I hear a woman yelling as I move toward the flap covering the tent opening.
“I don’t think anything. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”Caroline?That’s definitely Caroline.
“Whatever, fat slut. Why does he call youHurricane, anyway? Because you swallow everything down including the dinner table?”
I can see Caroline from behind, her head hanging down. She’s got on tight jeans and her brown boots. Double braids trail down her back, and there’s a cute white hat on her head. She’s wearing a t-shirt, but I can’t see if it says anything from this angle. She looks more beautiful, and appropriate, than the woman yelling at her who wears white short shorts, white boots, and a white hat covered in jewels, a pink shirt tied up at her waist. She has an equally sour-faced comrade beside her, sneering at Caroline.
Coming up and standing just behind her shoulder, I give both women a dirty look. “What’s going on, ladies? Isn’t this the riders’ tent? Where are your lanyards?” I hold mine up for them to see. Caroline spins around, her jaw dropped.
“Who the hell are you? You’re not security,” the one in white snaps at me. They both look at me, stubbornly but also unsure.
“I’m here to make sure you’re not harassing people who are supposed to be here. Security!” I call out, and they rush over. “Please escort these—what did they call you, sweetheart?”
She mumbles, “Buckle bunny.”
“Yeah, thesebuckle bunniesout of here.” Once they’ve been removed, I stare at Caroline. The realization of what just happened, and whatishappening, hits me like a lead ball through the gut.
“Hurricane?” I ask her and she nods her head, slowly. A little frightened but I don’t think of me. More, of the situation she has found herself in. “Are you Callie?” Again, she nods.
“Caroline, you’ve got, maybe, thirty seconds before Cash comes through that door. Start talking, please.”
“Callie is my nickname. I’m sorry, Duke. I didn’t?—”
“Hurricane!” I hear Cash’s exclamation as he burststhrough the door. Rushing to her, he sweeps her up in his arms and pulls her in for a kiss. A comfortable, sweet, I-could-do-this-for-the-rest-of-my-life type of kiss. A familiar kiss. “Oh, Duke, what’s up man?” He holds out his hand which I accept, never taking my eyes off Caroline, or Callie. Or whoever-the-fuck she is. “You met Callie?”
“Yep. Sure did,” I say, my eyes locked with hers. The fear is there again.
“Cool. Come on, darlin’, I gotta accept my buckle and I wanted you to stand with me. I’ll be back, Duke,” he tells me, beginning to pull her to the tent opening.
“See ya, Caroline.” I wave, a little half-heartedly.
Cash stops in his tracks and turns his head, looking at me curiously, before looking at Caroline. He volleys back and forth a few times before he continues to pull her out, a little less enthusiastically.
I turn on a heel and march out of the tent, directly out of the gates, and to my truck. Getting in, I slam the door behind me and slam my hand, hard, down onto the console, creating a large crack.
“Fuck!” I scream before ripping out of my parking space and heading back toward town. Tears stain my cheeks as I drive, fury filling my chest. I can’t tell where the destruction to my heart ends and the anger begins. I have never been so thoroughly consumed before. I told Sadie to expect me after the show, but I can’t tonight, I just can’t. Slamming my truck into park in front of the house, I storm through the door and out into the gym I built in a shed. I strip off my hat and shirt as I walk.
Roaring through the door, I slam my fists into the heavy bag hanging in the corner. And I slam and slam and slam until I feel blood dripping onto the floor. Bending over, I put my bleeding hands on my knees, sucking in labored breaths. Ithought I knew what a broken heart felt like, but I was wrong.So fucking wrong.
I head back in the house, towels wrapped around both hands and stick them in the sink, turning on the water. I hiss at the pain and it’s still nothing compared to the giant hole that has appeared in my chest. I grab a bottle of whiskey from my liquor cabinet, throwing the unopened bottle of Walton’s I bought for her into the fireplace—it explodes in a shower of glass and alcohol. The dogs both yelp and retreat to another part of the house to hide from my rage.
I feel bad, but not enough to calm down.
Opening the Jack, I pour it directly into my mouth, and swallow huge gulps. Shaking, I set the bottle down. I stare at it, breathing heavily, trying to wrap my head around the last hour and what has gone so horribly wrong.
Did he know? Cash wouldn’t do this to me. He knew how much I was starting to care about Caroline; he wouldn’t have done this on purpose.
She knew though. She knew Cash was my best friend, my oldest friend. She knew because I told her myself. She played me, she played both of us for lovesick fools.
I was falling in love with her and the person I was falling for, I’m not even sure she exists. I can’t even lie to myself. I wasn’tfallingin love with my best friend’s girl. I am wholly and completely so in love with her to the point that right now, I can’t breathe around the pain.
Feeling the whiskey starting to warm my veins and blur my thoughts, I lay down on the couch and let the storm take me away.
Hurricane, indeed.
Chapter 27
The Less I Know, the Better
