Roustabout (The Traveling #3) (10 page)

“Were you having a moment with the zebra?” she smirked. “Because you might be in more trouble than I thought.”

“Sweet cheeks, I was born trouble and just got bigger.”

She grinned and sat down, stretching out her long, tan legs.

“So, what are you doing talking to a wooden zebra?” she asked. “It’s not like you to be introspective.”

“Intro—what?” I grinned at her. “Can’t even spell the word.”

“Hmm,” she said, arching one eyebrow. “Seems to me like you’re taking life too seriously. What blew up your ass?”

I gave her a shocked look.

“You think I’m being serious? Say it ain’t so!”

She laughed and pushed my shoulder.

“That’s more like the Tucker McCoy I know. I could use a repeat performance tonight. I get so sick of guys who want to talk to me when I just want to fuck. At least with you I know you won’t want a conversation. Thank God. See you after the late show.”

I opened my mouth to tell her I wouldn’t be around, but then she stood up and walked away, swinging her hips, her long black hair glossy in the morning sun.

I shrugged. Jade wouldn’t care one way or another. If I wasn’t around, she’d find some other guy.

Zef caught up with me in the RV as I tossed clothes into a bag and dragged an old quilt out from under the bed. I didn’t know where I’d be sleeping once I arrived in town. I’d bet a dozen quarters that the old motel was still in business, but I’d only stay there if I wanted to get bitten to death by bedbugs. I’d rather take my chances outdoors.

Zef leaned against the door, his arms folded as he watched me.

“This is your damn fault,” I grumbled, hunting down my toothbrush. “Being so chatty with a bunch of Butternuts.”

He cracked a smile.

“I’ve never been accused of being chatty before.”

It was true: while I made the ladies laugh all the way to the bedroom, Zef just did the brooding thing. Whatever works—we made a good team.

He continued watching me as I finished packing but didn’t say anything else until I was sitting on the Duke, everything I needed was stuffed into my backpack. The storage space was just about big enough to take a toothbrush. Yeah, I could have bought saddlebags, but you don’t buy a racehorse to pull a cart.

“Easy on the bends,” said Zef.

I nodded, raised my hand in a silent salute then pressed the starter button, loving the roar of the engine as I slowly released the throttle, bouncing over the uneven ground.

The roustabouts had finished erecting the Ferris wheel and carousel, and were working on the fast rides. I watched Carl shin up the framework of the rollercoaster and my mind spun back into the past, to the days when I first joined the carnival as one of the small army of itinerant workers who made up the laborers, the roustabouts.

The tents and kiosks along the midway were taking shape, the skeleton frames sharp against the clear blue sky, the faded canvases dressing the bones, like an old woman in her Sunday best. It was tricks and lies, all designed to part the rubes from their money, but it was honest, too. No one pretended it was anything more than a good time. Maybe that was why I fit in.

I paused by the grandstand, watching as Kes did a walk-through, checking the ground before he took the bikes over it. Aimee waved from the bleachers, Bo clinging to her shoulders.

Tera was standing next to her, arms folded across her chest, her face unreadable.

Ignoring the twist in my gut, I glanced into my mirrors, a glimpse of yellow dust that followed my tires. The air shimmered with summer heat and I had to squint through my sunglasses as sunlight bounced from the straggling lines of silver trucks and trailers.

Aimee was always going on about finding the magic here. I don’t know about that, but it never got old, not for me. The carnival was my home—the first one that ever meant anything to me. Twelve years ago I’d been a kid on the verge of manhood in Tennessee. If I’d ever really been a kid.

And now I was going back.

I was fucked.

Tera

I stood and watched as Tucker rode away. I knew he’d seen me but he didn’t show any sign, no acknowledgement. That stung. I thought we were at least good enough friends to . . .

No, I was lying to myself. Tucker and I weren’t friends. We’d hooked up; it was fun. And I thought we were going to meet again last night, but both my calls had been ignored.

I knew why now: Tucker’s mother had died.

I felt terrible that I hadn’t been able to say something, to comfort him in some way, but from what Aimee said, he’d preferred to crawl into a bottle of whiskey instead.

“Are you okay?” she asked, as we walked back to the RV together.

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”

She gave me a quick, penetrating look.

“I don’t know. You seem . . . distracted.”

“I was thinking about Tucker,” I admitted, hurrying on as she raised her eyebrows. “I mean, it’s terrible about his mother, isn’t it?”

Aimee nodded. “Yes, and he was so weird about it, making all these horrible jokes. I’ve never seen him like that before. It was as if he was trying to prove that he didn’t care. Kes has known him four years and he’s never heard Tucker mention his family,
ever
.” She looked sad. “And now this.”

“Do you think . . . do you think he’ll be okay by himself?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I used to think Tucker was shallow: just drinking, biking, and screwing around with skanks.”

Ouch.

Aimee didn’t notice that I was cringing. Probably just as well.

“But there’s more to Tucker, I know that now. But he wouldn’t even talk to Kes, and they’re closer than brothers. We don’t even know where he’s from in Tennessee.” She laughed without humor. “Until yesterday, I thought he was from Kentucky.” She shook her head sadly. “Poor Tucker. He’s obviously not close to his family, but this has to have hit him hard.”

I spent the rest of the day with Aimee and my brother, but my mind was on Tucker. I wanted to help him, but I had no clue how. I doubted he’d even want my help, but no one should be alone and dealing with something like this.

Tucker needed a friend, whether he knew it or not.

Tucker

Two days and nearly a thousand miles later, I slowed the Duke to a crawl as I hit the main drag through town. Boarded up shops looked gray and dingy against the sharp outline of the mountains behind. Sunny days were supposed to make things look better, although there are always exceptions. The town where I grew up being at the top of the list.

I was surprised to see a bunch of flags crisscrossing the street. They looked out of place, just painting the misery in brighter colors.

I had to stop when I saw a large crowd forming in front of the town hall and two police cruisers blocking off the whole area.

I found a spot at the side of the road and pulled over to take a look. I’d planned to rest up in town anyway, fixing to get some food and maybe see about a room.

I stood up stiffly, stretching to work the kinks out of my spine, thanking some good Italian engineering and my decision to get the comfort seat rather than the race seat for the Duke. Even still, a thousand miles on two wheels was no joke, but at least the slip resistant surface had stopped the twins—my balls—from sliding against the tank on the twists and turns or whenever I braked sharply.

I pulled off my helmet and gloves, running a hand through my damp hair. The heat was more intense now that I’d stopped, and not even the faintest breeze stirred the candy wrappers and scraps of paper lying in the gutter.

I frowned at the thick dust covering the Duke, the red wheel trim almost black and the white engine casing a hazy gray. I’d have to clean that. Daisy was too pretty to leave crusted in dirt.

I peeled off my jacket, relieved that I hadn’t worn my one-piece race leathers. In theory, they were more robust—safer—than pants and a jacket. I used the one-piece when I was performing, but not for a road trip. You come off of the road anywhere remote, and you could bleed to death while someone tries to get through the body armor and a quarter of an inch of leather.

A woman with a baby on her hip, gripped another child by the wrist, almost dragging her along the sidewalk. She slowed as she approached, and I could see the hunger in her eyes as she stared at the Duke. She might not know what kind of bike it was, but she knew enough to guess it would feed her family for a year.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked up at me, then her shoulders jerked back and her mouth went slack with surprise.

“Tucker? Tucker McCoy?”

I flipped through my memory, but nothing came to mind.

“You know me?”

Her teeth snapped together and she nodded once. “Mary Dunne. I was in the same year as Jackson and Jason.”

I shouldn’t have been surprised that I didn’t recognize her. She was only two years older than me, but looked ten. Women’s lives were hard around here.

Her kids stared at me with accusing eyes.

“Sure, I remember you,” I said, smiling. “You were on the cheer squad.”

It was hard to believe looking at her now, with the angry lines carved around her mouth and the permanent frown that hardened her once pretty face.

“Heard your momma died,” she said, not attempting to offer condolences.

I nodded my head at the crowd. “What’s going on?”

Her eyes had drifted back to the Duke and she twitched a shoulder.

“Big wigs. Politicians liking the sound of their own voices. Where you stay these days?”

A guy in a suit who was sweating worse than a whore in church tapped the microphone, drawing my attention. He’d tried to dress upscale, but his accent was pure East Tennessee. I’d let mine drift away as soon as I left. But Aimee said I still had an accent, which surprised me.

Feedback screeched through the mic and everyone winced. The guy flushed even redder then started babbling on about ‘honored guests’ and shit.

The bigwig was from the Senator’s office in Nashville. He kind of reminded me of the online photos I’d seen of Kes’s dad: sharp suit, sharp hair, white shark-like smile. He had a young blonde woman with him, probably some sort of assistant. She had the same glossy poise as Tera, the same air of being classy without trying.

I shook my head to clear it. Coming back here was really screwing with me—I needed to forget about Tera and focus on the clusterfuck that was sure to be heading my way.

After the short speeches, the crowd began to clear and the police cruisers reopened Main Street. I said goodbye to Mary and climbed back on the Duke, slowly heading toward where the old family-run motel had been. It was still there, but not quite the dump it used to be. I took a room, bargaining with the guy at the desk from $40 a night, the price he probably reserved for tourists, down to $35.

I dumped the leathers in a corner of the room, then tested the full-size bed, bouncing slightly on the well-used mattress.

Despite being ass-naked, sweat was trickling down my spine, the summer humidity sucking the life out of everything. I cranked up the AC, wincing as the unit rattled and wheezed, banging so loudly I was afraid it would shake itself apart.

The water in the shower was lukewarm, but I was so damn hot and sticky, I didn’t care. I
did
care that being alone with soapy water had me thinking all things Tera, but then I remembered why I was here and my dick deflated faster than a birthday balloon.

When I couldn’t put it off any longer, I climbed back on the Duke and rode out of town, turning off at the dusty path that led up the mountain and more than a decade into the past . . .

. . . Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.

That’s what my momma told me my entire life while I was growing up, which was pretty damn funny, considering I was hungry every single day. It was the kind of gnawing hunger that would shrink your belly so bad, it’d feel like it was trying to tie itself into a knot. I wouldn’t be surprised if the first word I learned was ‘food’, although it might have been ‘hungry’. I spent a decade fantasizing about eating. Momma seemed to think that filling us up on soda was enough. I’m surprised my teeth didn’t fall out, the gallons of Mountain Dew we used to drink. My stepdaddy told her that the bubbles took up more room so you didn’t need to eat as much. Maybe she believed it, maybe she just pretended to, but I can tell you for sure that it’s bullshit. Thank God medical and dental was covered through welfare.