88. Chapter 88
“To your first gunfight.”
Jase lifted his beer and clinked it with Lindsey’s wine glass, and they sipped.
“Not yours?” Lindsey asked.
“Technically, no,” Jase said.
“I want to hear more about that.”
“It’s not as exciting as it sounds. I’ve got to say, you handled yourself really well today.”
“How do you mean?”
“You held your shit together. You helped Saul. It was impressive.”
His dick had been perpetually hard since they almost kissed underneath the desk. Of all things, watching her bark orders and apply an actual tourniquet solidified the erection that had pointed the way to the coast. He finally relieved it in the motel shower. Twice.
“Where’d you learn how to do that? Your dad?” he asked.
“Yeah, mostly. He wanted us to be able to handle ourselves.” She held her hand out. “I’m still shaking though.”
Her fingers vibrating with a fine tremor was a reminder of how close they’d actually come to dying today. How terrified he’d been that he wouldn’t be able to protect her. His hands were still shaking too.
“Could be from the bike too,” Jase offered. “Takes a while to get used to it. What did you think of the ride?”
“I loved it.” She smiled then reined herself in with a shrug. “Beats the car.”
Too late. Jase had caught her face when she took off her helmet and shook out her hair.
She had stared at the ocean with fresh eyes full of reverence and peace.
The same way he’d felt when he first started riding and discovered the freedom of going anywhere, everywhere.
The world suddenly felt bigger than Ohio, and he felt bigger than the skinny kid who wasn’t good at anything.
“What do you think they’re doing now?” she asked.
He hadn’t thought about Graham since they left the beach.
Jase and Lindsey’d had almost an hour to take in the sounds of an ocean they could barely see in the dark near Stearns Wharf in Santa Barbara before Graham rolled up to take Whitlock’s photo.
While they waited, Jase and Lindsey had decided that if they could sleep in the car together, they could share a motel room.
We’re adults. Screw it.
Lindsey’s words.
Screw it. Exactly, Jase thought. There was something shy and sexy about the milky white skin of her bare collarbone now in the soft glow from the restaurant lights strung above the patio table.
The last map ended a half a day’s ride north in Santa Cruz.
Tonight, Lindsey wanted one nice dinner out of the whole trip and dolled herself up to make the most of it.
Did she let the dress fall off her shoulder on purpose?
It always seemed to happen. Jase was finding it more enticing than intentionally low-cut shirts and abundant cleavage. Even a tattoo would’ve spoiled it.
“Don’t care,” Jase said. “I don’t want to waste our last night talking about Graham.”
“Okay.” She lifted the delicate glass to her lips and sipped her red wine. It was the first time Jase saw her drink alcohol that wasn’t shots or beer. “What do you normally do in California?”
Chloe. But he definitely didn’t want to talk about her.
“Denise said you were here when your dad—”
“Denise?”
“Your dad’s nurse.”
Also not up for discussion.
“Yeah, I know Denise. She told you I was in California?”
Lindsey nodded and averted her eyes, probably remembering how Jase had been gone—a short day’s ride from here, actually—instead of at his dad’s bedside when he passed.
“Speaking of my dad,” he said. “I wanted to thank you for what you did.”
She looked up. “What do you mean?”
“Graham told me you were there when it…happened. I’m glad he wasn’t alone.”
He thought she’d appreciate hearing it and didn’t count on the way it darkened her face.
“Since neither of you were there?” she asked.
He shifted in his chair. “Yeah.”
“Why were you in California?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
The intensity of her stare suggested she’d wait forever.
“My dad asked me to do something for him,” he said, clearing his throat. “He must’ve known it was almost over, so he asked me for a favor. A last request.”
“I thought this trip was his last request.”
“This was different. He asked me to bring something out here and made me promise not to come back until it was done.” He paused, then said, “I was here the day it happened.”
“What about the funeral?”
“I told Graham I needed more time to get back, but he wouldn’t wait.”
“There must’ve been some way to make it back in time,” Lindsey reasoned.
“It takes more than a couple days to get from California to Ohio.”
“Driving, yeah. You could’ve flown.”
“What was I supposed to do with my bike?”
“Parked it at the airport, or something.”
“You’re crazy.” He almost laughed at the absurdity. Leaving his bike had never crossed his mind.
Should it have?
“It’s your dad. If it was me, I would’ve done anything to be there.”
“I would’ve been if Graham wasn’t in such a hurry to get him in the goddamn ground. There was nothing I could do.”
“He should’ve waited, yes, but Jase…” Her words trailed off with her eyes, and she shook her head. “You still could’ve been there. If you were trying to punish Graham, I think you only ended up hurting yourself. And your dad.”
The heat of his rising blood pressure burned in his cheeks. Why did Jase have to explain himself to her? To anyone?
This. This right here. This is why I ride alone. This trip proved it over and over.
“Unbelievable,” he said. “Why does it even matter to you that I wasn’t at the funeral?”
“I don’t understand what would’ve kept you from it.”
Graham said something similar at the will reading. They’d probably talked about it and agreed Jase was a piece of shit, which was what he felt like right now.
“Whatever. It’s done and over with.” Jase stood and tossed a twenty-dollar bill on the table. “So is this conversation.”
“What? You’re leaving?”
“What do you think?” Jase slipped through a gate on the restaurant’s deck and down the narrow stone path toward the street.
“You’re just going to leave me?” she asked, following close behind. “After everything?”
“I’m not going to sit there and listen to you tell a story about what you think I should’ve done,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m not the bad guy here.”
“Of course not,” Lindsey snapped. “You’re not a bad guy. He’s not a bad guy. You know, you have more in common with Graham than you think. You both conveniently blame other people instead of taking responsibility for yourselves.”
On the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, Jase whipped around to face her. “Don’t you ever compare me to him. You don’t know shit about me.”
Lindsey glowered. “True, but I know a lot about Graham and there are some striking similarities.”
“Fuck off.”
“You know what I think? I think the reason you’re alone isn’t because you get off on being a dark horse, but you run away the second things get a little too real.
Exactly what you’re doing now. I can’t believe I was actually starting to think you were different.
How did your dad have two sons and neither of you are even half the man he was? ”
“What did you just say to me?” Jase asked, taking ahold of her arm. She was talking with her hands, and they were getting awfully close to his face.
“You heard me. I wish I never met either one of you.”
“Feeling’s mutual, babe,” Jase said.
“Have a nice life. A nice, long, lonely life.”
Lindsey ripped her arm from his grip and headed in the opposite direction.
“I will!” Jase called after her.
She waved once without looking back. Her hips swayed the width of the sidewalk.
Wait.
What the hell just happened?
Jase blinked, and his mouth gaped at his inheritance staunchly strutting in the other direction in a black, flowered dress that could barely keep up.
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
What did he see in her anyway? She’d compared him to Graham. Graham, of all people. Who was she to make that claim?
Lindsey was almost at the end of the block. Where did she think she was going? Her bag was locked in their room at the motel, and the only key was in Jase’s pocket.
Millions of dollars. Walking away.
Again.