Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Spine arched, I crane my neck, tracing the path of the rickety ladder leading up the side of Deadwood’s very first water tower.
“You’re kidding, right?” I say with an incredulous laugh. “Even if Noah was sober enough to climb that deathtrap without breaking his neck, he’d need a tetanus shot or a thousand stitches after slicing his hands open on the rusty metal. And that’s if the whole thing doesn’t collapse on us first.”
As if emphasizing my point, the rusted structure groans in the light summer breeze, the sound not unlike an ancient monster rising from a long slumber. I shiver as the disconcerting clangor echoes through the surrounding hillside and swaying branches.
“The top of the tower has the best view of the fireworks in all of Deadwood.” Ryker’s eyes drop to mine with a devious smirk. “The danger just makes it more fun.”
It’s the first time he’s acknowledged my existence after the awkward car ride over, and for some ungodly reason, his crooked grin has tiny wings taking flight inside my belly. I quickly stamp them out with a literal stomp of my boot.
“This isn’t funny. Noah’s in no state to climb that thing. ”
“You sure about that, Princess?” He inclines his head in the direction of the crumbling tower. “From where I’m standing, it looks like he’s already halfway to the top.”
My head whips toward the structure, but with nothing but the pale moon for light, I have to squint before I spot the human-shaped blur scampering up the ladder. Heart lodged in my throat, I take one step to follow his drunk ass, only to be yanked backward by my wrist.
“You do know you’re not his mother, right?” Ryker says against the crest of my ear.
I whirl around, my well-practiced death glare firmly in place. “I like to think I’m a hell of a lot better than our mother, but thanks for the lovely comparison.” I give him a sarcastic, squinty-eyed smile for good measure.
What an asshole. How dare he compare me to her.
Mouth pinched to the side, Ryker sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Sorry. Bad choice of words.”
“Whatever.” I yank my wrist out of his grip. “And just so we’re clear, it’s not wrong to look after the people you care about. You don’t see me giving you shit for protecting Charlotte.”
“Charlie’s nine . And even she knows to keep her thumb on the outside of her goddamn fist when she throws a punch.” He brushes past me, leaving a trail of rain-soaked pine and a hint of my honeysuckle body wash in his wake.
I sigh heavily and stomp after him. “I’m pretty sure Houston’s broken nose would disagree with your bleak assessment of my fighting skills. I know how to?—”
“Trust me, you don’t.” He grabs the base of the ladder, gesturing for me to go first with a jut of his chin.
Rolling my eyes, I slam into him on my way past and immediately wince. Perfect . With my shoulder still bruised from Beau and my hand sore from punching Houston, climbing this beast should be real fun. Face aimed skyward, I swallow audibly.
Should I even be doing this? Putting my life in danger definitely isn’t on my bucket list ? —
“Your shoulder is fine.” Ryker pushes me forward, like he can read my mind. “Your legs should be doing most of the work on the way up, anyway. Oh, and one more thing.” He waits until I glance back at him before continuing. “Try not to look down. Noah will kill me if you freak out halfway up and fall to your death.”
Too annoyed by his cocky grin to come up with a witty response, I scrunch my face into another mocking smile and grab the railing, trying not to think about how slippery the soles of my boots are on the metal rungs or the view I’m about to give Ryker of his lovely handiwork from earlier.
My ears heat. I’m more than happy to add that little lapse of judgment to my list of things I pretend never happened.
Annoyingly, it only takes a few steps up the ladder for me to realize Ryker might’ve known what he was talking about. Reaching over my head for the next rung is uncomfortable, but with my legs doing the majority of the heavy lifting, the bruise doesn’t hurt too bad, nor does it encumber my movements.
I hate that he was right, but I also hate that we’re here in the first place. Dad would lose his shit if he found out we were climbing this should-be-condemned monstrosity.
“I can’t believe this is where you brought us,” I mumble under my breath. “Should’ve just made Noah stay home with me.”
“Do you even hear yourself?” Ryker scoffs, breath ghosting across my calves as he cages in my legs. “ This is why I give you shit. You and Noah are so busy trying to protect one another that neither of you see how much you’re holding each other back.”
“That’s not true. Noah is?—”
A breeze rips through the hillside, the ladder swaying right alongside my rebuttal as I realize I was about to prove his point . My first instinct was to defend my brother, but shouldn’t I defend myself?
“Holy shit, Wills!” Noah calls down from overhead. “You’ve gotta see the view. Hurry up, this is insane!”
A smile creeps over my lips, and I shake my head, the humid air whipping my hair across my face as I climb higher .
“You don’t get it,” I say over my shoulder. “Noah and I didn’t grow up like other siblings?—”
“Because you had a shitty parent and almost died when you were a kid?” Ryker snorts. “Who the hell hasn’t? Trauma doesn’t make you special, Princess. It builds character and gives you a good sense of humor.”
My jaw drops. Jesus, that’s dark. It also might be the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.
An unexpected laugh bubbles out of me and, momentarily distracted, I miss my next step. My boot slips off the ladder and my stomach lurches as I go weightless… But before I get the chance to panic, Ryker catches my heel, narrowly avoiding a blow to the face as he places my foot back on the rung. Even once I have my footing, he runs his rough palm up the back of my thigh, holding me in place a second longer than necessary, like he needs to reassure himself I’m not going to fall.
There’s nothing overtly intimate about the touch, but I shiver all the same.
“I think I’m good now. Thanks.”
Ryker’s hand twitches before he removes it, finally freeing me to draw a full breath.
“You know,” I clear my throat, continuing the climb and trying to ignore the tingling sensation where his hand was, “what you said about trauma was pretty funny. I think you might be the first person to acknowledge what my mom did to me without batting an eye. Dad and Noah avoid the subject at all costs, like they think talking about it will break me into a million pieces.”
Ryker scoffs. “Yeah, well, closing your eyes won’t protect you from the monsters hiding under your bed. And pretending something didn’t happen just makes the wound fester, rotting you from the inside out. Kane’s a prime example of that.”
There’s a slight edge to his voice that wasn’t there a moment before, but what really gives me pause is how eerily similar his words are to Dad’s motto. Ignorance isn’t a shield, it’s a blindfold .
We’re almost to the top now, but instead of being excited, I find my pace slowing. Ryker and I have talked more in the past two days than the entire fourteen years we lived a stone’s throw away from one another. He’s different from what I remember, and while he still annoys me to high hell, I also find myself wanting to know more.
“What’s Kane doing back in town anyway?”
“Who the hell knows.” He pauses to guide my foot placement when he notices me struggling on a rusted out rung. “A few months ago, Kane had a falling out with that new-age bullshit church he was involved with in New Mexico,” he says once we’re past the unstable section of the ladder. “I hadn’t heard a single word from him until he called to warn me about Beau trying to get custody of Charlie. I thought if he was back in Deadwood, it meant he’d come to his senses, but?—”
A chill tiptoes up my spine. “But what?”
Before Ryker can answer, bootsteps pound on the metal grate above us.
“Will you guys hurry up?” Noah shouts. “The fireworks are starting!”
Reluctantly, I climb up the last few rungs and hoist myself over the railing, ignoring the burn of Ryker’s hand on my bare leg as he once again steadies me. As soon as I dust myself off, Noah slides an arm over my shoulder and turns me toward the rainbow of explosions lighting up the night sky in four different clusters.
“Holy shit. That’s incredible,” I breathe, awestruck by the sight before me.
Everything in Deadwood is in some stage of decay, but up here, seeing her lit up in bright pops of color, you can almost pretend she’s beautiful.
Ryker positions himself on Noah’s other side, his face cast in alternating bursts of red and yellow light as he leans forward to rest his elbows on the railing. “On a really clear night, you can see the fireworks three counties away. ”
“This is legit, man. Fuckin’ magical.” Noah squeezes my shoulder. “Way better than sitting at home on the porch, right, Wills?”
“Way better.” I laugh, still mesmerized by the white and gold flower-shaped explosions and the flash of green sparkles crackling like fairy dust in the night sky.
How can I ever watch fireworks any other way after this?
The display picks up in intensity, more fireworks going off all at once, both in our town and in the distance. The sound is deafening, and we’re so high up I feel the blasts of light in my stomach and lungs.
Out of the corner of my eye, Ryker’s head tilts in my direction, but I’m too in awe of the grand finale to risk missing a single second to figure out why. I want this view to be one of the last images I have of my town. For this to be how I remember Deadwood, not any of the other bullshit that’s haunted my steps for so long.