28. Chapter 28
The moment I sat down on the patio, the dutiful Dee, as if triggered by my presence, brought out a mug of coffee and a plate of fried bread. I muttered a thank-you and opened my laptop. Sitting down to my computer for the first time in days felt odd. I was days removed from my job.
And a literal world away from it.
There was no email to check. No quippy articles to write.
I turned my attention to my manuscript. As a taskmaster, Summoner seemed to take a small amount of needling glee when I sent pages.
Other than that, he had yet to comment. He was a renowned wordsmith, and I was me.
The fact I was sending him anything I had written churned my insides into mush.
I was desperate for his feedback, yet hopeful he hadn’t read it.
Midafternoon, while I toiled over my keyboard writing about a knight fallen through time and his romance with an overworked office assistant, music notes floated down from the heavens.
Blinking, I realized the melody came from the open windows in the music studio.
Mouth agape, I listened to the masterful notes Summoner created.
I pictured his fingers on the strings creating gold.
Damn him for being able to enrapture me without being near me.
But of course, he was always able to do that, even when I didn’t know what I was feeling, or he didn’t know who I was.
Over the next few days, I settled into a groove. On the patio, in the fresh air, something about El Huerto del Sol made the words flow effortlessly. I loved it.
“Dee, you wouldn’t mind, would you?” Summoner’s voice carried from the kitchen and tingled my ears.
I had been writing for several hours. My coffee cup was drained, and my bread devoured. A chunky chicken had even visited me—it was a good day.
I looked up and watched Summoner’s scuffed sneakers move toward the patio. Lazy grin on his face, he sat across from me.
“Sweetheart.”
“Hey, you.”
“What are you up to?”
“Not much.” I shrugged. “You?”
“A little of this and a little of that.”
That was definitely true. Since we’d gotten here, Summoner dove headfirst into farm life.
He seemed to take an odd sense of pleasure out of tending to the fields and helping to care for the animals.
He knew every animal’s name. I suspected as much—as with music, working with his hands helped him feel grounded.
He had asked for me to join him, but I was not about that life.
Besides, I suspected we’d just end up fucking in the barn, and I wasn’t ready for that.
He brushed a bit of hay from his shoulder as Dee walked out of the kitchen with a shot glass.
“What is that?” My lips twisted.
“Gin. I need the kick for this stupid thing I’m about to do.” He knocked back the shot.
My eyebrow jumped up. “What stupid thing?”
He shook his shoulders as the alcohol went down. “Won’t you come with me and find out?”
Summoner stood and motioned for me to follow. In the parking lot near the trees, Summoner stopped in front of a wooden shed and turned to me.
“You mentioned Mark was showing you around and I wasn’t. I want to rectify that.” He pushed open the shed door, revealing a motorcycle.
I blinked. Even in the dusty light, the chrome and red paint gleamed.
“Wow. I know nothing about motorcycles, but it’s beautiful.”
“Thanks,” he chuckled. “A 1970 T120 Triumph Bonneville. Another one of those nostalgic things.”
“You had one before?”
“Yeah, before everything. Although it wasn’t as nice as this.”
“I don’t remember reading anything about you liking motorcycles.”
“Before fame.”
Ahhh…
The gangly young man growing up in a dark and dusty north English town. A version of Summoner he kept close to his chest and one I didn’t know much about.
“Were your parents okay with you riding a motorcycle?” I asked.
The holes in my knowledge about him begged to be filled.
“My mum thought it was the worst. I was going to destroy the pretty face she’d given birth to. My dad could have cared less.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. My platitude rolled off his back as he grabbed a helmet off a workbench and tossed it to me. I leaped forward and thankfully caught it by the strap.
“W-W-W-what?” I sputtered.
“I’m going to show you around. We’re heading into town.”
My eyes widened. “We are?”
“Yep. Going on a date.”
I squealed. I’d never been on a motorcycle before.
The idea of driving one on my own terrified me.
But the speed, the wind, and the danger were an appeal I understood.
Riding on the back seemed close enough to peril without a direct hand in it for me.
Summoner was in control of our fate, and I trusted him completely…
although some nerves bubbled under the surface.
Summoner grinned. His eyebrow quirked up and vanished under the rim of his helmet. Cheeks heated, I watched him climb onto the bike. I swallowed and straddled the bike behind him.
“You holding on?”
I scooted forward and grabbed him around the hips.
“I think so?” I said, not knowing what to expect.
The bike shot to life. I gasped. Summoner chuckled. He revved the engine once for good measure before easing us out of the shed. The bike’s tires crackled over the gravel.
“Hold on. I like going fast,” he said over his shoulder.
My fingers grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt for dear life as Summoner launched the bike down the driveway.
I gasped again, but the sound was lost under the weight of the sputtering engine.
Summoner cackled like a madman as he zipped down the gated drive and onto the main road.
Eyes squeezed shut, I pressed my cheek against the muscled ridges of his shoulder.
I was properly terrified. A melted blob attached to his back.
My heart pounded in tandem with the macho pulsing of the engine.
The clean scent of nature wafted into my nose. The calming effect was gradual, and I eventually could open my eyes. Both sides of the road were closed in by tall trees. Beyond that, the flatness of green fields decorated the countryside.
“…This is amazing,” I muttered.
Summoner chuckled. The sound vibrated in his chest and back. The further we drove, the more comfortable I became. Eventually, my hands drifted up from their death grip around his hips. I smiled as my hands explored the toned expanse of his wide chest and shoulders.
“Poppy!” he chastised playfully.
I couldn’t help myself. Riding on a razor’s edge on the other side of the world got me all excited.
Who would have guessed?
Our speed slowed as we reached the outer edge of town. A 30-minute drive we cut to 15. Summoner pulled into an open lot and parked the bike.
“There’s a market near here. I figured it would be a good place to start,” he said before pulling off his helmet.
“Sounds good.”
I took off my helmet and awkwardly slid off the back of the bike.
“God, you’re gorgeous.”
His eyes sparkled with a mischief that seemed younger than his years. Sheepish in the face of any compliment, I shrugged.
“It’s true.” He grabbed his glasses from his pocket and put them on in a bit of Clark Kent camouflage.
He led me from the parking lot and down the street.
The village was alive with noises, smells, and people.
Going from the relative privacy of El Huerto del Sol to the lively village square was a little overwhelming.
But exciting. They set up the square with booths of people selling their wares—handcrafts, flowers, clothes, food, and souvenirs.
My stomach gurgled as we passed a stall filled with fresh fruit and vegetables.
“You should sell the honey here. It would probably do well,” I noted.
Summoner grunted and kept charging forward.
His breakneck pace didn’t allow me to look at anything.
I had to speedwalk or risk losing him in the crowd.
In a foreign country, I was out of my depth, so I was willing to let him guide us, but he was taking advantage of his power.
Brow brunched in frustration, I scowled at his back.
Then, his shoulders hunched and his head stooped. Once I realized what I was watching, my scowl melted.
“Hey…” I whispered. He didn’t acknowledge me.
“Hey.” I repeated.
“Hey!” I grabbed his wrist.
Summoner turned to me with wide eyes. A fine sheen of sweat decorated his forehead. I swallowed.
“Are you…”
I couldn’t work the rest of the words out of my mouth because I knew he wasn’t okay. Spanish fizzled in my ears as people milled around us, in their own worlds. Mental health weighed us down once again.
“It will be okay. Everything will be okay,” I attempted to reassure him.
I grabbed his clammy hand and slowly led us out of the square.
The sounds of the bustling market faded away as we turned down an alley at the edge of the market.
Away from the mess of people, in the cool shadows of day, Summoner ripped his hand from mine and collapsed against the side of a building.
His chest heaved wildly as he slid down the bricks.
Eyes bugged. His fists bulged at his sides.
He was having a panic attack.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
My heart raced as I watched him struggle, helpless to do anything but stand by and watch.
My chin trembled. Tears welled in the corner of my eyes.
Rooted to the ground, I watched Summoner grapple with his despair in this dirty back alley.
My heart broke into a million pieces as the man I loved drowned.
I wanted to help him. To make this better.
You can’t help yourself, Poppy!
A sob escaped my throat. Thankfully, Summoner was lost to himself and didn’t hear my impending breakdown. Through the muck of my helplessness, with uncontrollably shaking hands, I fumbled for my phone and managed to dial Moore.
“Everything okay, Poppy?” he answered without saying hello.
“N-N-No,” I stammered.
“What’s wrong?”
“He’s…He’s having a panic attack.”
“Does he have his pills?” Moore asked without missing a beat.
I wrenched myself free from my fear and crouched beside Summoner. Gingerly, I placed a hand on his shoulder.
“… D-D-Do you have your pills?” I squeaked out, my tiny voice almost lost in the village’s ambient noise. Summoner shook his head. “He said no.”
Moore let out a string of expletives before asking, “Where are you?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know?!”
My mind spun. I didn’t know any Spanish. I couldn’t read a map or street signs.
Moore sighed again. “Take a breath Poppy. Give me the best description?”
“Right outside of the market at the village square. In a side alley, I think.”
“Thank you. I’ll be there in ten.”
I shoved my phone into my pocket and slid my hand down Summoner’s arm. I laced my fingers through his and gave him a squeeze.
“Moore’s on his way. Everything is going to be okay. Breathe. Everything will be okay.”
I wasn’t sure how much time we spent in the alley, but by the time Moore found us, Summoner’s breathing had slowed. Moore approached without any judgment or annoyance on his face. He simply shoved a couple of pills and a bottle of water at Summoner before helping him to his feet.
“Come on, Boss. Let’s get you home.” He patted his shoulder.
I blinked as we stepped out of the shadows of the alley and into the street. Moore had already collected the motorcycle and loaded it up onto the bed of the vineyard pickup. He helped Summoner into the cab and I went to follow, but paused and turned to him.
“How did you get here so fast?”
“I’m never far away, Poppy.” He winked.
Moore’s levity was very much needed after this aborted mess of a date.
I sat beside Summoner and pressed my forehead against the windowsill.
The truck started with a grunt, and I watched the village pass by.
It was silly, but I felt like a failure.
The one time Summoner actually needed me, I couldn’t help. I had no idea what to do.
As if knowing my internal struggle, Summoner’s hand closed around mine. I looked at him, slumped back, eyes squeezed shut, as he whispered, “I’m sorry, Poppy. I’m so sorry.”