Seven Days (5 page)

“I get it, Brit,” I stopped her as the truck pulled into the empty spot beside us and Ryan jumped out, looking delicious in a pair of black cargo shorts and black fitted t-shirt. His brown hair looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. I bit my lip at the sudden urge I had to plunge my fingers into it and mess it up even more. Preferably, it would be while he had his tongue down my throat.

The thought of him kissing me with aggression gave me pause. Aside from when Noah and I first started dating, it had been a while since I’d felt any kind of attraction to the opposite sex. To be fantasizing about Ryan gave me hope that those parts of me that responded to desire weren’t broken. Perhaps, I just hadn’t met anyone that inspired these types of reactions before.

As he rubbed at sleepy eyes, I suddenly couldn’t wait to get into his truck and start our adventure. It would probably amount to a chapter in the story of his life, but for me, I hoped it would replace a few of the nightmares. At least I knew before we started this trip it was all Ryan and I would get. One week from today, Britton and I would leave this town for the last time, and leave this state for the first time ever. After we were gone, I was sure Ryan would learn about my dubious reputation. I hoped I would be a bittersweet memory at that point, rather than his biggest regret. If it ended up being the latter, I was glad I would never have to see that look of disgust in his eyes when he realized he’d wasted a day, maybe a whole week with a whore.

“If you do not climb that man before we leave, I
will
disown you,” my sister said, snapping me out of my own personal pity party.

“I’ll see what happens,” I evaded, stepping out of the passenger side door. I let my hair fall across the injured side of my face as I pulled my duffle from the backseat. Optimistically, I’d packed enough to carry me through the week. Just in case.

“You’d better take care of her, young man,” my sister called from the open drivers’ side window in her fake stern voice. I knew she was trying to lighten the mood to show me that she was going to be okay. I gave her my own fake stern face as I came around the car to say goodbye to her.

“Love you, Brit,” I told her, looking into her soft brown eyes as I bent to hug her.

“Love you, too, Carrie,” she granted, as her hand patted my back. I couldn’t explain it, but the shadow that crossed over me at that point almost had me pulling her out of the car and forcing her to go with us. I knew she’d push me off and tell me that I’d earned this, that I needed to act my age just once in my life. With everything in me, I fought the impulse and stepped back from the car. Chewing the inside of my cheek, I watched as she pulled out of the parking space, taking every last second to memorize her features before I turned to face Ryan fully.

“Your sister is something else,” he said from behind me, a smile in his voice.

“Yeah,” I nodded, turning with my head down and handing him my bag. “Ready to go?” I asked, shaking my hair from of my face out of habit, when a piece tickled my nose. Realizing my mistake a second too late, I tried not cringe when I felt him stiffen beside me.

“Who did this?” he asked, the tips of his fingers sending shockwaves through my body as he lightly traced the bruise that had formed on my cheek.

“Why do you assume it was a someone and not a something?” I asked, defensively. He didn’t know me or my life. His assumption was right, but I didn’t want him thinking I didn’t know how to wipe up my own spills.

“Because you hid it from me,” he concluded, adjusting my bag in his hand. “In my experience, if the bruise was an accident, people don’t feel compelled to hide it. You didn’t own it from the beginning, hence you weren’t the clumsy one,” he said, his voice fiercely protective, his amber eyes flashing with anger. I would’ve been scared of what might happen next, but I knew the anger wasn’t directed at me. It was directed at Ben, even though he didn’t know it. Only I knew the face of the person responsible for this bruise, and the ones he couldn’t see.

“It’s nothing, and you don’t know me well enough to try to rescue me from whatever your Superman complex thinks I need to be saved from,” I brushed him off and stepped back from his still exploring fingertips. I tried to ignore the emptiness I felt at the loss of his touch.

After a beat, he stepped back, too and moved to put my duffle in the bed of his truck with a plethora of supplies. It looked like he’d brought over and above hiking boots and a change of clothes, much to my amusement. I was glad he didn’t call attention to the fact that I’d come prepared for a week with him, too. The only sign that he might still be irritated was the way he clenched his jaw, like he was fighting a natural inclination to dig further.

“I’m hoping that changes over the next couple of days,” he said, softly, before turning around again, and opening his passenger side door for me. Like a gentleman, he offered me a hand to help me into the tall truck that had no step assistance. Fortunately, because of our plans for the day, I was wearing jeans and my own well-worn hiking boots so climbing into the cab wasn’t as difficult as it might’ve been.

After I settled into the warm leather seat, he closed my door and rounded the cab to take his place behind the wheel. He cranked the engine and put the truck into gear before looking over at me. “Well?” he asked, like it was obvious what he was asking me.

“Well?” I parroted, looking at him questioningly. “What?”

“I don’t know where I’m going,” he pointed out, bringing a small amount of heat to my cheeks.

“Oh, well, I guess that would help, huh?” I giggled, hiding my flushed face.

“Don’t do that,” he admonished, moving my hands to my lap. “Don’t hide from me, please.”

“Um, take a left out of the parking lot, and then make a right when you get to Ellsworth,” I directed, ignoring his request. Giving me a look of quiet speculation, he finally pulled out of the parking lot and toward our destination.

“Your truck is nice,” I said after we were in the long stretch toward the Usery Mountains.

“Thanks,” he nodded, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of us. “I got it before I moved cause I heard trucks were a big thing here.”

“So you like to follow the trends?”

“Nah,” he shook his head, “I just heard that it would be good if I planned on doing any traveling, so I guess we’ll see this week, huh?”

“I guess so,” I nodded, turning my head to look out the window as the desert passed by.

“Where are we?” he asked as I asked, “Where are you from?”

“Boston,” he answered me before I registered his question.

“Apache Junction is a long way from Boston.”

“I needed a change,” he said, his voice took on a slight edge during his answer to a question I hadn’t asked.

“You don’t have an accent,” I pointed out, sensing that his departure from Boston might not have been a happy one. My own curiosity wanted to ask him about it, but I knew that turnabout would be fair play. I did not want to talk about myself in any real way with Ryan. I didn’t really share myself, who I really was, with anyone.

“I do when I get angry,” he joked.

“Good to know,” I smiled, softly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Ah, so you’re going to piss me off on purpose so you can make me sound like a Kennedy?” his eyes slid, briefly, to me.

“We’ll see, but, um, we’re in the Usery Mountain area. It’s the easiest way to get to the highway we need to be on without having to backtrack too much,” I shrugged. “Back tracking is one of my biggest pet peeves.”

“It’s pretty, but not where I expected to be headed when you told me to dress for hiking and to meet you early,” he confessed.

“Well, we still have another hour or so on the road before we get where I’m taking you,” I divulged. “Did you think I was going do the cop-out thing and take you hiking in the Superstitions?”

“Well, kinda,” he chuckled.

“That’s so uninspired,” I said in mock disappointment. “I mean, it’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but it’s kind of anti-climactic when you see it every single day, you know?”

“So, where are you taking me?” he asked, suddenly sounding more excited.

“You’ll know when we get there,” I said, matter of fact.

“I’ll know when we get there,” he repeated.

“Turn right at the next stop sign,” I directed, seeing the metal building that housed Salt River Recreation in the distance. It was still too early for the area to be bustling with people looking to spend their day floating down the river, so the parking lot was a ghost town.

After that, we drifted into a comfortable silence again and I wished I’d picked up an energy drink before I’d left the house. I’d finally crashed after work the night before, but got a lot less sleep than I usually did when my body finally gave up. 84 hours was my record for how long I could stay awake, but it usually resulted in sleeping for 16 straight afterward. I’d been up for nearly 72 when I succumbed, but I’d only recouped about seven hours before I had to be up to meet Ryan.

“What are we crossing over?” he asked, pulling me from my calculations and drawing my focus to where we were.

“It’s called a river,” I said, like I was talking to a five year old.

“I know that, smartass,” he laughed. “What river is it?”

“Salt River, didn’t you read the signs?”

“You’re supposed to be my tour guide, why would I need to
read
?” he asked, as if it should’ve been the most understandable thing in the world to me.

“I guess I’m falling down on the job, aren’t I?”

“It’s okay,” he said, giving me a quick look. “I just like that you are here and I get to spend the next few hours loving the way you’ve made my truck smell like lavender,” he flirted with a wink, as I felt a whisper of touch against the hand I had on the bench seat between us.

“Oh,” I blushed and looked out the window again. “Well, um, we are going to pass by Saguaro Lake soon. It’s man-made,” I said, slipping into my tour guide persona.

“Man-made lakes,” he chortled, “now I’ve seen everything.”

“Hey, this may be the desert, but everyone needs water to survive,” I explained, feeling defensive for a reason I didn’t quite understand. “They dammed up the river in a few places, made lakes.”

“Okay, okay, I didn’t mean to offend your sensibilities.”

“You didn’t, but once we get past all this stuff, the next time we cross a major road, you need to make a right. That’s the highway,” I guided, shifting my body to look more fully out the window at the mountains and hills we were driving through. “I wouldn’t look for it right away, we’ve got some time. We’ll be on the highway for about an hour, and then we’ll get out and stretch before the next leg.”

“Okay, you can rest if you need to. Tildy told me you work doubles most days, you’ve gotta be tired.”

“Nah, but I might zone out a little if that’s alright.”

“Ha! Zone away, I guess,” he allowed. “Do you mind if I turn on some music?”

“How very gracious of you and of course not,” I smirked, looking at him over my shoulder before laying my head against the door and letting my mind drift as the open strains of “The One That Got Away” by the Civil Wars filled the cab. “Good song,” I mumbled.

I was glad to be getting away from the toxicity that was the trailer park where I grew up, but I couldn’t help but hope that Britton would hold up her promise and stay far away from our dad until I got home and told her all was clear. It’s why I’d stuck around after I’d graduated high school. Dad hadn’t worked in three years at that point and it was up to me to keep the bills paid and the house afloat. I did everything I had to in order to make that happen, so I knew what I’d be leaving Britton to deal with. She’d just turned fourteen and had been visited by the breast fairy that had skipped over me. She wouldn’t stand a chance. I mean, I had folded under the pressure at that age, so I had no doubt she’d succumb, too. I couldn’t leave her to follow in my example, the precedence I’d set for how girls in the Patrick family kept from getting evicted and having a father you had to hide from because he was in withdrawals.

I only had fleeting memories of what life had been before my mom had died, and where I was taking Ryan was one of the few good memories I had from my former life. I hoped that he would love it as much as I had. I hoped that it would live up to my own expectations, since I’d previously seen it through innocent and naïve childhood eyes.

Click.

“
See, bitch, I’m invincible,” I heard my dad say from the living room.

“
Whatever,
Dick
, you just got lucky,” my mom spat, emphasizing a nickname my dad hated.

“
Quit stalling, Anne, my buzz is wearing off and I left the rest of my stash at home,” I heard Ben complain.

“
That’s cause she’s scared, baby,” the voice of a woman I didn’t know taunted.

“
Gimme the damn gun, Candy. I’m not scared of jack shit,” my mom snarled.

I didn’t know why they were playing with a gun, because my dad always said that a gun wasn’t a toy. He said that someone could get hurt. All I wanted to do was sleep, but the party noise was making that impossible. The air in the trailer was also thicker than usual and it made my head feel funny. Laying my head on my pillow, I closed my eyes as the house shook from the explosion of the bullet being released from the chamber and into my mother’s head.