Wyatt Page 5

  “Told you he’s a prick.” Wyatt mutters, getting on his feet and grabbing keys.

  I wipe away the tears in my eyes. Wesley left? My heart turns and twists. I knew he was apt to leave, but his relationship with Dani was a game changer for him. I thought he might actually decide to stay. Worse still, I hate myself for feeling the selfish stab in my gut. What the hell am I going to do? I want to stay with the Kincaids because they were so enamored of Wesley, and I rode on his coattails. If he goes, where does that leave me? I can’t just stay here alone. Where will I go? What will I do? I feel like snarling at Wesley. How could he leave me? Dani? The Kincaids? My life. His life is way better here than he’s ever found anywhere else.

  “Where are you going?” I ask Wyatt.

  “To check on Dani and persuade the stupid prick to come back home.” His tone is mild despite calling Wesley names. I stare after him as he disappears, now utterly confused. He’s our last hope. Our only connection to each other is Wesley. Without him, I will have to leave. Dani won’t have the love she thought she found, and Wyatt will fade back into his tired life. Which I’m sure he wants, but for Dani, he is willing to go after Wesley?

  It tells me all there is to know about Wyatt. He’s selfless, kind, respectful, and he gets stuff done. He succeeds, too. He brings Wesley home that very night. Wesley is sheepish and embarrassed, but at least he is home. I hang back to let him and Dani reunite, but I want to throw myself at him in unbridled gratitude. While Dani gains a boyfriend, I gain a place to eat, sleep, and be reasonably safe. So Wyatt kind of saves my life. Even if I don’t tell him that.

  Dani and Wesley share a kiss and start a relationship, making it something real. Wyatt goes back to school, while I am here. Safe. But clueless as to what to do with myself, now or ever.

  WYATT

  Not long after Jacey shows up, Dani comes to me. She’s sad and hurt but mostly honest. As honest as I should have been with her. She’s also filled with guilt, believing she’s done something wrong, when I was the one who pushed her away. Far away. Not necessarily to another guy, but I did push her away from me and stopped letting her know me. She is no longer a part of my life in any real way. I’m aware of how wrong my attitude and moods have been. I’ve done okay at controlling it, but my mom and Dani realize I’m trying way too hard to act in my usual demeanor. My lame excuses last for a while until right about then.

  That’s the day I was listening to the girl I thought I’d marry and have kids with someday. We hoped to live in Silver Springs, but now we just aren’t in love with each other anymore.

  We love each other but we aren’t in love.

  And it’s such a relief. Instantly, her words liberate me. I’m free. No more pretending I’m fine. Or just tired. I don’t have an altered view on life. I’m not changed and ruined. It is such a relief to quit pretending.

  We can still be friends. It should hurt. A stabbing ache in my heart or feeling like she surgically removed it. Especially when it occurs to me that Wesley is the one she’s in love with. I hate the guy, and I don’t trust him, yet I don’t care anymore although I should. I should be overcome with jealousy, but it feels kind of abstract and feeble. Like nothing to me. When it should be everything.

  That’s when I realize I’ve not only changed but lost my soul. My moral compass. My heart. I didn’t lose it to Dani though; I lost it to life in general. I squandered it with shame and depression. I wished I were anyone but Wyatt Kincaid QB1 of the University of Northern Oregon. I also sometimes wish I were Wesley and free to throw some shit on my back and just go. I’d love to disappear without an explanation. Be whoever and whatever I want, when I want. No responsibilities. No expectations. No parents. No family. No plans. No goals. No ambitions. No failing projects. No disappointing others.

  I long for total autonomy. Complete and utter liberty. I can’t imagine such a thing. I’ve never had it and I don’t see a future where I ever will.

  Chapter 4

  JACEY

  “Do you mind if I come and watch you?”

  Wyatt’s busy lacing up his tennis shoes. He mostly wears shorts and a t-shirt. His sports casual style works for him. He glances up as he loops the lace. “Come and watch me where?”

  I kick a loose rock. “At your school.”

  “My school? Why?” Having done up his shoelaces, he jumps to his feet with a lithe, easy movement.

  “Honestly?”

  “I usually prefer that.”

  “I’ve never been to one.”

  “To a school?”

  “No. To a college campus. Or a college dorm, or housing or classroom or football game. You see where I’m going with this.”

  He squints while staring at me. “Are you for real?”

  I gaze at the worn toe hole of my canvas shoe. They were once white but have turned old and dingy. I don’t have much to spend on my fashion apparel obviously. “Yeah.” It’s embarrassing. I don’t look to see his expression. His tone of voice is shocked enough.

  “I didn’t know. Yeah, sure. You can come up. This weekend? Friday is our first game. It’ll be awesome.”

  I lift my head up. “Really? You don’t mind?”

  “Why would I mind?”

  “You seemed to mind everything Wesley did.”

  “You’re not Wesley. Besides I’ve stopped all that. Who rescued poor Wesley from the woods and brought him home?”

  It’s hard not to smirk at his sarcasm. Wesley, the big, bulky stud is very sweet, but he ran from anybody who might have expectations for him. Yes, Wyatt did bring him back. And without Wyatt, I believe Wesley might have never come back here to them. Or to Dani. Or to me.

  “You did.”

  “Exactly. So I’m the hero of Wesley’s story, not Tara or Ryder or Dani. Me! Besides, Jacey, you are nothing like him. You told us your name, age, and even encouraged my dad to look into your background. You have no secrets. Wesley was stupid by acting the other way. It annoyed me. You don’t annoy me, not so far.”

  “You are a hard guy to please. I’ll try not to upset you. But this Friday? Really?”

  “Really. You can walk on the campus anytime, you know. You don’t need my permission.”

  I shake my head. “I didn’t know that.”

  His head tilts. “That’s kind of sad.”

  “Yeah, my upbringing was kind of lacking. But,” I smile brightly. No. Nope, not going off into the sad years. Strictly forward from here on out. Moving forward is all that matters now and all I will allow. “It’s not lacking at all now.”

  “Right. But you’ve never seen a university?”

  “No.”

  “Did you graduate from high school?”

  “Yes, but my grade point average was too low to ever get me into college. Besides, what would I study? Why would I spend my time studying instead of working? How would I pay for it? Where would I live? How could I manage to eat and still go to school?”

  His head tilts again like a dog’s when it’s trying to understand what you’re saying. “I’m sorry, Jacey, that you didn't have a better start to your life. Or even a chance to consider it. But it would be great if you came to my campus. I’ll show you around.”

  I’m bored in Silver Springs. Like, please shoot my eyes out with a marble, bored. There’s nothing for me to do out here. The house is lovely but so rural. I’m out in the boondocks. Endless pastures and trees and rushing water. But rarely people. It’s five miles to little Silver Springs, which is nicer than being here, granted, but five miles? The bus runs barely once a day, going up and down the valley gorge. Good luck catching that. There’s no one to hang with besides Wyatt, Wesley, and Dani. Although I like them, they all have jobs and work. I don’t. I basically watch TV and hide in my room. It gives me way too much time to think. I already pondered my steps of ending up here after Bobby hurt me. He could have choked me harder, and it would have killed me.

  That realization always freaks me out, so I jump up and go outside for a run. My pace is more like joggi
ng, I guess. I head towards the Columbia River. The Kincaids have a long trail that leads to the beach which I have access to. I jog along the riverbank, being careful not to trip on roots, sticks, rocks, and the uneven ground. The concentration it requires to stay upright without twisting my ankle is well worth it.

  It distracts me from the overpowering feelings of remembering what it felt like to not being able to breathe and the pain of a burning, aching throat. It forces me to become more aware of my body, and to be present, now, right here, today. Which helps keep my brain from jumping backwards to that moment I was being choked. This clumsy jogging helps keep my triggers in check about the violence that brought me here and the feelings attached to it.

  I have never exercised a day in my life. But for some reason, I put on my flimsy canvas shoes, the closest thing to running shoes I own, and go outside to jog.

  My burning muscles and lungs prevent my brain from reliving the emotions I felt while being strangled, which could depress me if I allow it. I’m determined not to. The jogging not only takes my mind off what happened but it’s also a healthy new habit for me. I don’t have too many healthy habits. So it won’t hurt to start cultivating a few.

  The chance to visit his college is appealing. “Thanks, Wyatt. It seems like something fun for me to do. It’s very quiet around here, and I’m not used to it.”

  He’s leaning his hand on the porch railing, stretching his right leg out behind him as he prepares to run. “I’m sure it is. I’m a native, and even I find it quiet whenever I return. I have friends in the area at least. And I work.”

  Lord, I wish I did too. I don’t know if I should get a job considering I don’t know how long I’ll be in Silver Springs. Another day? A week? A month? It’s tough to make plans when you don’t have a permanent place to live.

  And I’m too chicken to ask and find out for sure. I… I really like this place. I might get bored and find it a little dull, but it’s safe, warm and I feel protected. All these things are so new for me and I’m quickly growing used to it and even luxuriating in it. It’s like my soul, my brain, my emotions can finally rest. After surviving for years… I can finally sit down and just be. So I don’t push the Kincaids to define how long I’ll be here or what they foresee as my future with them. If I push I might not like the answer. So, I deal with a little bit of dullness and revel in the rest.

  “Are you going for a run right now?”

  He switches legs. “No, I thought I’d stretch out and take a rest then.”

  I roll my eyes. “Can I come with you? I’ve started to jog recently.”

  “Recently? Meaning, in the few weeks you’ve been here?”

  I nod and give him a winning smile. He rolls his eyes, mimicking me. “Uh, okay. But first you have to realize you can’t keep up with me.”

  “Couldn’t you take it down a notch?”

  “Take it down a notch? As in what? Speed or distance?”

  “Both.” I grin, my eyes all but twinkling at him. I would like his company and it’s something to do. I’m desperate to fill the yawning, empty time that makes my days too long.

  He finishes stretching and rises. “How about this? I know a trail that’s a mile loop. We’ll start out together and if you slow down or get tired—”

  “You can start your real run, while I walk and cool down for a few laps.”

  He nods. “Exactly.”

  I understand his theory about us. He has ripped muscles. His calf muscles alone could split the tightness of his skin. I’m not anything like him. I have no muscle definition. Never, not once in my life did I ever want to get in good shape. But I’ll take this diversion in a heartbeat. It’s something for me to do and with someone whom I find very interesting.

  I scurry inside and slip on a pair of cotton shorts. I only have two pairs, and these are filled with holes and torn on the hems. I hope he’ll think I’m wearing it for the style, not because they’re worn out. I grab a t-shirt, sniff it and frown. It’s just ugly. Oh well, no one is judging here. Certainly not Wyatt. I hurry downstairs and see Wyatt in his truck where he is already waiting. He’s leaning over, spinning the knobs of his stereo.

  I hop in and bounce on the seat. “Wow, this is nice.”

  “It used to be my dad’s. He gave it to me when he bought his new truck.”

  Uh-huh. He was given a truck. I don’t comment, if only to avoid sounding snarky or envious. He was just explaining how he got it, not rubbing it in.

  He drives for a few miles and pulls into a small parking lot beside the river. A paved path leads from it to the trees, alongside the river, which makes it even more picturesque. After parking the truck, we both hop out, and I copy his methodical stretches. He notices me. “You don’t even know how to stretch beforehand?”

  “Well, jogging is kinda new for me. I wasn’t raised a quarterback, you know.”

  “Okay, try this.” He patiently walks me through several stretches. Counting along with me and encouraging me to do it for a long time. “Otherwise, you’ll hurt worse than you need to tomorrow,” he explains.

  I straighten up and salute him. “Okay, Coach.”

  He shakes his head and rolls his eyes at me. I burst out laughing. He’s pretty serious about this body conditioning regimen. He runs daily, lifts weights, and is always out tossing the football. Just for fun? I am beginning to think so.

  “Have you ever sprinted?”

  “Along the river.” Eagerly, I add, “It was way harder than the pavement.”

  “Along the river? Oh, Lord, how did you manage not to break an ankle or a leg? Don’t do that anymore. Just run strictly on the pavement. You should jog actually. And always start slowly. Come on.”

  He takes off in a trot. Well, I can do that, and I follow him, my legs pumping and arms swinging. I soon pass him with a smug grin. “No. Don’t go so fast. You’ll soon be collapsing from a side ache in about thirty seconds. Slow down. Keep it slow and steady.”

  I’m sure we could walk faster than he chooses to barely shuffle along. I want to call him grandpa, and the words are on the tip of my tongue, but I restrain the urge. He’s so nice to bring me along, and I appreciate that. For a while it goes uneventfully. I wish he’d at least try and test me. I think he’s a little excessive regarding the coddling because I’m a new runner. After a while, he comments, “You need to get a decent pair of shoes. You’ll get shin splits in no time if you keep wearing those things.”

  “Oh, I’ll get right to the store. Oh, wait, I have no wheels to get there. Oh, wait, I also have no money to buy them. In fact, I don’t even know where the store is around here.”

  Wyatt has the grace to duck his head down as he comes to a full stop. Surprised, I also stop and glance his way. “What?”

  “You’re right. That was a shitty thing to say.”

  Sweet. Wow. I can’t believe this huge, brawny football player would take my sarcasm so seriously. As if Wyatt could hurt me. Ha. He is kind, respectful, and never touches me in any capacity. What could he possibly think he did wrong?

  “It’s not a big deal. But thanks though.”

  He doesn’t start running yet. His expression is solemn to my smirk. “You set a low bar of expectation, don’t you?”

  Okay, now he’s lost me. “What are you talking about?”

  “I was a dick not to think about your circumstances before commenting on your shoes. It was callous of me to mention something you can’t easily change. I have four pairs of running shoes that I use strictly for training. So I sound like an entitled asshole. You know I was. Yet, you just let me off the hook. Look, I get that your bar for acceptable behavior included your last ex punching and strangling you. But you need to raise your bar far above where it is now, or the next asshole that comes along and takes your fancy might not strangle you but consider you his whipping post. See what I mean? Don’t let anyone treat you like an asshole.”

  I’m sure my jaw dropped. “Um, okay. Thanks. I guess.”

  “You have to decide h
ow you want others to treat you. Seems like you haven’t been too discerning about that.” He nods towards my throat.

  “What is this? Life lessons by Wyatt? That entitlement thing you just were lecturing me about and saying I let go too easily? Well, dude, you’re way over the line now. You have no idea what I’ve been through to get here. So don’t you dare cast your moral values on me. Yeah, maybe I still have things to learn, but I haven’t been out of my desperate, survival mode long enough to even begin to. The guy who strangled me? He was the only one who offered me a place I could afford to stay for the last year. I had no idea he’d resort to violence. He showed small signs of it, granted, but never to this extreme. I’ve been trying to survive on my own, and you just can’t understand the dynamics of that.”

  His handsome face remains stoic and he nods. “Fair enough. I guess I probably don’t.”

  “You did the same thing with Wesley. You’re pretty damn judgmental.”

  He starts his shuffle-jog again, swinging his big arms at his side, back and forth. I begin to follow him again. I’m uneasy now. The guy is too intense. I always thought Wesley was a little intense, but this is different. Wesley was trying to avoid the cesspool we lived in. He was so smart. I think Wesley could be a genius in his intelligence, which is something I wasn’t gifted with. Anyway, Wesley was trying to survive. This? Wyatt’s demeanor is intensely cool and serious. Like he couldn’t enjoy himself if someone pressed a gun to his temple and commanded it.

  “I didn’t judge you as harshly as Wesley. After he robbed the old lady at the charity, I didn’t like Wesley. You weren’t subjected to seeing my mom’s affinity for him either. I suspected he was setting her up, using her own past and the empathy she felt towards him against her best interests. I assumed Wesley was either a con man or criminal. You, however, just asked a friend for help. Yeah, it seemed sad that the friend you came to for help spent most of his life on the road with a giant backpack. Seeing those bruises, I figured pretty quickly that things weren’t going very well for you.”