The Wild Ones (The Wild Ones #1)(53)
Author: M. Leighton

“One beer and then we’re going back out there.”

“What is this? Death by dancing?”

“Nope. It’s called therapy. Jenna style.”

She picks up my beer just as the bartender sets it down and takes a huge gulp.

She looks over my shoulder and her eyes widen a tad. Smiling innocently at me, she blurts, “I gotta pee. Be right back,” and then she slides off her stool and takes off.

My heart starts pounding when I wonder who she saw behind me that made her react in such a way. Almost every part of my heart and soul, along with several body parts as well, are hoping and praying that it’s Trick she spotted. Even though it will be so hard to see him, especially if he’s with someone else, at this point, I just want to see him. Watch him walk, see him smile. Watch him drag his fingers through his hair in that way that he does.

Before I turn around, I close my eyes. I’m preparing myself, trying to stop the butterflies of nervous excitement from making me puke all over the bar. I’m convinced I’ll see Trick.

But I don’t.

The earth-shattering let down, the crushing of that tiny seed of hope is almost more than I can take. My throat closes up around an invisible fist of disappointment. I try to swallow past it, but can’t.

Brent is standing a few feet from my barstool, staring at me. I try to offer up even a polite smile, but my lips tremble around it and I know it looks as pathetic as I feel.

“Excuse me,” I mutter as I scoot off my stool. I head for the bathroom, but when I get there, I keep right on going. Right out to the parking lot, to Jenna’s car. There’s no hope of salvaging the night now.

I’d rather just die instead. Get it over with.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO – Trick

It’s coming up on three months. I think I’ve gotten up every day since I left Cami’s house and thought to myself, “This is the day. This is the day she’ll change her mind and give us another chance.”

Today, I wonder if she ever will. I wonder if I’ll ever get the future that I’d begun seeing as reality more than fantasy.

Today, it feels less likely than ever before.

And I hate that feeling.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE – Cami

Daddy’s droning on and on about the purse for one of the larger state races coming up and what he plans to do with the money.

I know I should be paying closer attention, and I genuinely try to focus on him when he’s talking. The problem is, I seem to have lost all interest in pretty much anything lately. I feel like I’m being sucked into a downward spiral that has no end in sight. Daylight and hope and happiness get farther and farther away with every sun that sets.

I think in some small way, I expected Trick to come back. I expected him to change his mind, to hear from his mom that I was there and suddenly decide he can’t live without me.

But it seems like that is never going to happen. And I’m left trying to make some kind of life for myself without him.

The thing is, I don’t think I’m interested in a life without him. Sometime when I wasn’t looking, Trick became everything I want out of my entire existence. Without him, I just don’t know what’s left.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR – Trick

When did nights get so long? Probably when I started waking up thinking about Cami. Every time it happens, which is more and more often lately, I can’t go back to sleep because of this miserable ache that won’t leave me alone. So I lie in bed and remember and wish and curse and get angry. Then I think about all the things I wish I’d said, all the things that might’ve made a difference. But even still, I can’t go back to sleep. And then the cycle repeats itself.

I’ve thought several times about downing a fifth of something before bed, enough to drown out all thought, especially those of Cami. But for some reason I can’t bring myself to do it. I think the problem is that I don’t really want to drown her out. Memories and wishes are all I have left.

And I’m not ready to let them go yet. If I ever will be.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE – Cami

I wonder if I look as determined as I feel. I decide from the look on Sooty’s face that I probably do. I march right past him, down the main corridor of the stable and stop in front of Lucky’s stall. I yank open the door and start to walk in. But then I stop.

Tears fill my eyes like they have every other time I’ve tried to go see him. Leaning up against the wall, I give in to the urge to cry, just like I have every other time I’ve visited the stall. I can’t seem to help it. And I’ve tried. Dozens of times. But all I can see, all I can think of and hear and feel and smell is Trick and the night we spent together when Lucky was born.

How can the best day of your life also be the worst? I’m tortured by the memory of Trick giving in to me, to what we shared, and yet I can’t stop thinking about it. Not even long enough to visit Lucky without having a hysterical tear-fest.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX – Trick

The weather is noticeably cooler as I put Rags through his paces. He’s made even better progress than what I’d anticipated. And I’m pleased. Really pleased. But it seems a more hollow victory than I’d imagined it would be. I’ve been dreaming of this day for a long time—the day I’d be breaking and training my own horse, laying the groundwork for my own future, finally getting back some control of my own life. Why isn’t it everything I’d dreamed it would be?

I didn’t realize until I lost her how much I’d included Cami in my thoughts, my hopes, my plans. My happiest daydreams.

Although it didn’t start out that way, it hadn’t taken me long to think of her as being a part of this whole taming-a-wild-horse process, of her cheering me on and being continually amazed by my horse-whispering prowess. I smile as I think of her laughing and rolling her eyes over my humongous ego when it comes to my confidence in Rags.

That smile dies when the image of her fades away.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN – Cami

I usually love it when summer starts melting into fall. I love the colors and the cooler air, the excitement of football season, which my father has always loved, too. There’s always a break in the racing season if the ranch is racing a horse for the year and, if not, it’s turning into buying season for people who want to make the following year’s races.

Then come the holidays. Thanksgiving and Christmas, followed by the New Year. New plans, new horses. More training, more breeding. It’s a cycle I’ve been through half my life.

And I’ve always looked forward to it.