8. Kali
8
KALI
W e didn’t fly, and to this day, I couldn’t tell you why that didn’t happen. We just didn’t. Aly offered her SUV, so after she and Harper made their plans (I didn’t know what those were), we piled our suitcases into the vehicle. Then Harper brought out a cloth grocery bag of food, and Aly started bringing out the coolers.
Not one, or two. Three coolers.
Those were just the food.
The beverages filled up another two. I didn’t want to look at what she’d put in there, but I knew Aly liked her alcohol. I just hoped none of it was open.
But the next morning at ten, we were ready to go.
Aly wanted to drive. Harper wanted to ride shotgun—“the navigator,” he said. He looked the part with actual navigator sunglasses on and a huge map spread over his lap. I sat in the back, and when Aly started off, she handed her phone to me.
“Okay.” Harper smoothed his map, finding Friendly on it. “What route are we taking?”
Aly didn’t answer, she just looked at me.
I programmed Frisco, California, into her GPS app, hit the fastest route, and handed it back up.
The lady said, “Turn south onto US-50 W.”
Harper put the map down and gave us a look. “Fine. I was going for fun and adventurous, but if you two want to be bored out of your minds so early on, who am I to object?” If he’d sniffed, he would’ve sealed the whole thing.
He didn’t. Instead he slumped down in his seat and pulled out snack bag #1. As it crinkled, he popped two gummies into his mouth and lounged back. “So, Aly. You’re up.”
She tensed, her hands tightening on the wheel. “Why are we starting with me? Who needs coffee?”
She didn’t ask what the whole “up” thing was about. Those two knew.
I was missing out. “What’s going on?”
Harper ignored me, staring at Aly. “Your tank is full. We have beverages to last us for days. We both know Kali isn’t going to open up about her decision to go after her sister, when she just quit on Otis and she’s still digesting Foley’s cheating-capade, so the way I’m thinking, you’re up.”
“Keep on US-50 W for nine miles, where you’ll use the right lane to merge onto I-65 S using the ramp toward Louisville.”
Harper started laughing.
Aly groaned. “We talked about this last night.”
I leaned forward. No one had talked to me. “What talk? What’d you two talk about?” My hand curled over the back of Harper’s seat.
He continued to ignore me, his eyes on Aly. “We got her in the car for thirty-two hours, at least. We got time to grill Kali. You’re up. You might as well just start telling us about Mr. Hot and Sweaty Fireman.”
Aly’s eyes threatened to bulge out. She shifted in her seat, squirming.
I frowned. “I thought you wanted to date a millionaire farmer?”
“I do!” she burst out. “That’s my plan.”
“It’s not happening,” Harper said. “You’re almost forty—”
“I’m thirty-six.”
Harper shook his head, grabbing more gummies. The bag crinkled. “Let’s talk about who’s warming your sheets, and I heard you the other night. The floors aren’t that thick, not to mention the whole…” He hit the palm of his hand against the dashboard in a soft, tapping rhythm.
I fought off my laughter.
Aly looked ready to burst. Her face was all red.
Harper laughed and gestured to her hands on the steering wheel with his bag. “Hope you didn’t grip his dick that hard.”
“Agh!” she yelled, throwing herself back in her seat and releasing her hold on the wheel for a moment. One hand slid to the bottom as she took a more relaxed driving stance. “No one’s talked about Justin since he left—”
Harper sucked in his breath.
“If we’re blasting everyone, and saving Kali for last…” she continued.
“Hey,” I protested half-heartedly.
At least I now knew why they’d both come on this trip with me. To an extent, I owed them some conversation. I’d really not talked about Foley, and I knew I needed to start or that dick would be inside me forever.
I shuddered at the literal meaning of that last thought.
“My age has nothing to do with me spending time with Scott,” Aly added.
Scott ! We had a name—oh holy shit!
I jerked forward. “Scott Campinah ?”
“Exactly,” Harper confirmed.
“The Campinah fireman from the Campinah family who basically own Vernon?” I asked.
That was our neighbor town, and it was well-off. Unlike Friendly, which didn’t have a ton of businesses and was truly a dying small town, Vernon was not. It was a tourist town that was thriving, with six production warehouses there. They had a brand new hospital, a new high school, and their biggest debate was what color to paint the water tower. The fights on social media were nasty.
Vernon was privileged.
And North Campinah, along with his three sons and one daughter, owned or ran almost the entire town. The main drive had been renamed Scott Campinah Drive.
That Campinah, the one who volunteered at the county’s fire station because… No one really knew. He was also twenty-six. No wonder Aly was shitting bricks right now.
I grinned. “I bet he has staminaaaaa.”
Harper barked out a muffled laugh.
Aly flushed, her shoulders loosening up. “God, you guys. He’s ten years younger than me.”
I shrugged. “Love is love.”
“I know, but ten years? Everyone we know has kids. I feel like I’m fucking a kid. And his dad…” She sighed. “He’s a member of the Good Ole Boys Network, if you get my drift.”
That soured me. Right. Asshole . But still… “Fuck him being a kid. He’s twenty-six, and I bet you he had to volunteer against his dad’s wishes. You know his dad just wants him to work for him. That takes character. Say it straight. I bet he’s mature, isn’t he?”
“I just don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Hello?” Harper burst out. “Why are we not talking about the good part? How’s the sex? You two were thumping all night that night.”
Aly turned red all over again.
I shook my head. So far the road trip was quite entertaining.
Aly shot Harper a glare. “You just wait. We’ve given you time after Justin left, but it’s your turn to talk too, buddy.”
He eyed her. She eyed him right back, for as long as she could before needing to look back at the road. Then Harper rotated around, finding me. I sat back, finding Aly watching me in the rearview mirror.
Right.
This was a coming clean sort of road trip. I’d not signed on for that.
I remembered another reason why the three of us became friends. We’d bonded over the not-talking part of hard life situations. Aly getting it from a rich twenty-six year old, Harper’s breakup, and all the shitshow in my life—dammit.
Why weren’t we flying?
It wasn’t until we were driving through Sullivan, Missouri, that Harper broke.
“Justin wanted to marry me. That’s why we broke up!”
“What?!” Aly said. “That’s amazing.”
“For you maybe, Miss I Want To Marry a Millionaire Farmer and Instead I’m Boinking a Super Hot and Young Fireman Stud. Marriage isn’t for everyone, sweetie.”
I grunted, on his side.
No one should get married.
Ever.
We’d been switching off driving, and I took over in Oklahoma City. I could go another four hours before needing to stop.
Harper had sprawled in the back, needing nap time. He’d been the last to drive. Aly could handle four hours. Harper could do two. Not me. I enjoyed a good eight hours. I forgot how much I loved road trips.
Good thing we hadn’t flown.
I was overruled.
We stopped in Amarillo, Texas, for the night. Sixteen hours on the road, and everyone was tired… Or they should’ve been.
I wasn’t.
I was wired, and I didn’t know why.
The closer we got to California, the more tight I felt.
It was as if I was a wire, and both ends were being tightened, tightened, tightened. I wasn’t quite to the point of snapping, but I was close.
Aly found me in the hotel’s bar. I was ready for bed, head wrap and all except my pajamas were a normal legging and an oversized sweater. My sleep tank was underneath.
She slid into the chair across from me and eyed my drink.
“You know all about my bed-capades with Scott, and now we know we don’t need to hate Justin. Him wanting to marry Harper is a good thing. But hon?”
I bristled, hating and loving that hon part. I knew I wouldn’t want to hear what she was going to say. But I also knew she loved me, and that’s why she was going to say what she was going to say.
“It’s been three months, almost four. You don’t get on with your sister, but here we are—on a road trip going to get her. You gotta talk.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “You know you gotta talk.”
I didn’t want to talk.
That meant thinking about what he’d done to me, remembering it, being back there, and God, I didn’t want to go back there. Also, Shane’s question haunted me.
Why had I stayed? I didn’t know myself.
I shook my head. “I can’t. Not yet.”
She tapped my drink. “You are not a drinker, and you’re here after riding for sixteen hours, having a drink. Kali, that says everything.”
That wire tightened another notch, but I still didn’t snap. Not yet.
It was coming.