Authors: Mercy Celeste
Creed couldn’t stop the pounding in his chest. The fear and anger and hopeless blackness that he kept at bay with a fucking Band-Aid most days. “How did you know about Charlie?”
“I figured it out. He did it, didn’t he? After he found you with the clowns. He was the one, wasn’t he? He was the one who sent you out to hustle.”
Creed didn’t deny it. He didn’t say anything. What the hell could he say? He pretended that it was different. That Charlie’s vacant brown eyes weren’t part of his nightmares. “As monsters go, I try not to think of that one. The nights he’d come back high and climb in bed with me. At first he just slept. I guess I thought losing Mom had finally hit him. I thought he finally knew I was around. And that things would get better. Then I found out… He stripped me, rolled me on my belly, and held his hand over my mouth while he raped me. My own father. The first time I hustled he left me at the truck stop and told me not to come back until I had at least fifty dollars. I was sixteen before I figured out how to hide money from him. But he took it out in trade. By then it didn’t matter as long as I had money to buy food. Just another fuck. I figured out that if I didn’t fight him, he’d lose interest and leave me alone. Most nights. And then Owen came. I had enough money to keep my father off me. I traded one monster for another one. A worse one. I can’t give you what you want, Eli. But I never lied to you. I lie to everyone, even myself, but I have never lied to you. I was twenty-four the last time my dad—and you were the first one since. I love you. I do. But I can’t be what you want me to be. I can’t be your lover. I can’t work for you. I can’t be with you.”
“Why not? Just give me one good reason,” Eli whispered. Creed could hear tears in his voice but he didn’t turn to face him. He couldn’t.
“Because I’m nothing but a whore. I’m always going to be a whore. You won’t know if I’m staying because I love you or if I’m after your money. You don’t trust me now. In a year or two that will turn to resentment. Then hate. You’ll wonder what I’m doing every time I go to town or who I’m doing. Owen was jealous. He stalked me, dragging me out of trucks by my hair. I told him my dad would kill me if I didn’t bring home enough money. He made me stop and paid me enough that I could stop. And then he tried to kill me every time he caught up with me. I can’t be that for someone again. I can’t be your obsession. I’d rather have that week be a memory than a regret. It’s probably the only good memory I have. The only time I can remember being truly happy.”
“And you decided that all on your own? That I can’t look beyond your past? That I’m such a shallow, horrible person that I can’t be trusted enough to even try? That love and obsession are all part of the same package? Well, guess what. It’s not. And I’m not Owen. But you don’t care enough to look past my uncle to see that, do you? I love you, Creed. I don’t want to. But I do. I love you enough to walk the hell away. To give you what you want. I wish you well. I just… Keep your head up higher so the bull doesn’t rear back and head butt you. And jump farther away. That’s it. Don’t get killed.” Eli walked past him to the door. He paused as if waiting for Creed to stop him. Creed couldn’t even look at him. Stopping him would be next to impossible. And then he was gone. His boots echoed in the hallway.
“Where are you going, son?” Creed heard Sly call after Eli, his voice sounding old, and Creed could hear the sorrow in his words.
“Home, to get drunk, and then laid, and not necessarily in that order.”
Silence swallowed Creed whole. He leaned against the wall, eyes closed. There was a hole in his chest where his heart used to be. Time passed but he didn’t know how much. He thought he was alone. As the pain throbbing through his head began to subside, he could make out the sounds from the arena. Cheers and boos. Buzzers and announcers. He’d missed his second ride. Disqualified.
“I’m an idiot.”
“Now that I agree with.” Sly leaned against the door, his arms crossed over his chest, sorrow in his eyes.
Creed finally pushed himself off the wall and staggered into the room where he collapsed onto a hard chair. Sprawling, he glared at his father’s friend. For years he’d wondered about Sly. What his story was. Why he hooked up with his father. “Why do I have your eyes?” And that in particular. “Why do you stay with me? When everyone else used me and abused me or died on me, you stay. And you never ask for anything. Never. And I have your eyes. Charlie had brown eyes. Mom had brown eyes. But Sly has green eyes. Just like me.”
“Because you are my son. Sofia couldn’t divorce Charlie. She loved me, Creed, but Charlie was it for her. He was also my brother. Everything was such a mess. I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t want you hating me. I didn’t want you hating her. When I found you after she died, well, it was too late to protect you.” Sly didn’t look away. He held his head up as if he expected Creed to go off like a Roman candle. There was regret and loss in the old eyes. But also love and disappointment.
“He’s right about that much at least. Everything about me is a lie. What’s one more? Guess being Charlie’s nephew makes what he did to me easier to stomach.”
“Nothing makes that better, Creed. You were twelve. What kind of monster rapes a twelve-year-old boy? What kind of monster pimps his kid out for drug money?”
“You heard all that?”
Sly shook his head sadly. “Charlie confessed everything that day in Tulsa. The day I pulled him off you. He waited until you left, and maybe it was the drugs in his system but he confessed everything. I think he overdosed on purpose. I think—well, it doesn’t matter now. That nightmare is nearly four years old now. Time to let it go.”
“I’ll take that nightmare to the grave.” Creed leaned forward, elbows on his knees so that the floor was all he saw. “I’ll take everything to the grave. There is no letting it go for me. Just living with it.”
“While denying yourself any chance at happiness? Why does that make sense to you? He loves you, Creed. And from what I’ve seen and heard, you love him. Why can’t you let him into that hard heart of yours?”
“Because he will leave me. Because I don’t know how to trust. Everyone I’ve ever loved or trusted has either left me or betrayed me. I can’t be his toy. I can’t be there when he wakes up one morning and remembers that I sold myself for money. That I’m the reason his uncle is dead.”
“And you’re the reason his uncle didn’t kill him. You’re the reason Owen didn’t do to him what Charlie did to you. He’s been there, son. He wears his scars on his skin. If anyone can see past all of that, it’s Eli. And you just threw him away. You did that. Because you can’t wait for him to maybe one day do that to you, you did it to him. Used his past against him and told him he wasn’t worth your love or your trust. You did that, Creed. Not Eli.”
Creed saw the wet splotch in the dust but didn’t know what it was. A second followed. “I’m such an idiot.” He swiped at his eyes as a slim black phone slid into his hand. The number already active. But the electronic voice that answered said Eli was out of service range. “How long have you had his phone?”
“Since you put it on the table that day after Owen died. I knew you’d run. I wanted a way for him to find you, or me. He never turned it off. He left messages that first month. About Owen’s autopsy results. He called one night begging you to come back.”
“And you never told me.”
“I didn’t find you until three weeks ago. What was I supposed to say to him?”
Creed hit Redial and again the electronic voice told him Eli wasn’t going to answer. He handed the phone back to Sly and stood up.
“Where are you going? You’ve missed your ride and forfeited this one.”
“To find him if I can. If I can’t then I’m going back to Florida.”
“Need a lift?”
“That depends, old man,” Creed said then, struggling to keep his voice neutral but it broke anyway. “On if you’re ready to get the hell out of the rodeo business once and for all.”
“I hate rodeo, always have. I’m ready to give this shit up like a bad habit. And Florida is kind of nice.”
“Florida is hot and humid, and there are bugs the size of field mice.” Creed shivered thinking about the tree frogs and cicadas that made the nights creepy as hell. Then he remembered how good it felt to wake up from a nightmare in Eli’s arms. To have Eli kiss him until he either fell back to sleep or was so damned turned on he couldn’t remember what the dream had been about. And Eli had never said a word; he just accepted. “Think we can get out of here without attracting any attention?”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Sly left him and headed off down the hallway.
Creed didn’t wait for him to come back. He left his vest and entry number in the room and slipped out into the parking lot. Sly would be pissed but Creed needed to do this on his own. He needed time to figure out what he was going to say. And he didn’t need Sly seeing him on his knees begging Eli to take him back. He needed time to think about the turn of events in his relationship with the man too. After he caught up with Eli. Eli came first. He stopped in the parking lot as a chill ran through him. Eli had always come first with him. He’d just been too stupid to see it. He really was an idiot.
He raced across the parking lot to Sly’s dually. He retrieved his stash of cash and his coat and then he bummed a ride from one of the crew. He knew what he had to do. He didn’t have time to waste if he was going to be in time. He had to be in time. He just had to.
* * * *
The horses seemed restless. Maybe it was him projecting his feelings on the animals. Eli leaned over the rail near the stable and watched the foals kick up their hooves in the warm sun. Mid-seventies in the middle of February wasn’t natural. Green grass and spring flowers weren’t either, and he had both. The house looked good. The pink had aged nicely over the last three—no, four—days. It was Thursday. He’d rolled in late last night and slept like the dead. The sun hung low in the sky as afternoon moved over to evening. He was hungry. Food was too much trouble right now. Maybe he’d drive into town or over to Sawyer’s or Randy’s or even the judge’s. They’d all left open invitations for dinner. Anytime, Eli.
Randy called earlier to let him know he’d hired a paint crew to start on Monday. Eli needed to decide on the colors. The plumber had finished up the new master bathroom while he was away. Eli could move in as soon as the paint dried. He didn’t want to leave the small guest room now that the house was coming together. Now that he’d buried the ghosts. He didn’t want to bury Creed’s ghost. His clothes were still folded in the drawers, for crying out loud.
“He’s not coming back,” he told the horse that nipped at his shoulder. “We’ve had this conversation, man; I tried to make him come back. He just doesn’t love us enough.”
Kip was a great horse; Creed was right about that. He’d trained him to be patient and loving and dependable. All the horse wanted in return was an apple or two and some affection. Eli reached around his neck to pat him. “You’re a good man, Kip. A real good man, buddy. Better than me.”
He heard the engine in the distance. A cloud of dust billowed up from the road. Eli didn’t think much of it until the car horn honked and scared the horse. He turned to see Randy’s cruiser sitting at the neck of his drive. He waited while he pulled past the house and came to a stop. Randy didn’t get out, and Eli wondered why he was here in the first place. Couldn’t be an official visit. He’d been good. No bars or bar fights. Unless it was an official visit. His heart leaped. Creed. Something had happened to Creed. Killed. One of the bulls had—
The passenger side door opened and Eli stopped walking. He didn’t remember starting for the car. He stood there behind the door looking at him. His hair loose around his shoulders, fear in his green eyes. “Is it too late?”
“No.” Eli couldn’t move. No, it wasn’t too late. “You came back?”
“I shouldn’t have left.” Creed closed the door and walked to him. His hands in his pockets. He bit his bottom lip in that way that Eli found endearing. He needed to shave. “I’m sorry.”
Eli pulled him close and cupped his face with his hands. “Me too.”
“I want to stay with you, I wanted it before. I was just afraid to let myself believe I could have this. Have you.”
“Me too.” Eli couldn’t stop looking at him. He was here. His hands shook. A tear slipped from Creed’s eye, followed by a second, and he trembled. This was real. No lies. Eli wiped the tears away with his thumbs. Creed caught a trembling breath and Eli kissed him. Creed seemed to melt into him, his lips soft, his tongue sweet. Just a kiss. But damn, what a kiss. “Welcome home.”
Creed wrapped him in his long arms and wouldn’t let go. Eli did the same. He couldn’t let go now. He could never let go again. “Love you, Eli. With every damned thing I have. Need you and a home. It’s been so long since I had a home.”
“Me too,” was all Eli could say. “Me too.”
Randy drove away without a word and Kipper became impatient for Creed’s attention. Eli let him go reluctantly. The heavy weight in his back pocket seemed to tug at his subconscious. He pulled out the felt pouch he’d stuffed there earlier. He’d planned to give it to him in Dallas but he’d forgotten.
“I was going to mail this to Sly today. I wanted you to have it.” He gave the felt pouch to Creed and watched his face as he unwrapped the gold buckle. “Don’t sell that ever again. Just don’t. It’s special. It’s always been special. You beat me for that buckle the last time we competed. Just don’t, okay.”
Creed held the gold carefully, his eyes on Eli. “I didn’t think I’d ever see it again. I was so stupid.”
“Water under the bridge. I got it back. I knew you’d want it.”
“Eli…” Creed let the horse nuzzle his neck, his hand on Kip’s long nose, the other holding the buckle.
Eli stepped in front of him and whispered against his lips. “Yeah, me too.”
Epilogue
The banner over the drive read
Congratulations Creed and Becca
. Barbecue smoked from several locations around Eli’s ranch. Laughter pealed across the flat land and carried on the breeze. Men, women, children. Good friends, young and old.
Creed sat on the tailgate of Eli’s old pickup truck drinking a bottle of water and watching the gathered crowd. One person in the crowd in particular. Eli wrapped his arm over Randy’s shoulder. Both of them held a baby in their arms; there was laughter in their eyes. Two other little kids swarmed around their legs. Eli looked happier than Creed had ever seen him. He loved watching him when Eli wasn’t aware of what he was doing and let himself be happy.