Tucker performed fair in his first ride, but was eliminated in the afternoon, although he was thrilled to have done as well as he did, considering how long he’s been out of the sport. He joins Battle and I for dinner. All of the hostility I felt when I met him yesterday has vanished. The two of them catch up, which is mostly Tucker sharing stories about his little boy, Ryder. He’s obviously a doting father, and none of us bring up the elephant in the room. How he and Stacy will work out what happened, is between them.
A taxi drops us at the front gate. The party on the lot tonight makes last night’s look tame. There’s a band playing on a make-shift stage with a large crowd line dancing in front. The number of people has doubled, as has the number of groupies out to achieve some ride-a-cowboy fantasy.
A large crowd congregates around our site, although I can’t see exactly what holds their attention. As, we get closer, I hear Battle yell, “Shit!”
His strides increase until he’s jogging. I follow him as he pushes through the crowd. Cooper comes into view, pressed against the metal wall of the motorhome. He lifts his arm, dodging blows from a woman with waist length blonde hair. She screams in his face, and he keeps yelling at her to go home.
Rachel, I assume.
Battle lifts her up, pulling her away, but she fights him. He sets her on her feet, blocking her way. She glares at him, breathing erratically.
“Calm down, Rach,” he says firmly.
“Fuck you, Battle
!” she shouts. I feel a need to go defend him, but as I step forward, a hand grabs my arm.
“Better stay outta that one,” Tucker drawls. “That girl’s crazier than a shit house rat.” He laughs. “Some things never change.”
Is he kidding? Never change. Tuck hasn’t been around in well over a year.
Rachel tries to move past Battle, but he side-steps her. She yells over his shoulder to Cooper. “I come all this way to surprise ya and find you with this whore.” She points her finger, my eyes finding Katie on the end of it, cowering on the side of the motorhome. Rachel yanks on her finger. She holds a ring in the air. “So much for your promises. We ain’t gettin’ married. Things ain’t any different, Coop. You ain’t changed a bit, and I’m done puttin’ up with your shit!”
She chucks the ring at him. It tinks off the wall of the motorhome. He doesn’t so much as flinch. “Good. Go on! Get outta here.” Cooper pushes off the wall, “Damn woman ain’t been nothin’ but trouble since the day we met,” he mumbles and goes inside the motorhome.
The crowd disperses and Battle walks Rachel to her car. I sit at the table and text Marty and Ginger to see where they are, but they don’t reply. Tucker goes inside to check on Cooper, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.
I can’t help but wonder if these trips are always packed with drama. I’ve never witnessed anything close to what happened with Cooper and Rachel.
As groupies work the crowd, desperate to garner one night of attention, insecurity sneaks its way into my mind. Am I destined to end up like Rachel, or even Stacy, if I continue whatever this is with Battle? How long can a man be faithful when he’s constantly tempted by women promising silence for one night with him?
Grammy would say, “A man truly in love could never be swayed,” but I’m not sure Battle can ever love at all, let alone with certainty.
“I see your mind workin’.” Battle interrupts my thoughts.
I shrug, averting my eyes to the fire at the site diagonal from us. The orange and magenta flames dance in the night with wild passion, much in the way the man examining me lives his life. I don’t think I can ever keep up with him, or give him enough to sustain his desires. He told me his blood is hot, and he has no intention of changing. We don’t have a commitment. I’m not sure I can be at home while he’s on the road when I’ve seen what’s available for him. I’d lose my mind. Jealousy would stalk me in my sleep. Before long, I’d end up as crazy as Rachel.
“You gonna talk to me, or you gonna keep ignorin’ what you’re feelin’?”
He pulls a chair up and sits in front of me. His infectious blue eyes look cloudy and grey in the night. I smile, unable to pull my gaze away, though I want to, because I’m afraid he can see everything I want to hide.
“I don’t know what I’m feelin’,” I admit.
“I think I do,” he says with confidence, leaning forward and caressing my cheek in his hand. I hold it against my face, allowing the warmth of his touch to seep into my skin and spread throughout my body. I swallow, feeling wetness in my eyes, although I don’t understand why. I’m not sad. I smile at him, feeling my doubts slipping away when he returns the smile. “I ain’t Coop. I’m not out here hookin’ up with all these girls.”
A tear slips, burning my skin as it falls and reminding me that I’m already in too deep with Battle to walk away unscathed. “It isn’t only the girls that bothers me. I thought I could do this middle thing, but I don’t actually know what that means.”
With my face still pressed to his hand, he strokes my cheekbone with his thumb. “It means I get to laugh with you, and find out everything that’s in your heart, and how that beautiful mind works. It means I have to be braver than I’ve ever been if I want to keep you, and share things I don’t like talkin’ about. It means I hurt when you hurt, so please stop cryin’.” I pull back, drying my eyes. My chest heaves, bringing more tears. Only these tears are happy as I absorb his words, realizing how desperately I needed to hear them. “It means I don’t wanna see anyone else.” He leans back in the chair, but maintains my gaze.
I wipe my eyes, sniffling. “You don’t?”
“No. Jesus, Faye, is that what you’ve been thinkin’?”
“I didn’t know where we stood,” I admit, lifting my shoulders. “The middle is kinda vague.”
“Well, it ain’t for me,” he drawls as he leans forward. With one hand, he squeezes my cheeks. “I don’t share my woman.”
I laugh and push his hand away. As sexist as his caveman-like comment is, my confidence soars.