Doll Face (Baby Doll #3) Page 17

  I hold my hand over my eyes, squinting at the person on the bike. “Hey, babe, did you finally get tired of playing with those clowns, and decided to be with a real man?”

  “Dirt?” I say, laughing, hope fluttering in my chest.

  “The one and only.” He lifts his goggles off his face and I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his bony little figure, almost pushing him and the bike over. I obviously scared the crap out of Dirt because after he gains his balance, he stands ramrod straight. I’m probably the only girl he has ever touched before. Releasing him, I step back.

  “Dirt, where is Adam?” I ask him. I’m so happy I can kiss this kid, but I don’t. However, I grip his shirt, refusing to let him go—he is the closest thing to finding Adam I have.

  “He is at Stone Man’s cliff. They sent me back to get the camera. If he climbs that beast every F-ing sponsor is going to want Nash.”

  “What? What do you mean Stone Man’s cliff? And what the hell is that?” I practically scream, shaking Dirt.

  “It’s this cliff that like only three guys have ever made it up. The others …” He dramatically runs a finger over his neck, sticking his tongue out to the side. “Yeah, he has been real messed up lately, not even riding and shit.” He narrows his eyes at me. Of course, he probably hates me, I hurt his brother, and the one thing I learned about these band of misfit boys is that they love each other fiercely.

  “You have to take me to him.”

  “I don’t know. He didn’t say it, but you are the reason he is going to attempt the climb.”

  “And that is why I have to stop him. I have to stop him before he does anything stupid and tell him …”

  “Tell him …” My heart his beating so hard now it threatens to pound right out of my chest. One word tumbling in my mind, one on repeat.

  “Tell him what?” Dirt asks, rubbing a smear of dirt across the bridge of his nose.

  “To tell him I love him. I love him, Dirt.” I shake him hard this time. What the hell doesn’t he understand? “I need to tell him I love him and I can’t live without him. And I was so fucking stupid to tell him good-bye.”

  “You know what?”

  “What?”

  “I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.”

  “Dirt!”

  “Get on, and hang on, baby, because I’m going to show you how a real man rides.” Dirt pulls his googles back over his eyes and kicks over the engine, which whines to life, sputtering. I climb on the back of the bike—no helmet, in shorts—and hang on as Dirt gasses the bike and we lurch forward. There is no place to put my feet so I end up placing them on top of Dirt’s. Dirt doesn’t offer much in the way of something to hold on to. He is rod thin and I think my boobs might swallow him whole, but I hang on, squeezing his small hips with my legs. He is my way to Adam. Dirt darts between trees, pushing the gas until the engine rattles under us, ready to come apart at any moment. He turns the bike, tilting us slightly, and just when I think we are going to wreck and die, he gives the bike more gas and pulls us out of it.

  It’s the most terrifying five minutes of my life. Dirt cuts of the engine when we come to a clearing. There has to be about fifty bikes out here; most of the guys I remember from the track, and even Karly is here. A group of riders are crowded around one bike, one guy. Adam.

  He is in full motorcycle gear. A dragon breathing fire climbs up his pant legs, which are tucked into knee-high motorcycle boots that are strapped up his leg. A black helmet sits under his arm. He has a thin plastic chest guard on that looks like it would do little in the ways of protection. Definitely not protect him from a three story fall from the looks of the cliff he is getting ready to climb. Just behind him on the other side of a gully is the cliff; a jagged rut climbs up the hill, deep ruts line the bottom where guys attempted to climb. There is a thinning line of pine trees at the top.

  “Is he freaking out of his mind?”

  “Hell yeah, that’s why he is the man.” Dirt pumps his fist in the air.

  I scramble off the bike and race toward him, calling out his name.

  “Adam.” I hear her calling my name, and at first, I think I’m imagining it, but then I see her pushing her way through the crowd toward me. I kick the kickstand out and set down my bike. The urge to go to her is almost overwhelming, but I just sit there, watching her battle her way to me and then she is in front of me, breathless. She’s wearing short shorts, her hair in a messy bun. I love her like this—raw and undone, not behind the mask of perfection she tries to wear.

  “Adam! You … can’t … climb … that … hill,” she says breathlessly. I don’t know what to say so I just look down at her. She was the one that said she wanted nothing to do with me, that we were not right for each other, so what the hell is she doing her now, looking sexy as hell, worried? She can’t have it both ways, she can’t mess with my mind anymore. I look past her at Dirt who has the camera out and is filming this whole thing; actually, right now everyone is watching us. Karly sneers at me on the back of Ritz’s four-wheeler, in a tiny yellow bikini top. It’s fitting that she is here to see how her the whole fucking thing is going to play out.

  “Adam?” Her voice quivers, and I look back down at her.

  “You rode here with Dirt?” I ask.

  She bites on her bottom lip and nods her head.

  “Shit, you have more balls than I do, riding with Dirt. He could have killed you.” I glance at Dirt, who is beaming from ear to ear. That is the closest he has ever been to a woman, so he is probably sporting a boner right now, the little perv. I’m going to have to kick his ass. “What are you doing here, Katie?” I ask.

  “I came here to stop you from attempting to kill yourself.” Her eyes glass over. “You can’t do it, Adam.”

  “I have to. You were right, I don’t deserve you. I will never be the guy you need. I will never go to college or put on a suit and have a regular nine-to-five job like you want. This is all I have.”

  “I was wrong! That isn’t what I want. I don’t want you to wear a suit or drive an expensive car. I want you for you, I want all of you. I don’t care, we can work it all out, but please don’t climb that cliff. Just the thought of you doing it’s giving me an anxiety attack.”

  “Katie—”

  “Don’t you get it?” She is shouting now, and her hair is coming out in frizzy little pieces that frame her face, her clothes are wrinkled. Nothing has ever looked more beautiful to me before than her, right now, coming undone and I can’t have her. Fuck, this hurts like fucking hell. Losing my mom sucked, but this, this is fucking torture. Being so close to her, being so near to everything I want and knowing that I can’t have her, not now, not like this,

  “I love you, asshole.” She stands there, her chest heaving. “I love you,” she repeats and damn if that doesn’t feel good to hear those words. It’s like my whole entire life I have been waiting to hear them, I have been waiting for her. She is everything I have ever needed. Everything that I ever wanted.

  “Okay, I just wanted to say that.” She turns and walks away. Fuck, my head and heart are torn in half right now, and I know what I have to do. I start my bike. The climb is easier than loving Katie. I push the bike up the ruts and past attempts at climbs. If Katie wasn’t here, I probably wouldn’t have made it. Not doing it’s not an option. I climb it and stop at the top of the cliff and look over across to the crowd that is going crazy on the other side. I look through them all and find her. Her green eyes lock on mine, begging me to come back. She was right, I’m no good for her, I cannot be what she needs; she needs so much more. Shit, my mind is so fucked up right now. I start my bike and go. I don’t stop riding. Darting through the trees, not knowing where I’m going, just me and my bike become one, and all the pain and thoughts of the last few days disappears as I push the bike as hard and far as I can go.

  He climbs the cliff, it’s both heart wrenching and exhilarating to watch. When he reaches the top, he holds up one hand in a sort of salute. I’m c
lapping and screaming and jumping up and down, excited and relieved that he did it and is in one piece. I even kiss Dirt right on the lips, who is fist pumping and screaming, “Fuck yeah!” into the air. The color drains from his face and he just stands there in shock. I leave him to go cheer with the rest of the crowd, who seem to be just excited for Adam as I am. I hug James.

  “I don’t know if he could have done it without you being here,” he remarks.

  “Of course, he could of. Have you ever seen anyone ride like Adam?”

  “No, I guess not. He has been unbearable these last few days, he was a complete pussy.”

  “Hey, that’s my boyfriend you are talking about.” I smile up at James. My boyfriend. I like the way that feels in my mouth, mine, he is mine, and I’m his.

  “He is not coming back,” James says to the ground.

  “What? He is. He has to.”

  “No.” James shakes his head. “He got a sponsor to race. Shit, it’s a small one, but it’s a start. They are flying him out in a few hours.”

  “But Dirt said—”

  “Nobody knew but me. If you go after him, Katie, you will fuck up his future. He will choose you if you make him, and then what? He stays here, gives up his dream.”

  “I … I didn’t know,” I say weakly. Of course, we would never work out. We are just two people on opposite roads who accidently crashed into each other.

  “Come on, I will take you home.”

  I look off in the distance, waiting for him to come back, but he isn’t. I squeeze my fists tightly, trying to remember to breathe.

  “He is not coming back, Katie.”

  I don’t want to believe him, but I know it’s the truth. I had something beautiful and I destroyed it, I took what we had and threw it away.

  I hug Kiki one more time, tears burning at the back of my throat. “You can stay, stay as long as you like. Hell, stay forever. Just don’t go.” Kiki squeezes me tighter. “Paul didn’t want me to say anything, but he has been shooting blanks, and my ovaries are not working right. You can be our practice baby until we adopt.”

  I laugh and pull away from Kiki, wiping at my eyes. “As tempting as that is, I have to go. I can’t stay here forever. Plus, you and Paul have your own life. You’ll get a puppy and be fine.”

  Kiki smiles. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. A puppy would be less work than you would be. Paul, baby, can we get a puppy?”

  “No, we can’t get a puppy, we both work. Thanks for planting the idea in his head, Katie.”

  “Anytime.” I hug Paul briefly and climb into my car.

  “This is why I want to be a housewife. Women in the fifties didn’t know how lucky they were. I was born in the wrong generation.” Kiki crosses his arms over his chiffon flower blouse.

  “Honey, I don’t think that is quite how it would work for you if you lived in the fifties.” Paul shakes his head.

  I climb into my car, turning the engine over, and wave good-bye to Kiki and Paul.

  Things are not perfect and it still hurts, but every day it’s getting a little easier to breathe without him. James was right, Adam never came back. He never called or came banging on the door. God knows I waited for him to. But that is not how life works; it’s messy and unpredictable no matter how you carefully plan it out. I don’t know what the future holds, but it’s mine to take. I wish that Adam was part of my future, but I’m glad he was part of my past. I turn down Main Street heading out of town to a new beginning.

  I redo my ponytail for what must be the tenth time, smoothing back every piece of hair. I set down the brush when it’s perfect. But perfect is far from what I am, even though I seem to be on the outside. On the inside I’m tiny pieces of thread, bare and frizzing, barely holding it together. They say that time heals the pain, but that is a lie people tell you. What they don’t say is that every day will be harder than the next, but you will make it, and when your head hits the pillow at the end of the day, you pray that the next day will be more bearable, that you will not see their face haunting you. You will beg for their face to be erased from your memory because each memory is a knife slicing deeper than the last cut. Or when your new lover makes love to you, it’s not their face you see or their name you are screaming in your mind. No, I will not lie, losing the love of your life does not get easier, but you will survive, and you will create a life that you can pretend to be happy in. Maybe in time, the pain will be less, but I’m not there yet. There will be a time that you no longer cry yourself to sleep because all the tears have dried up. It’s during these nights when I lay awake at night when his face is so vivid in my mind when every fiber of my being aches for him. When I pull out his shirt to sleep in just so I can keep the wound open just a little longer.

  On the outside, I have made it seem that I have moved on—my life is back on track with a few changes. After seeing Dad’s case through, I changed my major. I’m now pre-law at a local university. Mr. Basset gave me a part time job at his law firm answering the phones and helping him with paperwork. My father gets out of prison next year, and that will be a new adventure that I’m not sure which way it will lead the family. However, if Adam taught me anything, it is that plans change. My mother and father’s divorce was finalized a few months ago.

  I also have been dating Ryan, his nose healed, and last month we moved in together. Maybe it’s not fair to him that I’m in love with another person, but I will never stop loving Adam. Ryan is a good man, and even though he doesn’t say it, deep down he knows that I will always love Adam. I take one more look in the mirror and head out into my new living room. Ryan stands in the kitchen that is visible from where I stand, in a light blue fitted shirt, and navy blue pants, shuffling through the mail. He looks up and smiles, a smile that would make most girls melt inside, but mine is too frozen to liquefy. “Hey, babe, a letter came for you today.” I go into the kitchen and he automatically gravitates toward me, pulling me into his arms. “And bad news, there is nothing in here for dinner. Do you feel like Chinese tonight?” He pulls us against the counter, but I don’t answer. My heart has stopped beating, my breath caught in my throat. I’m staring down at a white envelope that is addressed to me. It’s his handwriting, I would know it anywhere. Cold sweat beads down my back. It has been 11 months, 29 days since the last time I saw him. Since he left me standing there on the other side of the cliffs, watching him drive away from me. It has taken me 11 months, 29 days to pretend that my life is back together. A life that did not include him, a life where I have to remind myself to breathe every breath, a life that I reassure myself that the pain will dull one day. The pain of losing him was unbearable, I can’t relive that over again, and I remind myself to breathe. I will throw the letter away. If I open it, it will rip the thin scars wide open again, and I don’t think I can pick up the pieces once they break again; this time they will remain shattered. I can’t do it. No, I will tear it up and try to forget it ever came.

  “Hon?” Ryan says, snapping me out of my daze. I look up into his face. Ryan, I almost forgot about him. He is not Adam, but he helps make the nights bearable. “Katie,” he puts a reassuring hand over mine, “are you okay?”

  “Yes.” My chest aches from the air that seeps back into my lungs. “Yes, I will be fine.” I give him a weak smile. He leans in and kisses me on the mouth. He is warm and fits perfectly into my plan for my new life. He is perfect, but he is not Adam, he will never be Adam. That was the risk of trying to move on.

  “Can we just do take out tonight?”

  “Sure, babe, whatever you want.” He kisses me again. “Are you sure you are okay? I can call out.”

  “I will be fine, go to work. Besides, I have a lot of homework I need to get done.”

  “If you’re sure. I have a lot of paperwork I can do, but if you need me, I will be home as soon as you call.”

  I watch out the window as Ryan pulls from the parking lot. When the headlights turn onto the main road, I race back to the counter to where the letter is. My heart drowns
out the T.V that Ryan left on. Picking up the letter, I press it to my heart. I can smell him on it. I picture him leaning over the paper, writing the earthshattering words in this letter. I know I should throw it away, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I can’t do this alone. Grabbing the phone, I call Kiki, who picks up after the first ring.

  “Tell me that sexy lawyer boyfriend of yours is playing bad lawyer.”

  “Is that even a thing?”

  “Is that even a thing?” he mimics. “Of course, it is. Please tell me you are not boring him to death with your straight people missionary position.”

  “Kiki.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “I got a letter today.”

  The phone goes silent. I’m afraid he might have hung up on me.

  “Kiki?”

  “I’m here. I just had to pick my heart up out of my ass. What does it say?”

  “I don’t know, I didn’t open it. What do I do?”

  “Okay, hold on, let me think for a minute. I’m going to need a drink for this. Good thing it’s nine in the morning, I have a strict rule no drinking before nine.”

  “Kiki. Why now? Why when things are bearable when I can actually sleep at night, why now?”

  “You only have two options, you open the letter and read it and make no rash decisions, or you burn it and go back to making boring love to you new boyfriend.”

  “I think I have to open it.” I swallow hard, holding the letter tight in my hands.

  “Now?”

  “Yes now, I have to do this, this can change everything, opening it.”

  “Okay, but remember whatever it says you are not going to make any rash decisions. Remember, he broke your heart … of course, that was after you tore out his beating heart with your bare hands and then—”

  “Kiki!”

  “All right, all right, open it already.”