arms over my chest, demanding I stay right here. No way I’m going anywhere with him now. Fuck that. He’s a lunatic. A madman.

  His eyes flare with aggression, hatred, and disbelief that I’m questioning him. He doesn’t wait and lifts me up, setting me on the seat. I go to get out and he glares at me. “Stay in the truck, Maesyn.”

  By the look he gives me, one that demands to be heard with no warmth to his blues, it’s a warning I finally take.

  He walks around the front of the truck, his eyes never leaving mine. He runs the back of his hand over his bleeding mouth and then spits blood. When he gets in, he slams his door shut. I jump at the sound and then the sky lights up with a sudden bolt of lightning followed by the booming crack of thunder.

  “You’re an asshole!” I don’t give up because damn it, he’s going to fucking hear me.

  “I am.” He nods. “I don’t know why you expected anything else of me.”

  Sometimes I’m afraid Grayer’s crazy. Most bull riders are I guess. They have to be to saddle up for an eight-second ride on a one-ton beast.

  Sensing he’s not in the mood for provoking, I wait until he’s not driving. He throws the truck into gear and peels out of the gravel parking lot spraying up rocks in his wake. He takes me about a mile down the road to a hotel room.

  “Don’t you dare run away from me when I stop this truck.” There’s no mistaking the warning in his voice. “This storm isn’t going to just blow over and it’s not safe out here.”

  Though it’s certainly tempting to run away from him, I don’t. I touch my neck, tears rolling down my cheeks. It’s gone. The one piece of Grandpa Lee I had left, and my decisions destroyed it.

  We get inside the hotel room and I want to strip away my wet clothes, but I also don’t want to in front of Grayer. Fuck him. He doesn’t get to see me naked anymore. Maybe never again.

  I collapse on the floor near the bed, crying, and he slams the hotel door shut with his foot. With frustration, he tosses his wallet and keys on the table by the door and then rips his wet shirt over his head. It slaps against the floor and then he leans back into the door, sliding down to a seated position and bringing his knees to his chest. “Fuck!” he shouts, pulling at his hair.

  I see it right then, he’s hurting and on the verge of either blowing up or falling to his knees. It’s a good thing he’s on the ground already because I’m pretty sure it’s the falling that he’s about to do.

  Sometimes a bull rider can be disqualified and therefore receive a no-score even if he stays aboard his designated bull for eight seconds. A bull rider is disqualified if he touches the bull or himself with his free hand during the ride or if his riding hand comes free from the bull rope at any point during the eight-second ride.

  “What did you do with him?”

  Opening my eyes, I try to imagine what Grayer must have seen. Not only in the truck, but with me now. I probably look like shit. Black makeup smeared all over my wet face, hair all over the place, eyes puffed up and tired.

  “I didn’t do anything with him.” I drop my eyes to the ugly carpet. It really is horrendous. My heart pounds against my ribs and I debate on how much more to say. Surely he doesn’t want to know the truth.

  Grayer’s entire body tenses and heats up. “I’m only going to ask you one more time. What. Did. He. Do?”

  He thinks I’m lying to him.

  His voice is hard and demanding. I stare at him, a wildfire brewing behind blue-eyed envy. “What the fuck did he do to you before I came outside?”

  So much for only asking one more time.

  My body trembles, my words shaking. “Nothing. I stopped him before anything happened.”

  His eyes drop to my lips. I shake my head and the next thing I know, Grayer is on his knees in front of me, holding my face in his hands. “Did he . . . fuck you?” The words come out half-strangled, like even he can’t bear to say them.

  My tears fall, drowning my vision in the bad decisions weighing me down. I don’t see Grayer at the moment. I see Jamie and the look on his face that night. It mirrors Grayer’s now. “I’m telling you the truth.”

  “Did he fucking hurt you?”

  “No, you did.”

  Grayer slumps back against the bed, his hands in his hair. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

  I d
on’t like the way he apologizes. It’s just words with no meaning. It’s like he’s looking at something he’s broken, destroyed, and is now trying to piece back together. Like I’m another situation he has to clean up.

  “That’s a shitty apology!” I yell louder than necessary. I’m pretty sure the people next door heard me. “You should be looking at me when you say it, not at the floor.”

  Grayer pulls me to his side. But he doesn’t say anything. He just keeps me against him. Twisting his head, he watches my face closely, my desperation evident. With a frustrated sigh, wanting to get up and leave, but knowing I can’t in this storm, my head leans against the side of the bed.

  “Look at me,” he says, his voice heavy as he wraps a towel around his bleeding hand.

  I shake my head. I never want to look at him again. Anger rises in me, heating and prickling my skin.

  “Do you think I wanted to hurt you?” he whispers, hanging his head, his forearms resting on his knees that are pulled up. His hands find his face.

  “Seemed that way. You told me to leave.” My tears constrict my words, so relentless they won’t quit. “And now what? Because you saw me with someone else you’ve suddenly changed your mind? I’m not some piece of property you can just take back when you decide it’s your turn. I’ve lived like that and I never will again. Not even for you.” The words come out in a rush, as if all of a sudden they flooded my brain and needed to come out all at once before I can breathe right. But even then, once they’re said, I can’t.

  “I’m not saying that.”

  Why try swimming when you’re drowning inside? Can’t he see he’s the one sinking the ship? “Then what are you saying? Because it’s confusing. You told me to leave.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “No, I didn’t because you forget, your brother fell for Haylee. Remember?” I ask, my chest heavy from my labored breaths. “Or did you forget that already? Apparently Ty can have love and bull riding. You can’t.”

  “You should have just left,” he mumbles, so quietly I’m not sure I hear him correctly. I can hear the wind whipping around outside, hitting the window with what could be a tornado. I don’t care at this point.

  “Why?” I whisper over my tears and pounding heart. I count the beats as I wait for him to reply, give me an indication as to what he means by that. “Why did you want me to leave so bad?”

  “Because I knew what was happening between us. You wanted me in ways I couldn’t give you,” he says, that desperation returning. I look at him then, needing to see his eyes.

  My breath rushes out with the words, “You never gave it a chance. You gave it a few weeks and decided for yourself I wasn’t what you needed.”

  “Is that why you left with Henry?”

  “What are you talking about? You’re so frustrating.” I sigh, shaking my head. “You told me to leave, Grayer.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to protect you,” he spits, and I hear the absolute torment in his voice. “You think—” He stops, shaking his head and blinking for a second, like he can’t believe it. Pushing his hands through his hair, he drags them down his face, resting his fingertips on his chin as he begins, so carefully composed this time. “It’s never been like this for me before. Until you,” he says simply, like it’s some sort of statement rather than words. Like it should have been blatantly obvious to me and everyone else all along.

  I should be relieved, but I’m not. Not really. It’s not enough for me. Not after the way he treated me.

  He looks at me, panic written all over his face. “Say something.”

  I have to take a breath. I have to because we’re both getting so worked up that I’m afraid of what we’re going to say next. I know this argument. I had the very same one with Jamie the night he died and I don’t like this one bit. It brings back memories I intended on keeping hidden forever.

  Grayer’s jaw tightens and his face crumbles when he looks at me.

  “You know . . . I’m so mad at you,” I tell him, wanting him to understand my sadness over this. “I came here because I thought you were different. Not that I was expecting you to fall in love with me, but you saw me as me.” He’s listening, his bloodshot eyes on mine. “Every night I used to stare at the stars. They were like these little flickers of hope that I wouldn’t always be this way. And then one day, a guy comes to town and slowly things began to change for me. Suddenly I had hope.”

  “I’m sorry.” Grayer reaches for me, but I push back away from him, not ready for his touch. “I just . . . I got distracted and it scared me. I’ve had one passion my entire life. One way I wanted to live and now I see that a little different, and I’m not sure how to take that.”

  “Why am I a distraction?”

  He shakes his head, not sure how to answer that. “Because I worry about you. I . . . well, you’re not the only one who saw things differently.”

  “If you. . . .” I can’t finish.

  His head is in his hands again, not looking at me. “I love you, Maesyn,” he whispers into his hands. “I didn’t think it was possible, but it hit me tonight like a fucking bullet in the chest.”

  My mouth opens wide when the words register. I stare at him, wondering where the “but” is.

  Though he said it, surely there’s more to that statement. Loves me but can’t be with me?

  He waits for my reaction.

  “But you don’t want me around.” I finish his words for him, wondering if I’m right. “I’m a distraction. So how’s that work? I love you, but I can’t love you? That makes no sense.”

  “It’s not that. It’s just that I’ve never loved anyone like that. And I don’t know how to deal with it. I’ve just found a rhythm with being a dad and a bull rider, but loving a girl, giving myself to her too, I don’t know how I can have that and bull riding. It’s dangerous. You have to be prepared that when I mount that bull, it could be for the last time. Can you handle that? Can you accept the fact that the very thing that provides us with a living could kill me?”

  My stomach burns, my heart pounding erratically as I remember him hitting the ground and the bull coming down on his back. My hands shake, the images of him bleeding and stumbling around. What if he hadn’t been okay? What if it had been more than bruises? What if it happens again?

  “I can’t break your heart like that.” His words are delivered with a certain amount of anger. Like it kills him to say that. “It’s already happened once.”

  “What?”

  “With Jamie.”

  So that’s what he’s fearing? I lost one great love and he’s afraid it’ll happen again? “What about you?”

  Grayer snaps his eyes to mine, stunned, taken aback by my question. His happiness was never considered. In his world, he has happiness. He has Wyatt. He’s making a living doing what he loves. What he never considered was that he could have both. Someone could love him the way he needed.

  I can love him like that.

  I want to love him like that.

  I should be mad at what happened, but I never considered his side until now. He pushed me away because he thought it was the best for me. He didn’t want to break the broken girl’s heart again.

  The problem is, he has already. And he’s the very person who can put it back together again.

  “I want you, Grayer. I don’t care what happens next because I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.” I don’t move from my place next to the bed and he doesn’t move either, his head still in his hands. “I also know I wouldn’t change any of that for the sake of never jumping and getting my heart broken. Break it. It’s yours and I’m giving it to you.” He finally looks up at me. “Rip it apart because at least you gave me the chance to see how that felt. If something happens, if you die bull riding, I’ll know I lived the best possible life even if it was just for a short time.”

  He voice is dull, nervous, as he mumbles, “You shouldn’t have to make that sacrifice for me.”

  “Britany does,
” I point out.

  My statement doesn’t register.

  “They’re together and happy, and every time Reid’s on a bull, it could be his last time. What makes you think you can’t or don’t deserve happiness too?”

  Again, he says nothing, but he’s at least looking at me.

  I smile, uneasy. “We can try. Together.”

  He’s conflicted. He wants to, but he’s scared.

  It’s my turn to say, “Say something.”

  Panic rushes through me when he speaks. “You’re so young, honey. You have your entire life ahead of you. Do you really wanna be following a cowboy around?”

  “Who says I’m following a cowboy around? I’m pretty sure he’s along for the ride too.”

  My words get me a small smile, but it doesn’t touch his eyes. “I know I don’t want to lose you again,” he finally admits. “I just . . . all I thought about was you. For the first time in my life, that didn’t make any sense and I was distracted. I have all these people looking to me to keep up my performance from last year and when I started to slip in the points, I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t want you to get hurt by it either, and then when I got injured, it just sorta got out of hand.”

  “Do you regret inviting me to come?” The words spill from my lips before I can stop them. I need to know if he regrets what we’ve done or me coming here in the first place. I know he told me to leave, but I can’t let that go so easily.

  The corners of his mouth tug into a slight smile, and the memories hit me and my breath catches. He shifts me so I’m straddling him on the floor. His palm on my cheek sends a jolt straight to my heart. It’s such a simple gesture, but it means so much. His eyes beg me, plead for me to see the truth. It’s a warmer smile than I’ve seen in the last few days. “No, that’s not one of my regrets.”

  “I never meant to hurt you by leaving with Henry. I just . . . I don’t know what I was thinking.” And then I take a deep breath because I tell him something I’ve never told anyone before. “Jamie and I got in a fight that night he died,” I admit. “The reason he died was because he was speeding away from my house.”