by Vanessa Vale
Lucas scowled at me.
I sputtered, stunned by what he was saying. “What’s wrong with wanting to be together, to have fun?” I countered. Hadn’t they wanted to be with me? They’d certainly seemed content fucking me. “People do it all the time.”
“To stall,” Cy added.
“To fuck,” I snapped, not liking this at all. He made it sound like I’d been using them.
“To stall,” he repeated.
I stood then, pointed at him.
“You’re one to talk. You’ve been avoiding your dad just as much as I’ve been avoiding talking to Mark. You used this week the same way I did.”
“She’s got you there, asshole,” Lucas muttered.
Cy tilted his head, ignored Lucas. “I haven’t seen my dad since I was nine. This week didn’t change anything.”
“Oh? You’ve been hiding out in your house. You said so last week when I showed up. Avoiding town. The only way you’re going to get resolution with your dad, to know why he claimed to have killed Erin, is to confront him. You’ve been hiding from the reporters, but really, you’ve been hiding from the truth. Your dad has more answers than just having to do with Erin’s murder.”
Cy circled his finger in the air around us. “This whole thing isn’t about me.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m the one with the plug in my ass.”
God, I was standing there with my pants halfway down, my ass probably bright red, and a plug was shoved inside me. They could see my pussy, the way my thighs were still wet, although I was no longer the least bit aroused. Reaching back, I pulled out the plug. Carefully, slowly, and with a wince. It wasn’t that great a feeling when I wasn’t into it.
I dropped it to the floor then yanked up my panties and jeans.
“Yes, I did petty shit to get you to spank me. I seem to need it. The release. Like you said, I’ve lost control and you give it to me. Yes, it totally sounds weird. I just hadn’t realized I’d been acting out because of my job. I see it now. And you’re right, I do need to come to terms with what I’m going to be when I grow up.”
I finished fumbling with the button, then stepped back. Pointed. “But you, talk about cranky. You’re the king of avoidance. God, you pulled a rifle on me when I first showed up because you were pissed about your dad. So, don’t get all righteous and bossy when you’re the one who needs to get his shit together.”
Lucas laughed, shook his head.
I went to the little table by the front door, grabbed Lucas’ truck keys—my SUV was still at the mechanic’s—and my bag, looked to him. “I’m taking your truck and going to your house. Alone.”
“Doll, wait,” he countered, standing up. “We need to talk about this. You need to know I feel like what we have is more than fun.”
I loved Lucas, knew Cy’s actions—or inactions—weren’t his issue, but still. I didn’t want to be hugged and coddled right now. I wanted to stew in my anger for a little while. Drink some wine, fume. “This wasn’t supposed to get heavy, Lucas. Fun. Fun. FUN. I wasn’t trying to get my heart involved. Or yours. It hurts too much, to lose the things you want.”
“Then don’t push me away,” he said, his pale eyes pleading. “You’ve got me. I’m right here. I’m all in. And so is Cy if he ever got his head out of his ass.”
“I want to be alone, Lucas.”
He studied me, then nodded. “All right. For now.”
I exhaled, relieved he didn’t push to come with me. I needed time to be angry.
“I’ll handle Mark. My parents,” I told him. Then, to Cy, I added, “Let me know when you deal with your dad. Until then, go stick that plug up your ass.”
11
CY
* * *
“Want me to come with you?” Lucas asked as he climbed from my truck and shut his door. He leaned back against it, crossed his arms.
It had snowed overnight, leaving a dusting of white over everything. My breath came out in a white cloud. Thick clouds hung low, dark like lead, just like my mood. There would be more snow before the day was over.
I came around the front of the vehicle and faced him. “Hold my hand, too?”
Lucas slowly shook his head. “Asshole,” he muttered.
I looked to my father’s house, shut my eyes. The place had been built during the great depression. A small, squat box with wood siding. Two windows flanked the front door. Fifty years ago, it may have been blue, now it was an uneven gray with paint flaking away. The roof needed to be replaced, patched here and there as if the owner couldn’t afford more than a quick repair job. The whole house sagged to the left. The lawn was non-existent, a mix of dirt and tall weeds. The concrete walkway from where we parked on the unpaved road to the front door was buckled and heaved. The farmland that surrounded the house hadn’t been plowed in years, from the looks of it. I had to wonder if it was part of my father’s parcel or if he only owned the small bit of yard along with the house. The nearest neighbor was a half a mile down the road.
The place was a fucking mess. It was unbelievable my father had walked away from me and my mom for this.
“You’re here so I don’t kill him. That’s all,” I reminded.
“And you’re here because Hailey handed you your fucking ass.”
The fucker was right. After Hailey had stormed out, I’d received a second telling off by Lucas. Not only had I pissed her off enough that she didn’t want to see me, but she hadn’t wanted to see him either. If she’d said the word fun one more time, I figured Lucas would have spanked her ass.
Had she really thought all we were doing was fooling around? Having a good time? We’d been sprayed by a fucking skunk together! If that wasn’t bonding, I had no idea what the fuck was. And now he was pissed at me. Watching me. Hell, he was babysitting me so I’d get this over with so we could get back to Hailey. He’d made it very clear he’d had to jerk off in the shower instead of getting inside our girl. I was officially a cock blocker and going to get more than a verbal beat down if I didn’t get this over with.
As for Hailey, I was going to have to fucking grovel.
He’d stayed the night at the ranch, giving Hailey the room she’d wanted. He’d texted her, which had reassured him she was fine.
I glared at him now, but he wasn’t fazed. This was my shit show, and he was only here for backup.
Hailey was right. I had to confront my dad. I had to know the truth. It was eating me up not knowing. There were seven billion people in the world, and just one was ruining my life.
I wanted Hailey in it. I wanted her over my lap. Under me. Any way I could get her. Turned out, Lucas and I were right for her. I was right for her. I gave her something she needed, something she only got from me. And in return, she gave me something. Love, although she’d probably throat punch me before admitting it, and her trust.
Her trust was like a drug I couldn’t live without. And that was why I was manning the fuck up and dealing with my dad.
And the glare Lucas was sending my way.
“Fuck,” I breathed, then made my way to the door.
It opened before I could knock.
My breath caught as I got my first real glimpse of the man who’d made me since I was nine. There had been footage of him as he’d left the police station, his mug shot. I knew he’d aged, but now… he looked a decade older than fifty-five. I remembered his dark hair—something I got from him—but it was white now. Thinned. His face had deep creases as if he were a pack a day smoker. His eyes were droopy, his clothing too big for his frame. I also got his height, but his shoulders were stooped.
This was a shell of the man he once was.
“I heard you pull up.”
Of course, he did. There was nothing else around. The sound of my truck couldn’t be missed unless you were dead.
“Why did you do it?” I asked. I wanted answers and I wanted gone.
“Come in,” he offered, stepping back. All I could see of the interior was sparsely furnished. Old.
“No. I
’ll stay right here.”
I didn’t want in his house, in his life. I just wanted answers.
He gave a slight nod of understanding.
“Why did you do it?” I repeated.
He scratched his head, and I watched dandruff fall like snow onto his gray sweatshirt.
“Left your momma?”
There was so much I wanted to know, but it had been eighteen years. Too much time. Mom was gone now. What did it matter?
“Why did you say you killed Erin Mills?”
“I figured you wanted to know why I left you.”
“Fine, tell me.”
I felt silly standing on his front stoop. We probably looked silly, him letting all the warm air out of his house.
“The mill closed. I lost my job. There was no work for me in Cutthroat anymore. I began to drink. To gamble. Let’s just say I lost more than money.”
I made a funny sound, like a laugh, but it wasn’t funny. “All the shit Mom had to deal with all because of excuses that took you two seconds to say.”
I wasn’t sympathetic at all.
“It was complicated.”
“It was life,” I countered. “You had a wife, a child. You should’ve manned up. Got a job at the fucking Quickie Mart by the highway.”
His dark eyes narrowed and my heart skipped a beat, recognizing the same gesture in myself. “I did. I manned up. I let you two go. I wasn’t worth it.”
“She worked two jobs. Two.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“She worked herself to death.” I pointed at him, let my arm drop. “And you… you’re still alive.”
His lips pursed, but said nothing.
“Why did you say you killed Erin Mills?”
“You asking or is Lucas?” He tipped his chin in Lucas’ direction.
“Everyone in Montana’s asking. I figure I have the right to know more than any of them.”
“I manned up.”
I stared at him, waiting for more. “What the fuck does that mean?”
He shrugged his bony shoulders.
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
“That’s it.”
I took a step back, stared at the man. He was a stranger to me.
“You have nothing else to say?”
He blinked, then again. “Cyrus, you won’t believe me, but I’m proud of you. I’ve followed you, watched you turn into a man. A good man.”
My heart ached. Not for the stranger in front of me, but for the father who had disappeared, who I’d hoped to have had. Who’d never existed.
“Because of Mom.”
A tear slid down his weathered cheek and he wiped it away. “All because of her. You might look like me, but looks aren’t everything. You’ve got her heart. Her soul.” He cleared his throat. “Goodbye, Cyrus.”
He shifted, then closed the door.
I stared at it, realizing I’d gotten jack-shit out of him. I still had no idea why he’d claimed to have killed Erin. Glancing over my shoulder, I looked to Lucas. He hadn’t moved. Should I bang on the door, force him to tell me? He was weak and pathetic. I’d beat the words out of him in seconds.
I’d gotten closure with the guy. He was nothing like I’d been hoping he’d be. Still thirty-seven years old and full of life and loving my mother, being a father to me. He hadn’t been that man for a long time.
I mourned the loss of the father who had disappeared, but I didn’t want who he’d become. My mom had been better off without him. Maybe he’d known that and stayed away.
I turned on my heel, walked back to my truck.
“Well?” Lucas asked.
I shook my head. “He wouldn’t say.”
I wasn’t going to tell my best friend that my father had told me he’d falsely admitted to murdering his sister because he’d manned up. What the fuck did that mean?
“Don’t you want to find out?” he asked.
I ran a hand over my beard, sighed. “If you want, I’ll kick the door in and make him talk.”
Lucas looked toward the house. “I want to know. Fuck, I do. But this was about you. About closure or forgiveness or some shit like that.”
I opened my truck door, my gaze looking past Lucas to the house. “There’s nothing here. I lost him years ago.”
I had. I just hadn’t realized it. Dennis Seaborn had been dead to me since I was nine. I just hadn’t buried him. Now I had.
“That’s fucking closure right there.”
12
HAILEY
* * *
Cy was right. I had to face my shit. And I’d been using him and Lucas as a way to delay the inevitable. And I’d been doing that with them, using them to put it off. When it changed from just a good time to something more, I had no idea. Maybe it was the first time I saw Lucas at the mud run. Maybe it was when Cy and I had been sprayed by that asshole skunk. Maybe it had been building all along. I’d not only gotten exactly what I’d wanted, an amazing time with two men, I’d gotten exactly what I hadn’t wanted.
Love. And that scared the shit out of me. Enough to drive them away. To run away. To avoid. Again.
Ever since I’d told them I wanted to quit, I hadn’t changed my mind. Of course, it had only been overnight, but I knew it would stick. I’d still ski, that wasn’t going to change, but I wasn’t going to compete anymore.
I hadn’t told them, but I’d lost my nerve. That accident had been brutal and to shave off the difference between winning and something like eighth place—which sometimes was less than a thousandth of a second—was to go all out.
I couldn’t do that anymore. I didn’t want to. Not if it risked so much.
I’d lucked out that I’d only needed knee surgery.
Even though I was decided, I wasn’t thrilled to tell that to Mark. My parents had been easy when I’d called. They understood. Perhaps, they were content with me giving it up because I had wiped out so badly that it had shaken them, too.
They wanted me happy, but they also wanted me alive and in one piece.
Mark didn’t have any skin in the game when it came to my career. At least not blood. I was his cash cow and he was driven not for me, but for himself.
If I quit, he lost his cut. He lost the recognition of being the champion’s coach. The connection to the sponsors, to the big-league players in the racing world. I was his meal ticket.
It was time to live my life for myself, not for a dream that I’d had since I was a kid, not because I wanted to be like my mom.
I wanted to be me. And if I were truly honest, I wanted to be with Cy and Lucas. For more than just fun.
As for a job, I had an idea. I wanted to lead some group trips for Lucas’ non-profit. Ski trips. Whether they were just day outings to Cutthroat Mountain or winter camping trips where we cross country skied into the backcountry. Either way, it sounded ideal. Fun. Calm. And with people who could really use my help and guidance.
Maybe I’d even teach a few kids’ classes at the resort because I remembered what it was like to first discover the thrill of racing down a mountain, even if it was the flattest of green runs.
I’d texted with Lucas. I wasn’t mad at him, only afraid of what loving him meant. And, it wasn’t his fault Cy was an asshole sometimes. I was amazed he’d given me space, allowed me to be pissed, to think. The downside of having two men in my life is that I didn’t have a lot of time to myself. To stew. To drink more wine than I should have.
He knew I was meeting with Mark this afternoon, was okay that we’d meet at his house. I knew Mark would be angry, and I didn’t need him to make a scene at a restaurant or any other public place.
When this was over, I’d go to the ranch. Talk it out with Cy. I didn’t hate him. The opposite. I loved him. I really did. Crazy, definitely, but I was wired crazy.
We’d argue perpetually, definitely more than me and Lucas. But he was worth it. And if he never wanted to deal with his dad, I didn’t blame him. Me avoiding Mark and him steering clear of the man
who’d abandoned him as a child, then fucked with Lucas’ family, was something else entirely.
The doorbell rang and I smiled, resolute in my plan, eager to get back to the ranch and my men. To make it right with them. God, the makeup sex we’d have!
I was finally eager to talk with Mark, to get it over with, so I could move on with my life.
“Hey,” I said, when I opened the door for my coach.
He lifted his chin in reply, came inside. I hadn’t seen him since the mud run, the day I’d met Lucas. He looked the same, perhaps his tan had faded a bit.
He was in his usual uniform of track pants and a fleece pullover. He was in his thirties, attractive, although I’d never been into him. He’d raced for the Olympic team, although he’d never stood on a podium. Never got close to it.
“This where you’re shacking up now?” he asked, looking around. For all of Lucas’ family money, his place was pretty tame. An old miner’s house from the early days of Cutthroat. He’d obviously updated it since then, but it was still a tiny two bedroom. No garage. No pool or solarium or any other fancy stuff his parents had in their house. He’d told me he lived off his earnings from the non-profit, not his trust fund.
“This is it,” I replied. There was no reason to say more, to tell him it wasn’t shacking up.
He clapped his hands together. “Okay, you’ve gotten some dick, now it’s time to get your head back in the game.”
I froze at his crude words. “Excuse me?”
He laughed and held his hand up. “I understand. Believe me, I do. But you’ve had your fun. The way I see it, you can do Lillehammer as a warmup, then we’ll be ready for Wengen by January.”
God, when he said the word fun, it sounded so tawdry. Was that what Lucas and Cy thought when I’d tossed it at them?
“Mark, look,” I began.
He held up his hand. “Don’t say you’re quitting.”
“I’m quitting.”
There, I’d done it. He could leave now, and I could go to the ranch and get some more of that dick that he says has been distracting me.