Kristen Ashley - For You

Knowing it wasn’t who I thought it was because he wouldn’t give it to me if it was; I took it, looked at the display and saw who was on it. My breath went out of me again as I looked at the clock on Colt’s nightstand. It was two in the morning, not unusual for the caller, but not acceptable anymore, though he didn’t know it.

I saw Colt’s shadow move, arm extended toward the light. Then I rolled up and over to sit on my ass, arm holding the covers to my chest as I lifted my knees and pressed my torso to my thighs.

Then I put my phone to my ear, the light went on and I blinked against the brightness as I said, “Hey, Reece.”

There was nothing but silence for awhile and I waited.

Then Reece said, “Expected it to happen eventually, darlin’, but didn’t expect it to hit me that hard the first time I heard a man answer your phone.”

I closed my eyes tight and whispered, “Reece.”

“No promises, beautiful, no expectations, that was the deal. You gave it to me.”

“I know.”

“Now I gotta find a way to give it to you.”

“Reece –”

“Best way to find it right now is knowin’ some jackass is out there carvin’ up folks in your name and it’s good for me to understand you got a man at your side.”

“He’s not carving them up, he’s hacking them with a hatchet.”

There was a smile in Reece’s voice when he replied, “Whatever.”

I felt Colt’s hand hit the small of my back and then I felt his fingers run up the indentation of my spine then back down, the path short, the touch light but it was also steady. I knew it was weird in this situation but it made me feel better.

It helped that Wilson wandered up the bed and curled into a ball at my hip.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Headin’ out tomorrow, goin’ to ground until this guy is found.”

“I’m sorry, Reece.”

“Not your fault, darlin’.”

“Still.”

“Still nothin’. Could use a vacation anyway, haven’t had a real one since we went to Tahoe.”

Tahoe had been great, we went right before I came home and stayed a week. We rode there on the back of his bike and we splurged on a luxury rental. Gambled and rode during the day. Ate until we were stuffed. Fell in bed massively tipsy every night. It was a blast.

I’d seen him since as he used to be mine for those times I needed him. I took a two week vacation the first year I was home, got in my car, told no one where I was going or who I was seeing. I hit a few places where I had friends, including spending two days with Reece in Sedona. Did the same the second year, catching him up in Taos, but that time I stayed four days.

Reece had come to visit me also, spending his time while I was at the bar catching up with friends he had close or visiting the Speedway and doing other tourist crap. He was careful not to infiltrate my life, like showing up at the bar, knowing, without me telling him, that wasn’t his place to be. When he was around I took some time off, not explaining why, and sometimes would go with him and show him around. Nights, if we spent the day apart, he was always there for me. I’d come home and he’d be in my bed. I’d wake him when I hit the bed, or, if he was out, I’d wake him with my hands or my mouth, something he didn’t mind and I suspected he pretended to sleep just to get it.

Those days were over.

“You’ll check in?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“Frequently?”

“Yeah, darlin’ but don’t worry about me. It’ll be okay. I can take care of myself and the Feds I talked to seem pretty fuckin’ determined to find this guy.”

“Yeah.”

There was a hesitation before he said in a way I knew he was searching, “I’m guessin’ I shouldn’t call so late next time.”

“Probably not.”

Another moment of silence before he stopped fucking around and asked what he wanted to know but he spoke in a voice that said he wished he didn’t have to say his next words. “Hate to ask, beautiful, but gotta know. Your boy who answered the phone, this mean you’ll not be callin’ in awhile?”

“Reece –” I started then couldn’t say it.

When I stopped talking and said no more, Reece read me. We’d been in and out of each other’s lives for a long time but we talked on the phone relatively frequently. He didn’t know me through and through but he knew me well enough.

“Fuck,” he bit out, “means you’ll not be callin’ at all.”

“Reece.”

“That hit me harder than I expected too.”

“Reece –”

He cut me off. “Fucked up.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Fucked up, I knew I had a good thing, threw it away. Fuck!”

“You didn’t throw it away.”

“How many times I watch you walk away from me, Feb? How many times you watch me?”

“Reece, don’t.”

“Too fuckin’ many. Means I fucked up.”

I pressed my torso deeper into my knees and whispered, “It wasn’t meant to be, honey.”

“I put an ounce of effort in it I coulda made it meant to be.”

I wasn’t certain this was true, not now. Maybe years ago when I met him. He was a good guy and he never fucked me over. He was handsome, he was charming, he was smart. Always honest with me. When I had him, I had all of him. He made me laugh, not like I used to but he did it. He knew I loved the bike and he loved it too and taking me out on it. We fit together, were comfortable, would fall in with each other within seconds of being back. The sex wasn’t great, like with Colt, but it was really good.

Now. No.

But I didn’t tell him that and I didn’t know if that was the right thing to do or the wrong thing.

“Sorry, Feb. You don’t need this shit now, do you, beautiful? What is it, one o’clock?”

“Two.”

“Fuck, sorry darlin’.”

“Don’t be.”

“I’ll call in.”

“Thanks, Reece.”

“Sleep tight, beautiful.”

“Reece?” I called before he disconnected.

“Yeah, Feb?”

“You find another, don’t watch her walk away,” I said.

He laughed and it wasn’t like he usually laughed. It was like Colt’s bitter laughter earlier that night and it also pressed to my flesh like a blade but it broke through and my blood beaded the edge.

Then he said, “Ain’t another like you.”

Then he disconnected. It took me awhile to flip the phone closed and when I did my hand dropped to the mattress and I pressed my cheek to my knee.

I felt the phone slide out of my hand and the bed moving with Colt. I heard my phone hit the nightstand then the light went out. Then his hands were on me, pulling me back, down, tucking me against his side, wrapping his arm around me, holding me close. I draped my arm around his stomach and I held him tight. Wilson settled into the small of my back, knowing with cat knowledge I needed his presence there, his warmth, closer, all for me, not at our feet.

We were silent. There were no words for times like these.

At least I thought there weren’t.

I thought that before Colt said, “What’d I say, baby? I’m the fuckin’ lucky one in this bed, seein’ as he watched you walk away which meant you were free to make your way back to me.”

That’s when I started crying and Colt’s other hand came to my hair, sifting through it, pulling it away from my face then again and again before he curled his fingers around my neck and kept them there. I didn’t know or care if it was cool to cry about another man while in my man’s arms.

Lucky for me, Colt didn’t seem to mind.

Colt’s phone rang, I knew it from the tone and it jarred me awake.

Keeping me at his side, he reached for it and I snuggled closer as he started talking.

“Colton.” Pause. “Yeah, right.” Pause. “Where?” Pause. “Got it. Gotta get someone in for Feb then I’ll be there. Yeah. Later.”

I lifted up to an elbow, pulled my hair out of my face and watched as he used his thumb on his phone, the light of the display illuminating his face.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Robbery,” he answered, hit a button and put the phone to his ear.

I settled back into him, resting my head on his shoulder and draping my arm around his stomach, mumbling, “Bummer.”

I was half asleep when he flipped his phone closed, moved and then I heard buttons being pressed.

I slid my cheek along his skin to look up at him as he put the phone to his ear.

“What?” I asked.

“Your Dad’s not pickin’ up, phone’s probably not close or he’s out,” Colt replied then he said, “Darryl?”

I got back up on my elbow and stared at him.

“Yeah, listen, I gotta go out on a call and Jack’s not answering. Morrie closed and I know you’re just in too but they need a break from this business and someone’s gotta look after Feb. You think Phy would be cool with you comin’ over and crashin’ on my couch for a few hours?” Colt paused and I not only wondered what the answer would be but also when Darryl had been added onto Colt’s Person Who I Trust to Protect Feb List.

Phylenda, Darryl’s wife, was a good woman, a strong one and chock full of attitude. She had to be, she knew anytime her man could fall off the wagon, do something stupid and, with a strike three, be gone for a good long time so she’d be responsible for taking care of two kids who lived with the knowledge that their Dad was in prison again. She knew this because she’d done it before.

She didn’t come into the bar much because their kids were seven and nine and couldn’t come with her. Not to mention she had a full-time job too and, with Darryl’s hours, did most of the child rearing. And lastly, she didn’t have people close to help out and she tended to keep herself to herself. Though I saw her, just not often. We closed the bar annually for a staff Christmas party where family was invited and we gave out bonuses to Darryl, Ruthie and Fritzi. At the Christmas party, as a grand finale, Morrie disappeared (Dad used to do this) and came out as Santa Claus and gave all their kids gifts, or, in Fritzi’s case, her grandkids. We’d also close when we had our summer barbeque for close friends and the staff was always there. Dad did it for years and Morrie carried on the tradition. Not to mention, I was one of the few people Phy would let watch her kids. Not that I did it often, sometimes when Darryl got his shit together and took her out and other times when she’d had enough and needed to go by herself to a movie.