Authors: Carlene Love Flores
“Lucky, I just need a few hours to
think.
I’ll be back as soon as I can
clear my head.”
Speaking this curtly was
the only way to keep the distance she needed for now.
“All right, Trista.
Be safe.”
He hung up.
God, how could she be doing this to him?
Jaxon pulled in to the outdoor
amphitheater and drove a ways to a space in the furthest rear parking lot
facing the woods.
Rural grassy hills
surrounded them, slightly hidden under a few patches of an untimely spring
snowfall.
The engine quietly died down.
“Trissy, what’s going on?” Jaxon turned toward
her, frowning.
No doubt he was trying to
figure out what she was projecting onto him.
She sighed and sat back further into the
cushioned leather where nighttime shadows hid her.
Jaxon loosened a wayward piece of windblown
hair from her face and tucked it behind her left ear. The curve of his finger
caught in the tangled end of that strand, causing her to turn directly toward
him, coming out of her evasive sitting position.
In his concerned look, she was reminded
that Jaxon knew her better than anyone, even if he couldn’t get the city they
called home for the night right.
“Nothing’s right.
It’s all wrong.
And I don’t know why or how I’m gonna fix
everything.
And don’t tell me
it’s
okay because it’s not.”
She grimaced and heaved a sigh before fixing her face in a defeated
stare.
“Trista Jeane Hart.” Jaxon rarely called
her by her full name; he had her attention at its use now.
“You should know better than that.
A very wise young lady once told me as long
as we’ve got just one person out there willing to stand by us no matter what,
that things will always be okay.”
He
ignored her huff and enclosed her in a fiercely protective cage of arms which felt
really nice if she was being honest.
“Now, tell me, what in the bloody hell has you looking like this?
And it better not be Lucky.”
His finger moved slowly across her
chin.
He kissed her forehead and sat
back in his seat.
After a long moment of silence, Jaxon
looked to have given up on her response.
He turned the car key to trigger the stereo and digitally flipped
through the collection of discs already loaded in the player.
“Ahh.”
It was an old favorite of his.
“Vanny Morrison, genius.”
He hummed along and clasped his hands together
behind his head, relaxing, when a knuckle tapped on the driver side
window.
He sat up quickly and looked to
his left.
It was hard to see.
Whoever it was held a flashlight straight
into his field of vision.
Jaxon brought
up his left hand to shield his eyes, his right one fisted over the top of his
black zippered pants.
Another couple
taps clunked against the glass so he lowered the window a few inches.
“Excuse me, but the show’s over,
folks.
Ya need to be headin’ out now.”
The guard angled his light away from
Jaxon’s face and scanned it her way.
She
pulled the hem of her black and silver dress down to cover her thighs.
She could imagine what the guard must be
thinking he had stumbled upon.
She gave
a slight smile, although she wasn’t in the mood.
“Oh hey, Jimmy.
Hey, it’s me, Jaxon.”
He angled his head allowing Jimmy to get a
better look.
“Oh, Mr. James.
I’m sorry; I didn’t realize it was you in
there.
Is everythin’ okay?
It’s late and I’m lockin’ up the lot for the
night,” the venue’s security manager said in his southern accent, loosening up
his stance and leaning against the doorframe as he spoke with Jaxon.
She remembered saying hi to him earlier that
night during the band’s credentials check.
“Yeah, Jimmy.
Everything’s fine.
Look, you wouldn’t mind if we hang around a
bit more, would ya, mate?
It’s been a
long night; this place is nice and quiet, you know?
Peaceful.”
“Listen,
it’s
fine with me if y’all stay here all night but I got to lock up the yard.
Won’t be back ‘til ‘bout
noon t’ morrow.
You figurin’
on stayin’ here that long?” Jimmy asked.
She caught Jaxon’s glance in her
direction and his quick size up.
It must
be obvious she wasn’t herself.
She
wasn’t about to start brimming up with tears but her inner turmoil—the way she
sat, knees rigidly pressed together and hands tucked under her thighs,
shoulders high and bent inward—must have been plain as the stripes on her
dress.
It might do her good to sleep it
off out here.
Jaxon flashed his all-knowing eyes back
to Jimmy.
“Yeah, no, mate.
I think we’re good here for the night.
I really appreciate it, bud.”
“All right, be careful now.
Ya stay in the vee-hicle and shouldn’t be
no
problems.
The
fence is tight ‘cept for right over there.”
Jimmy pointed his flashlight toward a section of fencing that lay pinned
to the ground.
“We had some real twisted
punks get caught a couple weeks ago killin’ stray cats back here.
B’fore my guys could get to ‘em, they piled
into their Bronco and drove right over the damned chain link and into the
woods.
Punk kids…”
He muttered a bit more under his breath, “How
many days ‘til I retire?
Little bums…”
He tipped his navy blue hat to Jaxon in
respectful regard and waved as he crossed all the way out of their field of
vision.
“Well, you heard Jimmy; we’re in for the
night.
So, whatever it is that has us
here, whatever it is you’re holding inside, when you’re ready, I’m here.
Not going anywhere, darlin’.”
She dipped her head and furrowed a deep
crease into her brow.
She didn’t know
what she was ready for.
But hearing the
pet name Lucky had taken to calling her made her choke on guilty tears.
She’d never been so afraid to be with anyone
like she was with Lucky.
Maybe it was
because she knew loving him meant being good.
Whereas with Jaxon, it really didn’t matter who she
was.
“Jaxon, do you think I’m a good person?”
“The best, baby girl.”
The best.
God, if you’re really up there listening,
please let Jaxon be right.
And please
don’t let Lucky hate me for this.
Let
him know I’m okay.
And I think I’m ready
to talk about going home.
Thanks.
Um, amen.
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
“What time is it?”
She stretched her aching arms and legs and
dug around her pocket for her phone.
She
focused on the display, squinting until her sleepy vision cleared.
It was nearly three o’clock in the
morning!
She should have called Lucky by now.
What was seriously wrong with her?
How much time did one person need to say yes
to the American dream?
What more proof
did she need that she was over this tiresome life on the road and ready for a
good life, a home?
With handsome
blue-eyed blond-haired Lucky and all that gorgeous attention he paid her?
A couple hours ago, the thought had finally
stopped scaring her to death.
But then
she’d dozed off.
She shook her head and
blew out a gust of breath.
If only she
could just as easily blow away all the things holding her back from that life
Lucky had offered.
Leaving Las Vegas, try
Leaving Jaxon James.
How in the hell did
she do that?
She scrolled to Lucky’s
name in her contact list, hit the green dial button, but then just as quickly
ended the call.
Her speech needed a
little more time before it was ready to be tossed in Jaxon’s lap.
Jaxon sat awake, quietly ignoring her as
she’d asked him to.
Nick Cave and Sam
Cooke took turns on the stereo as she sighed, again.
Jaxon rolled his head to the side to face her
but he was clearly not amused.
Finally, he spoke up.
“Trissy, maybe I’m the one to blame
here.
Maybe if it weren’t for the fucked
up way I’ve treated you this past year, you’d be in a better place, ready to do
whatever it is you’re trying to do with Lucky.
I’m so incredibly sorry for not being there for you like I should have
lately.”
She breathed in deeply and let it
out.
Maybe Jaxon would never stop
apologizing to her for that and she should just accept it.
“Jaxon, thanks for the apology.
But this isn’t really your fault.
I mean, yeah, I’ve been pissed at you more
times than I care to think about lately but you have a life outside of me.
I get it.
Why do you think Vangie could never see there’s nothing remotely sexual
between us?
She’s the mother of your
child but it’s like she doesn’t know you at all.”
Could that happen with her and Lucky?
She cringed while Jaxon chewed the inside of
his lip and she knew he’d rather bite all the way through it than talk about
Vangie’s incessant jealousy of their friendship.
“I know I’ve made some poor decisions
that haven’t been fair to you.
I’m
trying the best I can…”
He trailed off,
his Aussie accent becoming distant.
If her life was a mess, Jaxon’s was a
complete debauchery.
She didn’t know how
he did it, each night on the stage in front of thousands.
How could she make it worse for him now?
She had to leave but how could she?
Was he really gonna be okay like he’d
promised?
“Jaxon, do you love Vangie?
Even with everything she’s done to you?”
If he could do it for Vangie, then maybe
she’d believe Lucky could do it for her.
He looked at his lap.
“Trissy, like I said, I’m sorry I let you down.
I should have found a way to go to your
Gramma’s with you.”
Great.
He wouldn’t even answer her.
That didn’t say a whole lot for the concept
of loving someone through the good and the bad.
She knew he was split between the father he wanted to be, the friend he
had failed at being, and the man he could never be for Vangie.
She had to let him off the hook once and for
all.
“Hey, it’s okay that you didn’t make that
trip with me.
I know you would have if
there had been any way possible.”
She remembered how it’d felt to hang up
on him as he’d apologized mid-sentence.
And how it felt to ignore his calls for the next few days.
But he was here with her now, and for some
reason, that was enough.
She reclined in an effort to get more
comfortable.
The thought of Stefan
frolicking around in the backseat gave her a much needed mental laugh.
She’d be saying goodbye to him too.
And Will and Marion.
And Ben.
She rolled onto her left side, facing Jaxon
who still sat upright, but turned in so he faced her.
She reached out for his hand and smiled at
the thought that it felt nice not to have to avoid him.
If these were their last moments together, if
she was really going to say goodbye, she needed these few peaceful hours to be
perfect and simple.