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“I’m taking her,” Ty announces, overriding Liam and maneuvering to grab my bags and clutch my elbow. “C’mon, Celeste.”
I follow Ty without looking back and stupid tears pool in my eyes. He informs my security guards he’s transporting me in his armored Mercedes-Benz S-Class. Rex flings objections at him until finally relenting, so I saunter behind Ty to the twenty-car garage and climb in. After giving him the address, I drop my elbow against the windowsill to rest my head while my team follows behind.
“Rough morning,” Ty says, so I glance up. His face exudes kindness. Honest brown eyes; neat, barely-there scruff; and short curls—all somehow expressing a virtuous spirit that has no place in the life he’s chosen. I don’t get it.
“It wasn’t until it was,” I allow, recalling the fleeting morsel when it felt right. “My life isn’t as meaningless as he makes it.”
I’m not sure why I add that, but something about Ty has me eager to spill. And I hate the way Liam makes me feel worthless. As if living a life without criminal exploits is frivolous. What positive change is he evoking in this screwed-up society?
“Your life is as meaningful as you believe it to be, Celeste.” He clicks his turn signal on and checks the rearview mirror before turning right onto another country road. “Don’t let anyone make you question yourself. Certainly not Liam.”
“He’s kind of an ass,” I say.
He regards me with a sidelong glance and raised brows. “There’s no kind of about it.” We both laugh before he adds, “But it’s only to cover an emotion he doesn’t want anyone to see.”
That’s true for everyone to some degree, I suppose. “Must’ve been something big that he was covering today then. He’s never been such a blatant, savage dick.”
Ty chuckles but steers the conversation in a different direction as we hurtle toward the stables. “Taking riding lessons?”
“No,” I reply, not sure I want to fill in the pieces. I’m still salty that Liam acted like I was on my way to shop with Daddy’s credit card while he digs trenches. Asshole. He certainly makes Scott Filmore more attractive.
“So, we’re headed to a horse farm for what reason then?” Ty asks.
My attention snags on the fields, bald cypress trees, and homes blurring into a sea of greens as we hasten down the road. Life unfolds so differently when you’re moving through it than it does when you still a snippet. I thought this month would be like the thousands of snapshots I hold in my heart of Ivy and me. Instead, it’s a mess of past and present. Future and pain. Changing souls and fracturing friendships. Images, fuzzy and dull, lost to the wrong shutter speed.
“If you really want to know, you can come in with me,” I offer.
“I’d love to,” he says, and I believe him.
A few minutes later, we pull into Whispering Pines Stables—a family-run horse farm providing lessons and boarding. The facilities are beautiful—an indoor and outdoor riding arena and top-notch stables—but that’s not why I chose them. Thankfully, they were warned in advance that I’d have an entourage, so they pay no mind to the men in suits escorting me to the indoor arena.
A middle-aged man waves me over as we enter. There’s a slew of kids crowded around three horses behind him as he sticks out his palm. “Celeste?”
“Yes,” I confirm, shaking his hand. “Jeremy, it’s so nice to finally be face-to-face. Thank you for letting me join your team while I’m in town. It seems we’ve got some excited kiddos already.”
“So excited.” He smiles, his gray eyes creasing. “I can’t thank you enough for contacting us with such a phenomenal idea and your willingness to document the magic for them. We’ve hired a specialist in equine-assisted therapy. Our team has been hard at work and counting down the days for the past six weeks.”
“Me too.” I sneak a peek behind him. “Remind me which group we have today.”
“The Autism Academy. Thursday, we’ll have Better Days, a cerebral palsy support group. And next week is Thriving Kids, the foster care program, and New Hope, women-and-children abuse recovery. I’ll email the schedule.”
“Perfect,” I say as Ty clears his throat behind me, and I realize how rude I’ve been. “I’m so sorry, Jeremy. This is my friend Ty.”
Ty steps forward, and I catch the sheen glistening on his brown eyes. He’s swallowing the same soupy emotion I am, which is a connection I needed far more than I realized.
The next four hours are spent snapping pictures of the kids in alternating groups with the horses—painting, riding, grooming. After capturing a plethora of fantastic shots, I take time to ride with the kids. Jeremy assigns me a horse named Winnie. She’s a regal chestnut with a hint of sass that I appreciate.
Ty and I head out to lunch afterward in much better spirits.
“Fuck, Celeste, that was incredible.” His features twist in astonishment as he grips the steering wheel. He’s clearly moved.
“I got inspired during my photography internship in Europe, and now, I’m hooked. You’re welcome to come with me anytime.” I grin. “And next time, you don’t have to hang back. My security can handle it. You might enjoy painting a horse if you’re not into riding.”
“Thanks. I’ll definitely come again.” He swallows, and I see the heaviness in him that Ivy’s mentioned before. He masks it so well most of the time. “Actually, I’d love to do something like that for the abuse victims we house.”
Ty handles the pro bono work in their erasing business, which is separate from KORT. While they earn millions erasing identities for nefarious persons on the run, they also hide abuse victims for free. It’s another reason why Ty stands out in the life he leads. Much like my best friend.
“Ivy told me about the new housing.” I keep my tone upbeat, hoping to feed his excitement for his project. On the far end of their acreage, they built a home to house up to twelve women comfortably. I haven’t seen it, but Ivy said it’s beautiful. “How’s that going?”
