Royal Atlas Page 8

  “I have an idea.” I say into Guy’s ear. He doesn’t acknowledge me. It’s like he didn’t even hear a word I said.

  Mindlessly, I run my hand over his back where I noticed the scars the other day. I pick up my head to see Guy smiling and enjoying the moment.

  I rest my head on his other shoulder and give him a few moments before I repeat my words.

  “Yeah, what’s that?” He asks right away.

  My heart cracks with sadness and hurt seeps in quickly. He’s deaf in that ear just to prove another battle wound he has to cope with every day. It makes me wonder what else he’s hiding from me.

  “I think Royal Atlas should be yours.”

  “I know nothing about horses, Hop. Besides the fact that they eat and shit and you look sexy as fuck on the top of one.”

  I laugh loving hearing his compliment. It’s been a damn long time.

  “He will help you heal. You both need each other.”

  This time I let my lips linger on his neck enjoying that he doesn’t pull back from the touch. I’ve come to grips that this will take time and it’s time I’m willing to devote to him.

  “Like I said, I know nothing about horses.”

  “It takes patience.”

  He growls.

  “Trust me on this one.”

  He finally sets me down, letting the entire front of my body linger down his. I don’t let go of his neck keeping my front pressed to his. I’m shocked when he drops his face to mine letting his lips linger. I press into him, kissing him hard. Desire pools down low and even though I know he isn’t ready, I want him.

  Heat courses through my veins. I know for a fact neither of us are ready, but sometimes the heart and body want things the brain doesn’t.

  I step backwards into the barn. Guy lets his body willingly follow me. Once halfway through the barn, he picks up on my gesture never breaking our lips. He uses a free hand to open the door to his room. My legs go weak as his smell assaults me.

  He pulls back to stare down at me and passion lights up all of his features. Both of our hands race all over each other, tearing the wet clothes from our bodies. They end up in one big heap on the floor. His skin lights me on fire, heat curls down my spine, and I go dizzy when he drops his face to the crook of my neck.

  His beard tickles the sensitive part of my neck. I tilt it further to the side allowing him access. His dick strains up into my belly. It empowers me knowing he wants me as badly as I need him in this moment.

  Guy pushes me back until my legs hit the side of the mattress. We fall together among the rumpled bedding. I’m coated even more in his scent. His mouth crushes against mine once again. My hips eagerly jut up to meet his. The ache and burn deep down low in me is torturously painful.

  My mind reels back to the last time and the product of it. I’ve been on birth control ever since and haven’t been on any antibiotic that will hinder the effectiveness of it. I’m hungry for the skin on skin contact of being filled with him. I wind my arms up around his shoulders. One hand spreading over his tattoos and the other runs over the scars or at least that’s what my mind is visualizing.

  I vow to touch his scars every day until he finally comes back to me whole. I’ll never lose faith in this man. He’s my everything. Guy moves his mouth from my lips down to my chest. He takes a nipple in his mouth sucking it hard while rolling the other one with his fingers. My hands go to his hair tugging hard while still bucking up into him. Moans, gasps, and shudders take over my entire body.

  The friction from rolling my hips up into him creeps me closer and closer to the edge. When he switches to the next nipple, I explode seeing stars while yelling out his name. He moves quickly back up my body until the head of his hard dick is pushing against my entrance. My hips buck up into him as he glides into me.

  At first, it’s painful, but I keep rolling my hips until the sensation of falling over the edge is right back. My nails dig into his back while my teeth sink into my bottom lip.

  “I love you. God, I love you, Guy. Never leave me again, please.”

  He grunts while he swells even bigger inside me. Our hips grind together as he works in and out. I realize I whispered into his bad ear. I actually love being able to tell him everything and he won’t run away.

  “I want you forever.” I continue to whisper. “I need you back forever. Please, please forgive yourself. Come back to me, Guy.”

  My confession is interrupted by my own body. With one more deep thrust, Guy unleashes a tightly wound orgasm that takes over my entire body. Guy brings his head up to peer down at my face while I scream, shiver, and clutch to him.

  He follows right behind me. The sounds he makes sends shivers all over my skin. Without, any words he picks me up from the bed and heads into the shower. The water falls over both of our exhausted bodies. I keep my hands clutched to Guy’s shoulders as he washes me. I feel the pieces of his newly broken walls. The warmth from his soul begins to ignite me again.

  16

  Molly

  “I wonder when it’s appropriate to let a highway know it’s adopted.” -Amos

  Me: I have a surprise for you.

  Guy: Who is this?

  Me: Your worst nightmare.

  Guy: Oh, Little Hop.

  Me: (middle finger emoticon)

  Guy: Are you stalking me?

  Me: Always…show up at Cross Eyed Creek Bar at 8 PM.

  I tuck my phone in my pocket not wanting any refusal from him. We haven’t touched since two weeks ago when we got out of control. The feel of him on my skin still burns. I’m thankful he hasn’t shut me out. We talk and mainly flirt while working side-by-side in the barn.

  Guy’s even started working Royal Atlas. He hasn’t been knocked on his ass again by the horse. He’s figured out the way to him by using his patience. Guy’s exterior is slowly cracking day-by-day.

  He still leaves at night and returns some days with fresh ink. My so not favorite cashier at the local grocery store informed me a few days ago, that the word on the street is Guy has been engaging at an underground fight club. I mulled over the idea for a few minutes before rolling my eyes. Rumors in this small town fly like worn out assholes and seem to transform into larger lies.

  My palms are clammy thinking about what’s about to go down at Cross Eyed Creek tonight. It’s a local bar and they have open mic night once every two weeks. It’s become one of my favorite past times. The local band, Wild Honey, plays for me while I sing some of my favorite songs.

  I cringe remembering the times when I had sung the national anthem at sporting events in high school. I always sang it on horseback at local rodeos. Singing is something that was my momma’s passion, but she doesn’t sing anymore ever since Amos died. We use to catch her singing her favorite tunes while cooking, cleaning, or sipping on her sweet tea on the porch.

  I arrive at the bar early tonight and haven’t built up the nerves to check my phone. I give it a twenty percent chance that Guy actually shows up. I’ve been studying his patterns since he arrived home and it’s apparent he doesn’t like big crowds and avoids them. It’s the ranch and wherever he goes at night.

  “Molly?”

  I look over to Bud the drummer of Wild Honey and give him a nod.

  “I sure am.”

  “You ever going to let us talk you into joining us permanently?”

  “Naw.” I wave him off. “You know I just enjoy singing every once in a while.”

  Bud walks to the stage. I didn’t tell anyone about my plans tonight, but then again I really don’t have any friends to talk to between the ranch and my family. It’s been my downfall my entire life. I’ve always been plenty happy on the ranch surrounded by my family, but now that everything has changed it’s been lonely.

  I’m hoping tonight might break down the remaining few bricks of Guy’s armor. Settled at the bar, I order two shots of whiskey with no chaser. I’m going to need all the damn calming effects it has to provide in this moment. I down the two shots quickly.
The whiskey is hot going down and also rumbles around in my belly. My head soon relaxes with my nerves dulling. I hear a god-awful voice that always sends chills racing up my spine. Mae Robins.

  I order two more shots to douse out the memories of the hospital visit and the fact I still haven’t told Guy. I know that I need to, but there’s never been the right moment and this would only add more weight on him. The man is fighting to survive; he doesn’t need more.

  Soon my name is announced followed by a light round of applause. I don’t look up as I wind through the tables being careful to keep steady on my now rubbery legs. My head spins and all of the sudden I want to puke and I’m not sure if it’s because of the whiskey or my nerves.

  Bud extends his hand and I nervously place mine in his to jump up on the stage. A loud rumble sounds behind me and I turn to see him. Guy Webb. He’s pissed and clenching his fists at his sides. Bud drops my hand causing me to fall back into Guy. He catches me, bringing my back to his chest. I turn my head to look up to him.

  “Don’t fucking touch her again,” Guy growls.

  I turn in his arms and cup his face. I don’t miss the way he winces and looks around. I force him to peer down at me. “It’s okay. He was just helping me.”

  Without any words, he turns me right back around, grips my waist, and lifts me up on the stage. He never lets me go until my feet are firmly planted. Guy stands in place for a long time staring down the men. None of them even glance at me making it hard to go over the songs I want to sing.

  Guy finally backs up and takes a seat at a corner table. His face is shadowed in darkness. Only his fingers strumming the tabletop are visible in a slice of light. My own fingers tremble as they wrap around the base of the microphone. I know how to play this song on the guitar, but was smart enough to know my nerves wouldn’t allow it.

  The band fires up and I’m instantly in the zone. My hips sway for a beat before I begin to sing. The original singer of this song has a much raspier voice than mine, but I’m going for the message. I’m convinced that “Make You Smile” by Elle King was written for me. It’s exactly how I feel about Guy Webb and explains the extent I’ll go to just make him smile.

  My black skirt sways from side-to-side with my fringe leather vest. The next time I look up at Guy, he’s standing in the light with his hands dropped by his sides. His anger, along with the terrifying look on his face, has evaporated. His eyes light up when I sing about hating this town. Then when I go into the second chorus I pour everything into it, forcing my eyes shut.

  I’m handing him my heart and soul in public. It’s always been his, but now I’m delivering it as a wrapped gift for his acceptance. It’s the ultimate “ball is in your court” gesture.

  Tears threaten, but I push them back making sure my message is received. When the final word of the song streams out of my lungs it takes me a few moments to refill my oxygen levels. I’m shocked by the louder than usual applause. It takes me a few moments to take it all in.

  “This next one was my brother’s favorite,” I pause, really fighting to hold back the tears. “He made fun of me when I use to say Johnny Cash. My two front teeth had been missing for two long years when I was young and it always came out as Johnny Trash.”

  My comments gain a few laughs and aaahhh’s from the patrons of the bar. I choke down the lump in my throat, but have realized that Guy and I need to talk about Amos instead of hiding our pain. When I look over to him he’s shaking his head with a large grin across his face. He must remember how many times Amos would play this damn song.

  The band strikes up the few first chords of “Ring of Fire”. A little chuckle escapes me remembering all the times Amos would set up band in mom’s kitchen. He’d pass out the wooden spoons and beat on a pot. He always had to be the lead singer. I’m not sure I’d ever do Johnny Cash justice, but just the memories that flood back are totally worth it.

  I pat the top of my thigh while I sing the song and smile. A few couples take to the dance floor two-stepping to the song. I don’t give an introduction to the next song since it still has a Johnny Cash theme about it. I start in on the final song of mine for the evening and it’s just a simple punctuation mark to my whole stunt tonight.

  “Johnny and June” by Heidi Newfield, because that’s exactly what kind of love I have with Guy if we can just get to it. Again, I close my eyes when I sing the chorus pouring my soul out to Guy. I want his love so much it hurts. I know it’s still bottled deep-down in him, but hidden from the demons of war.

  On the final word of the song, I brush away the stray tear from my face with the back of my hand.

  “Molly.”

  It’s the voice. It’s his voice. The same one who took my virginity. I look down at Guy standing in front of the stage with his hand stretched out to me. I don’t even think about taking it. It’s a natural reaction to place mine in his. He owns me.

  He grips my hip with his other hand, pulling me down to him. I desperately want to wrap my legs around his middle, but the short black skirt doesn’t allow me to. My cowboy boots hit the wooden dance floor and I’m chest to chest with him.

  He cups my face and drops his to mine. His eyes are shiny, but no tears fall. The man rarely cries.

  “Thank you,” he whispers on my lips.

  “I love you, Guy.”

  “I love you, too, Molly.”

  That voice again. The way my name rolls off his lips in a loving and caressing tone. He melts me.

  The band begins playing a slow song by Garrett Hedlund. I expect Guy to pull me out of the bar away from the crowd. This isn’t his scene, instead he pulls me closer wrapping his strong arms around my waist. I remain frozen.

  “This is where you dance with the guy,” he winks down at me causing me to smile. “Wrap your arms around my neck.”

  I follow his instructions linking my fingers behind his neck. My cheek automatically lies on his strong chest. We both let the song sweep us away into each other. The shuffle of the bar disappears and it’s just the two of us. The band nails the song with the lead singer’s deep voice belting out each soulful word, but it’s Guy’s heartbeat I pay attention to.

  He dips his mouth down to my ear. I feel him lick his lips before he begins to whisper.

  “I wanted to be the man dancing with you at all the proms.”

  I smile against his shirt. His arms move from my waist to the back of my head. He winds his hand in my hair and tugs my face back to look up at him.

  “I want to be your everything.”

  This time we are both smiling before Guy lays the sweetest and most epic kiss on me. I hear a few gasps and catch Mae stomping away.

  “Show me where you go every night, Guy.”

  He nods his head, grabs my hand, and leads me out of the bar. He doesn’t acknowledge anyone or let go of me. I notice the way he scans the crowd as we leave. I’ve done research on PTSD and know Guy will always have to deal with it. I just hope we can reach a level of coping.

  I’d take tonight as a great first step considering he even showed up and is now letting me in on a piece of his new world. The night air is brisk, sending excitement coursing through me.

  “We’ll get your car in the morning.” Guy opens his truck door for me.

  I get in without asking a single question. I slide easily across the bench seat, but Guy grabs my thigh pulling me right next him. He smiles down at me then kisses me gently.

  “This is me trying, Molly.”

  I smile and whisper a thank you. Guy points out the tattoo parlor he frequents and explains how an old vet owns it. He feels safe there and at home. He struggles to explain the feelings he deals with on a daily basis, it’s sketchy at best, but I’m damn thankful. I grip his hand tighter with each word that flows from his mouth.

  “This is where I go every night.” Guy kills the engine of the truck.

  “Uh?” I ask, looking around.

  “I get new ink or some nights just come here.”

  “You come out
to the lake?”

  “I do.”

  “Why?” I ask not letting him go.

  “I’ll show you.” He pulls me from the truck.

  I follow him to the back of the truck. He slams down the rusty tailgate, grabs me by the waist and hoists me up on the bed of the truck. He follows suit sitting right next to me. Guy’s thick arm reaches behind us, pops open a cooler, and grabs two beers. He pops the top on both of them before passing me one.

  He links his phone to a Bluetooth speaker that begins playing country music. Guy gently begins to swing his legs back and forth while downing his first beer in three long swallows.

  “I feel close to him out here.” He grabs for another beer.

  I nod with emotion clogging my throat, so I try to rinse it away with the bitter taste of beer.

  “I don’t hear the sounds of gun fire or explosion out here. I don’t have to watch my back constantly. I feel a sliver of hope here.”

  I finally find the courage to speak. “I’m glad you have that.”

  Luke Bryan begins singing; “Tailgate Blues” and I decide to swing my legs along with Guy’s. He’s letting me. He’s finally given me back a piece of him.

  “After Amos was killed it was just a matter of time before everyone died.” He wipes his brow and drops his head. “He told me when I held him while he was dying to…”

  Choked back tears force Guy to quiet. I take one of his hands in mine and squeeze it tight. “Go ahead, Guy.”

  It’s long moments before he speaks again. “He told me to never stop loving you. He made me promise to come home and take care of our family.”

  Tears now linger down my cheeks and he’s left me speechless.

  “I’m fighting to do it, but can’t get my fucking head on right. Guilt consumes me every single second of the day.”

  I drop his hand hearing his knuckles hit the metal of the tailgate. I move to straddle his lap with my knees pressed down on the cold steel. Guy keeps his head dropped staring in his lap. One arm wraps around his neck while the other pets his sexy-ass beard.