Only Trick (40 page)

I tilt the rim of my hat and look at Grady reclined with his eyes closed. “What are you talking about?”

“I can read Trick better than anyone, honey. Your father must have done something unforgivable. Trick’s not a hair trigger. Everything he does has purpose and control, but maybe not with you. I’m beginning to think you bring out a Trick I haven’t seen before.”

With little consideration, I dismiss any idea of trying to deny Grady’s accusation, instead focusing on his interesting observation. “Is that a bad thing?”

“In Grady’s book it is. He’s been Trick’s mentor for said ‘purpose and control.’” Tamsen laughs.

“Shows what you know. I think Darby is exactly what Trick needs—a distraction.”

“A distraction?” I look over again at Grady, but he remains statuesque.

“At first I was pissed that he was leaving Chicago, but now I realize being here with you is the distraction from his past that he needs. An official letting go and starting over.”

“I’m not trying to be a distraction. What if one day he wakes up and remembers everything? There’s nothing predictable about memory loss from head injuries. Anything could trigger his memory.”

“Well let’s hope for your sake he doesn’t.”

I sit up, turning to face him. “Why? What will I learn that will change us?”

For the first time Grady rolls his head to the side, and peeks open one eye. “It’s hard to say, but what I do know is he was high most of the time and
reckless
.”

“Where did all the expensive stuff in his garage come from?”

Grady shrugs, aiming his face at the sun again. “Honey, you’re looking for the wrong answers.”

“What does that mean? What are the questions to the right answers?”

“There’s only one question.”

“Which is?”

“Which is … does it matter?”

“It matters if Trick could be in danger! What if he owes someone something? Is he supposed to go through the rest of his life looking over his shoulder?”

Grady moves his hand to my arm, eyes closed, lips smirked. “This much I can assure you. Trick’s past isn’t trying to catch up to him; it’s running away from him with the fear of God in its eyes.”

W
ho the fuck
is this?

I’ve tried to sketch Darby but my hand makes all the wrong lines and angles. It’s as if the shadows of this image in my head are fighting to come into the light. With each stroke of my hand, she reveals a little more of herself.

Who the fuck is this?

There’s an unexplainable driving force inside that can’t be held back. I need to get her out. I need to see her. She’s the answer to a thousand questions, yet I fear her. What if I bring her to life and she steps off this paper and takes mine away?

Who. The. Fuck. Is. This?

C
hristmas arrives early
in Todos Santos for Trick. His motorcycle has been delivered and I’m not sure, but I swear he gets tears in his eyes. Grady declares he’s riding bitch before Tamsen or I can slip a single word into the conversation. A quick peck on the lips and they’re off.

“You have the makings for margaritas?” Tamsen asks.

Blocking the sun with my hand above my eyes as I watch the guys ride off, I shake my head. “Sorry, I married an addict.”

“Well then, it looks like it’s time to introduce me to your neighbors.”

I raise a brow at Tamsen. “You think it’s a good idea to ask neighbors I barely know if they have ingredients for margaritas we can borrow?”

She loops her arm around mine, tugging me in the direction of Declan’s. “They were at your wedding; they’re practically family.” She giggles.

Thirty minutes later, we’re back home sipping margaritas on the veranda.

“I can’t believe you agreed to go out with Wes in exchange for drink ingredients.” I shake my head.

Tamsen shrugs. “It’s just breakfast, and Grady and I are leaving the next day anyway.” She takes another sip. “Mmm, and these are so good. It’s totally worth it.”

I nod in agreement. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What’s the connection between you, Grady, and Trick? I mean, Trick thinks of you as family and I know you got him into rehab, but surprisingly he’s never told me, and I’ve never asked how you three came to be so close.”

Tamsen flips up her glasses. “Really? You don’t know?”

I shake my head.

“I was part of the team that responded to the accident the night he was hit.”

“Oh…” I twist my glass by the stem “…so how did that lead to everything else? You were just doing your job. Doesn’t that end after you make the transfer to the hospital?”

Tamsen takes a drink then rubs her lips together with a slow nod. “Yes, it does, but that night was an exception.”

“How so?”

“Grady was driving the car that hit Trick.”

“What?” I set my glass down and sit up straight.

“Grady said Trick was like an animal running out into the street. There wasn’t enough time to stop. Alcohol, drugs … it was all in his system. It was also the dead of winter and he had on a T-shirt, pants unfastened, and bare feet.”

My forehead tightens. This is painful to hear. It doesn’t feel like she’s talking about my Trick.

“Grady knew it wasn’t his fault, but he still felt responsible in some way. He wanted to talk to Trick’s family and let them know what happened, but when he discovered there was no family, he couldn’t walk away and leave him. Grady had to know he was going to be okay.”

Tamsen stares down at her glass. “Grady is the one who took Trick home after he was released from the hospital. That’s when he discovered Trick’s world—the art, the drugs, the very expensive ‘stuff.’ I’m still not sure why, but he took it upon himself to make sure Trick got it together. I helped him into drug rehab while Grady was relentless with trying to piece together the mystery of Patrick Roth.” Tamsen laughs. “Grady knew Trick was officially ‘his’ when he brought him a slew of makeup and told Trick to make him look like a woman.”

I smile, remembering the Don and Donna incident.

“Deep down my brother has a heart of gold, but he’s always jumped at opportunities that are mutually beneficial.”

Tamsen sits up and turns toward me, resting her feet on the ground. “Truthfully, it was easy for both of us to want to help Trick. He was so lost and helpless, like a child. Beneath the addiction and questionable actions, he’s a good guy, and in some ways we’ve felt like the memory loss was his chance to start over. I know it sounds crazy, but I can’t help but wonder if it was fate that he and Grady’s paths crossed that night.”

*

The biker boys
return and Trick heads straight upstairs to draw. I’ve been spoiled having all of his attention, but now that his bike is here and he’s started drawing again, I’m going to have to learn to share. By six I check on him to see if he plans on joining us for dinner. What I don’t expect is for the door to the spare bedroom to be locked.

“Trick?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I come in?”

“Just a sec.”

Really?

“Whatcha need?” He smiles, opening the door, but just a crack.

I bob my head side to side to see past him. “What are you drawing?”

He scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip. “Well, I’ve been trying to draw you.”

“Me?” My eyes go wide to match my grin. “Let me see.” I step forward, but he blocks me.

“You can’t. Not until it’s done.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like people looking at my work before it’s finished.”

I never took Trick to be the self-conscious type. He’s as cocky as they come with everything else, but with the one thing he has every right to be cocky about he shows vulnerability.

“Am I naked in the picture?” I raise a single brow.

“Sleeping.”

“Oh … that’s … interesting.”

He nods.

“Well, we’re going to dinner. Are you ready?”

He grimaces. “Would you be too mad if I skipped out tonight? I’m at real critical point and I don’t want to lose my focus by leaving.”

I shrug. “Okay, I guess. You must be in the zone?”

He nods.

“Can we bring you back something?”

“Nah, I’ll grab a snack later.”

I feel my lips pulling into a frown, but I make a quick recovery so he doesn’t see my disappointment. “Well, I’ll see you later then.” I lean forward for a kiss just as he shuts the door … In. My. Face!

“Have a good time,” he hollers from the other side of the door.

It would appear as if the honeymoon is over.

“Trick’s not going,” I announce at the bottom of the stairs.

“Come on, we don’t need him. Besides I think it’s great that he’s engulfed in his art again.” Grady offers me his arm and I take it with a forced smile.

“What’s he working on?” Tamsen asks.

“Me.”

“He’s drawing you?” Grady gasps.

“That’s what he said.”

“God, this love-hate relationship I have with you just keeps getting more intense.”

I squint at Tamsen as we get in my car.

“Grady’s been trying to get Trick to sketch him for years … nude, I’m sure.” We laugh but Grady slumps into the backseat with a pouty face. “But Trick won’t do it.”

I pull out of the drive. “Don’t feel too bad, Grady. Trick’s not sketching me nude either. He’s sketching me sleeping.”

“Yeah, but probably in the nude,” Grady grumbles.

*

I’m sad to
see Grady and Tamsen leave. They’re starting to feel like my family as well. Yesterday, Tamsen kept to her promise and had brunch with Wes while Grady and I took an eco-tour of Todos Santos. Trick? Well, he’s been locked up in the guest bedroom, including sleeping in it. He insisted Tamsen and I have our girls’ slumber party—for two nights.

“Take care of our boy.” Grady hugs me and I feel like he’s my “big brother” too. “Wander up the coast and see me sometime. It’s a fantastic drive.”

“We will.”

Tamsen pulls me in for a hug. “Love you, sweetie. I’m sure you’re missing Trick, but our girl time the past couple days has been the absolute best.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Are you sure you don’t want to move down here with us?”