The Right Kind of Wrong (6 page)

I don't answer because I can't. My eyes fill with tears. My heart feels as heavy as the bricks I used to help him carry from his truck.
 

"Kara, do you hear me?"

I look him in the eye and he stares back at me with more love than I can possibly handle. " I hear you, Grandpa."

"You promise me you'll go? I want to hear you say it."

I think about lying. I try to come up with an excuse but I can't.
 

The worst part is, I want to go.
 

I've never wanted anything more in my life than to get out of this shitty town, away from my father and start over. But starting over meant leaving my grandparents behind.
 

"I promise I'll go."

My grandfather is not the kind of man to cry. I've seen him cry only a handful of times but this moment, this terrifying moment, he does. They are not my kind of tears, the kind that fall in steady streams. His few tears stain his wrinkled cheeks but they are the most beautiful tears I've ever seen. I put my arms around his neck and memorize the scent of cedar oil and peppermint.

"I love you Grandpa."
 

"I know you do, sweetheart. I know you do."
 

Vince clears his throat and I let the memory fade. Vince is watching me.
 

"You okay?"

I'm not really okay but I smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You were crying."

I wipe the evidence from my cheek. "I'm fine, really. How was your nap? You only slept a half hour or so."

"Are you drunk? Look at the clock. I've been asleep for, like, two hours."
 

I glance at the dash. He's right. "Oh."

"You want me to take over? You look tired."
 

I crack my neck and shift in my seat. My ass is numb and my hands are sore from gripping the wheel. I slow the car down and stop on the shoulder.
 

I get out and stretch. The sun is setting and the horizon looks like it's on fire. I get in the passenger seat.
 

"Why don't you try to sleep? We're about two hours from the Utah state line. You wanted to stay in Salt Lake City tonight, right?"
 

I close my eyes and mumble a "yeah," though I'm not sure I say it loud enough before everything fades out around me.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT

I wake up to my car alarm blaring. I snap to attention, disoriented. Vince is missing and the car is parked under a hotel awning.
 

Through the glass hotel doors, I see Vince fiddle with the car key. Finally, the locks click open and the warning beeps disappear.
 

I get out as Vince walks to me. "Sorry. I hit the panic button somehow and it wouldn't shut off."
 

"I guess we made it to Salt Lake City?" Vince rubs his bloodshot eyes and exhaustion practically drips off him. "Yeah, we made it. One problem though..."

"And that is?"

"This is the third hotel I've stopped at and it’s the only one with a vacant room. Apparently, there's some big rodeo in town."

"So, what's the problem?"

"I said there's one vacant room.” He emphasizes the ‘one.’ “With one queen bed."
 

"Oh. That is a problem."
 

"That's what I thought you'd say."
 

I try to think about it logically. We've been in the car almost twelve hours. I'm still groggy from sleep. Vince looks like he couldn't drive another mile and we have another fifteen hours or so ahead of us. I hold Vince's gaze. "Alright. Let's do it. We're both adults, we'll make it work."

Vince's expression reflects his surprise. "Really?"
 

I yawn and stretch my legs. "It's not like we have another choice, do we?" I'm too tired to worry about it.”

"Right. I'll check us in, then. Why don't you park the car and I'll help with the bags in minute?"
 

"Okay." I park the car and grab what I can.
 

I meet him in the lobby and he takes the luggage and gestures for me to follow him to our room. When we get there, he just stands in front of the door. "Shit. The key is in my back pocket." He shifts his position so his ass is near my hand.
 

It's there in front of me, asking to be looked at, again. As big of an ass as he is, it’s fitting that he also has a pretty sexy one. His right back pocket has a slight bulge in it. Just grab it and be done with it.

 
I reach in.
 

"You totally touched my ass," he says as I unlock the door.
 

I groan and roll my eyes. "You want to sleep in the car?" But the minute his back is to me, the corners of my mouth tug upward. I look around the room and note that it does in fact have only one bed but it sure as hell doesn't look queen sized. More like full. The more I stare at it, the smaller it gets. Now, it's twin sized.
 

"Not a terrible room, I guess." Vince sets his camera equipment in a corner. I toss our bags on the bed and look around. Small. Everything is small. Even the window looks miniscule. Maybe I'm just too damn tired to see things for what they really are.

 
Vince unzips his bag and pulls out a bundle of clothes. "I'm gonna jump in the shower."
 

Vince closes the bathroom door and I hear the steady ping of water falling. I change into my favorite sweats and t-shirt. I grab the extra pillow and blanket from above the hanging rack by the door and move by instinct to set up camp on the floor. We're not going to be here long, and I don't want to mess with a cot. I cocoon myself in the scratchy blanket. Don’t think about the grime and organisms crawling over the fabric, I tell myself.
 

Several minutes later, I'm in that dream-like state between barely awake and almost sleeping. I vaguely hear the shower shut off. One minute I'm on the floor and the next, I'm being lifted and set down on clouds. At least that's what it feels like—fluffy, hovering clouds.

Ringing. Alarms.
My eyes fly open and I'm surrounded by darkness. And snoring. The high-pitched ringing echoes and in my groggy state I realize it's my cell phone on the dresser. It stops suddenly and a sliver of light peeks through the blinds.
 

Vince's body takes up half the bed. His arms are fanned out beneath his pillow and his almost-white skin is exposed.

Suddenly, I'm glad for two things. That he is very much asleep and the lights are off. I'm acutely aware that the only thing separating us is a thin wall of covers, which I seem to have stolen from him.
 

I tip-toe to the dresser and swipe the cell phone from the counter and escape to the bathroom before Vince wakes and sees me creeping around the room. The LED at the top of the phone blinks: missed call. When the screen lights up, my heart stops in my chest. Roderick. I try to swallow but my throat is dry and it hurts like a hundred cotton balls are stuck there. I fill the cheap, plastic glass on the counter with water and sit on the toilet. I turn the phone on and then off. On. Off. On. On. On.
Just do it, Kara.

I push the send button and Roderick's number appears on the screen. It seems like forever before he picks up. His voice is equal parts pissed off and concerned.

"Where the hell are you, Pierce?"

I gulp. "In Salt Lake City."

"What? Why?"

"Didn't Kyle tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I... well... see it's just that..."

"Spit it out Pierce."

"I quit," I whisper.

"I didn't hear what you said."

"I said, I—"

 
The bathroom door jerks open and Vince stands in the doorway, his hand on his hips, his hair standing straight up. I cover the mouthpiece of the phone even though Roderick is yelling.
 

"Get out!" I hiss to Vince.
 

"Why are you talking on the phone while going to the bathroom?"

I push him so hard he stumbles out of the bathroom, his face flushing in pain when I hear the sick, cracking noise his back makes when it hits the wall. I hesitate half a second before slamming the door shut and locking it.
 

"Roderick?" I expect a dial tone.

"What in the hell is going on with you?"

"I was trying to tell you that I quit."

Silence.

"I told Kyle I quit the internship and I thought..." I stare at the fake marbled floor. "I thought he told you."

Roderick exhales. "No, he didn't tell me. What happened?"

Yeah, like I'm going to tell the truth. "I…" Lie. Tell him you had a family issue. Say something. Anything. "Things just weren't working out."

"They seemed to be working just fine. You just need a day off right? You can take a couple days to recoup. I need you back here by the end of the week. You've got the Malloy trial to cover."

I cover my mouth. I spent the last month convincing Roderick I was ready to cover the trial even though I was a lowly intern. A stupid fact checker. And he was giving it to me on a silver platter.
 

I think of having to call my grandmother to tell her I can’t make it. I think of the $20,000 calling my name. I even think of Vince in the other room. Vince, who I still don't trust. Vince, who almost ruined my life. And yet—I can't do to him what he did to me. I
won't
do it.
 

"I'm sorry, Roderick. I can't. This project is important."
 

"That's it then? You're giving up everything you worked for the past three years for a college project?"

I tense at the accusation. "I don't have a choice. If I don't finish this project, I don't graduate."

"You don't come back, you lose any standing you have here."

The wad of cotton is back in my mouth and this time it threatens to choke me completely. "Roderick, please, let me finish this project and I promise I'll be back and I’ll do anything you need."

Roderick sighs. "I'm sorry. Do you know how many students would kill to be in your position? Plenty. Good luck with your project, Kara."
 

"But..." It's too late. He's gone. The silence mocks me. I almost throw my phone against the wall. Instead, I turn on the shower. I sit on the edge of the tub, letting rogue water drops hit my arms and legs. I stare at the stream of water until the need to cry subsides and steam creates thick, humid clouds. I let the stickiness cling to me until Vince pounds on the door. I try to ignore it, block it out, but he's really going at it.
 

"What?" I open the door.
 

"I need to piss. What are you doing in here? Did you take a shower?"

I can't help but snarl. "Does it look like I took a shower?"

"No, it looks like you just rolled out of bed."

I try to shut the door but he stops it and pushes back. He's stronger then he looks. "Seriously, what's your problem?"

I narrow my eyes. "You are my problem! You ruined my life once and now you're doing it again."
 

His eyebrows arch in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"This stupid project and going back to Iowa. Well, thanks to you, now I'll never have a chance to make it at
The Bee.
Just get out of my way."

He looks stunned but quickly regains his composure. "You really should think about drinking coffee in the morning before you talk to people. Bitchy is not a good look for you." He pushes the door open wide and walks in, leaving me amazed.
 

"You gonna leave me in peace or do you want to watch me pee?" I roll my eyes and slam the door. Earning that $20,000 is going to be a bitch.

C
HAPTER
N
INE

After checking out of the hotel and traveling halfway across Wyoming, Vince's lack of conversation is driving me insane. I know he's pissed at me, but when you're locked in a car together, the silence sounds so much louder. I'm so bored I try to engage Vince in any kind of talk I can.

"Have you been to Yellowstone?" I ask.

"No."
 

"I've never been, either."

 
He nods but doesn't say anything.

I keep talking. "We never really went on vacation. My grandparents were too old and sick to travel."

"So, you lived with your grandparents or something?" he asks.
 

"Yeah, I moved in with them when I was eight."

Vince fiddles with his camera, but loses interest and sets it in the center console between us. "Why'd you move in with them?"
 

The question throws me. "That's not really any of your business." Vince shrugs like he doesn't care one way or the other. "Whatever. Just trying to get an understanding of things before I walk into your former life."

I bristle at the idea of anyone waltzing into my 'former' life. "It's not all that interesting."

I look at him just in time to see the corners of his mouth lift in a smile. "Try me." Once we get to Everson, there's not much he won't find out on his own. I sigh. He might as well hear it from me. "My mom died when I was six. My dad went off the deep end and I moved in with my grandparents. The end."

"I'm sorry."
 

I'm determined to keep him talking. "Your turn."
 

"Huh?"

"An eye for an eye. Or in this case, an anecdote for another anecdote. I gave you mine, now you owe me one."

He laughs, but it doesn't sound very Vince-like. "Um, yeah. I never agreed to that. Besides, I don't have anything to share. Boring life equals boring stories. Sorry."

I glare at him for a half-second. "Somehow, I really doubt that."
 

Vince doesn't deny it but stares out the window, avoiding my eyes. After a minute he asks, "Want to play a game?"

"Game? What do you have in mind?"

He sits a little higher in his seat. "A twenty questions kind of game. You can ask anything, and the other person has to answer. No matter whether they want to or not."