Almost Beautiful, page 17
“I’m okay,” she said with an appreciative grin. “This is exactly what I needed.”
I smiled back at her, for the first time feeling like we were on the same side. “Good. And,” I paused, making sure I meant it before speaking it aloud, “if you need someone to talk to after breaking the news to Trent, you can call me.”
“Really?” Camille said, her eyes glossing over again. She had friends, plenty more that she’d rather share this kind of thing with other than me, but I was sure the gesture was making her emotional more than anything.
I nodded. The moment she’d told me her secret, the suspicion I’d felt vanished. I knew she’d been hiding something. Now that she’d come clean, the feeling I couldn’t shake before was gone.
Not many people would understand what it was like to be loved by a Maddox boy. We had to stick together. I shoveled another piece of pancake into my mouth and smiled at my sister. We had a long life ahead of us. This was just the first day.
When we were done, I stepped out, looking up and shielding my eyes from the warm sun. Just as I took a step forward, I bumped into what felt like Travis.
“Oh! God, I’m so sorry!” I said, squinting to focus.
“Hey,” the man in front of me said. He flashed a grin that also reminded me of Travis, but something in his eyes damn near repelled me. That, and the fact that he’d left the house with the three top buttons of his Oxford shirt undone to show off his hideous gold chain. Coupled with all the gel in his hair, he looked like he came straight from Jersey Shore looking like the discount version of Pauly D.
“Excuse me,” I said, trying to side-step him.
“You’re Abby, right?”
I looked down at his outstretched hand, confused. “Abby Maddox, yes.”
He shoved his hands in his jean pockets. “I’m Travis’s boss, Brandon.”
“Oh,” I said, realizing too late the disdain in my voice.
He chuckled, looking down. Too soon, his eyes were right back on me. “I get it. I’ve earned the reputation I have. Owning a gym is kind of like working at Hooters. The better you flirt, the more money you make.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know anything about that.”
“Congratulations, by the way. Talk about a whirlwind. Travis is a lucky man. I remember when Becca told me she was knocked up. I was over the moon, and crazy in love with her. I don’t know, though, something changed along the way,” he said, shifting his feet. “She just never seems happy anymore. I kill myself at work trying to keep her comfortable, get her whatever she wants. I dunno, I do what I can, but I guess I’m just a dumb guy. Maybe you can give me some pointers.”
I crossed my arms across my middle. “Pregnancy isn’t something I’m familiar with, either.”
He laughed as if I’d said the funniest thing he’d heard all day.
“Well, Abby, it was very nice to meet you. Or should I call you Pidge?”
I shook my head emphatically. “That’s something only Travis calls me. I … wouldn’t.”
He smirked. “I wondered what kind of woman could’ve tamed the famous Travis Maddox.” He scanned me from head to toe. “Now I know.”
“Uh, nice to meet you, too,” I said, trying not to walk too fast to my car.
“I’ll walk you,” he said, jogging after me.
When we reached my door, he reached for my hand. “It was really nice to meet you.” Then, to my horror, he brought my hand to his lips and kissed it.
I pulled my hand away. “You mentioned that. Have a good day, Brandon.”
Chapter Nineteen
Karma
Travis
THE HEELS OF MY BOOTS were planted against the hot asphalt at the main intersection in our tiny college town. The hum of my Harley’s engine helped me relax. It was easy to forget while driving around town on my bike, even if my muscles were aching and exhausted from a full load of clients at Iron E.
Abby had been damn near euphoric since our date, but I couldn’t help but feel like something was off. Parker Hayes’s parents might have owned Biasetti’s, and it might have been the place Parker had taken Abby for their first date, but the second we sat down, Abby was the giggling, witty, sarcastic, natural beauty I’d taken to the pizza parlor on our first non-date. It was like we were just college students again; no bills to worry about, no federal agents sniffing around our apartment.
Even so, we knew we were lucky. Adam was waiting for a pre-preliminary hearing, knowing his freedom was temporary. I was taking my wife on dates and pretending like the worst problem we had was Abby and Camille getting along.
The light turned green, so I picked up my feet the same time I twisted the throttle, clicking through each gear like the speed limit was for everyone else. Another workday was behind me, and so was my sophomore year of college. I had more time to hang out at home with my new wife; no papers to write, no juggling time with her with my new job and homework.
Work … home … Pigeon. Sounded like Heaven to me—if I didn’t end up getting handcuffed and escorted out my front door by federal agents. That scenario was always in the back of my mind.
I tried to remember the summer after my freshman year of college, a lot of drinking and fucking—no worries about a life sentence locked away from Abby, or any worries at all. But looking back, it was one long waste of time. Not a single girl or night stood out.
Abby made every moment mean something. Realizing that I’d just met her eight months before made me have momentary freak outs that none of it was real.
We’d been through so much crazy shit in a small amount of time, and somehow ended up together and happy. Some days I felt like I was waiting for reality to kick me in the balls.
The gravel in Dad’s drive crunched under the wheels of the Harley, and I pushed down on the kickstand as the engine cut off.
Dad stepped out onto the porch, greeting me like he did every time I visited, but this time Trenton stood with him, holding his once-casted arm with his free hand.
“Well, hey there,” Dad said with a warm smile. His cheeks pushed up, narrowing his eyes. “Good to see you. Come in … come in.”
I patted Dad on the shoulder as I passed, and then nodded to Trenton.
“Hey, pussy,” I said.
Trenton just nodded.
I made my way down the short hall and turned into the living room, falling onto the couch.
It banged against the wall, but Dad didn’t mention it. He just sat in his recliner and pushed back, letting himself rock while he waited for me to tell him whatever was on my mind.
Trenton sat beside me—carefully—seeming more fragile than I’d ever seen him.
I frowned. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” he grunted. “I’ll live.”
“I’m serious. You look like shit. You’re moving even slower than you were.”
“Thanks, dick head,” he grumbled.
I looked to Dad. “Is it just me?”
“No, I’ve told him,” Dad said. “I was hoping you’d say something.”
Trenton leaned back and groaned, letting his head fall against the couch cushions. “Fine. I’m dragging ass. I just haven’t been feeling great. But on top of being a cripple, I’m not going to get sick. I refuse.”
“Don’t be a fuckin’ idiot, Trent. Ignoring it is going to make it worse. Especially when your body is already working hard to heal,” I said.
Dad and Trenton both stared at me.
“What the hell, Trav?” Trenton said. “You got married and turned into Dad.”
Dad’s belly bounced as he laughed, and I looked down, cracking a smile.
“Fuck you,” Trenton said, still staring up at the ceiling.
“Well? How’s the new job going?” Dad asked.
I sat back, trying to get comfortable on Dad’s worn couch. It was lumpy and had lost half its stuffing, but Mom had picked out that couch before I was born. Dad had to let her go, so he chose to hold on to things he had a choice in keeping.
“It’s okay. My boss is a dick, but I’ve learned to dodge him for the most part.” I glanced at Trenton. Sweat was beginning to form along his hairline. “Trent. Have you taken your pain pill today?”
He shrugged with his good shoulder. “Took one this morning.”
“Then what’s your deal?”
“I don’t know, man. I just don’t feel good. Quit bustin’ my balls.”
“How did you get here?” I asked. Camille’s car was totaled, so she’d been driving Trenton’s dilapidated Dodge Intrepid since she’d been cleared to drive.
“Dad picked me up in the truck.”
I glanced at Dad, who was watching Trenton with a concerned expression.
“He didn’t sound good on the phone,” Dad said.
“All right.” I stood up and held out my hand. “Gimme me your keys, Dad. We’re taking Trenton to Urgent Care.”
“What? Fuck no,” Trenton said.
“Get up,” I demanded.
“Trav,” Trenton said. He looked up at me, exhausted. “I can’t afford it.”
I watched him for a second, and then sighed. “I’ll cover it. You’re going.”
“No. I can’t ask you to do that,” Trenton said, looking worse by the second.
“Get up, Trenton, or I’ll toss your ass over my shoulder.”
Trenton glared at the carpet, cussing me under his breath, and then stood. He wobbled, and I slung his good arm around my neck, carrying his weight as we walked to Dad’s pickup.
I helped my big brother in, and then Dad. He tossed me the keys, and I walked around to the other side, making sure my bike was far enough out of the way.
I pulled my cell from my pocket and started to text my wife, but knew any way I explained would be alarming, so I decided to wait until we had some news to report. I slid in behind the wheel and stabbed the key in the ignition. Dad’s truck whined, and then silenced.
“Don’t pump the gas,” Trenton said. “You’ll flood the engine.”
I turned it again, listening to it crank without catching. I looked at Trenton. He was the one always working on Dad’s truck, but he’d been hurt and not feeling well, so there was no telling what was wrong. Dad’s old Chevy was a constant patch job.
Dad pointed to the ignition, rolling his finger in a circle. “Okay, turn it one more time, let it sit, then turn it again, pressing the gas pedal all the way to the floor.”
I did as he said, and when I pressed the gas to the floor, it cranked four times then caught. I pulled down the gear shift and backed out of the yard.
Trenton grunted when we bounced over the curb, and then again when I pulled away. The farther we drove, the worse he looked.
“Trav,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’m not feeling so hot. Pull over.”
I glanced over at him. His face was ashen, the sweat now beading and falling down his forehead.
“Fuck this, I’m taking you to the Emergency Room.”
Trenton said a few words that didn’t make sense, then passed out.
Dad held his head against his chest, staring ahead, clearly worried. “Travis,” Dad said. His voice was calm, but it was tinged with fear.
“Two minutes.”
Dad nodded, knowing I was driving as fast as I could.
We all bounced as I yanked the wheel and gunned the engine into the hospital entrance. The truck whined to a stop just inside the ambulance bay and I shoved the gear into park, running around to the passenger side. Dad was already stepping onto the cement.
I reached in, pulling Trenton out and lobbing him over my shoulder like he weighed nothing.
As soon as the sliding door sensed our presence and opened, the receptionist took one look at us and called for nurses. Three women in brightly colored scrubs rushed out of double automatic doors pushing a gurney.
I lowered Trenton onto his back, and the three women were already taking his vitals as they moved him toward the double doors again.
Dad looked at Trenton, and then at me.
“Go ahead, Dad. I’ll take care of it,” I said.
Dad nodded and followed his unconscious son. The doors closed, and I cleared my throat, looking at the receptionist. She seemed unfazed, using her mouse to click a few times before readying her hands to type.
“Name?” she asked.
“His name? Trenton Allen Maddox.”
She typed his name and nodded. “He’s in the system … fairly recently looks like.”
I nodded.
“Oh. He’s the one who …” Her voice trailed off, and she stopped before divulging any more information.
“Carried his girlfriend two miles with a broken arm and then set it without making a peep so he could be conscious when she woke up? Yeah, that’s him,” I said.
Her eyes widened and then she continued typing. Once she was finished, she turned to a woman behind her who was probably my age or even younger, a brunette with a pixie cut and hot pink scrubs.
“Ashley, take Mr. Maddox back to see his brother, please. They’re in two.”
Ashley stood, gesturing for me to meet her at the double doors.
We walked through triage, and then I followed her down the same white-washed hallway I’d walked down the night of Trenton’s accident.
“Your brother is pretty famous around here,” Ashley said. “People are still talking about him.” She stopped and gestured for me to enter Exam Room Two.
“Thank you,” I said, walking in. I brushed back the curtain to see Dad standing in the corner, watching the nurses just finishing up with an I.V.
Trenton was awake, but exhausted. “Hey,” he croaked.
I ran my hand over the stubble on top of my head and sighed. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Hi,” a woman in a white lab coat said, holding out her right hand. Her auburn curls framed her face, making her blue eyes look enormous.
“Travis, I’m his little brother,” I said, shaking her hand.
“Little brother …” she said, smiling at the tablet in her hand.
“I’m Dr. Walsh. He’s stable and came to pretty quickly. His heart rate isn’t where I’d like it to be, but I think with fluids we’ll get there. I’m going to get a few tests. Make sure we don’t need a neuro or cardiac consult.”
“What’s wrong with him?” I asked.
She smiled, a red curl falling from a loose bun on top of her head. She pushed her black-framed glasses up the bridge of her nose. “We’ll know more soon.”
“His accident was almost two months ago,” I said. “Does this have anything to do with that?”
She kept smiling, staring at me as if she were waiting for something.
“What?” I asked.
She tapped her tablet a few times, and then looked up at a screen on the wall. It brightened with the images of Trenton’s first and last X-Rays. Her nose wrinkled. “Those are pretty gnarly breaks, Mr. Maddox. It’s amazing you didn’t need surgery.”
“He wouldn’t leave his girlfriend’s room long enough to have surgery,” I said.
“Right, she was in the wreck, too. He carried her with that arm, didn’t he?” Dr. Walsh asked. She was still smiling, and the possibility as to why finally struck. The hospital staff were probably still romanticizing the story. We were a novelty to them.
“Yeah. Is he going to be okay?” I asked, annoyed.
Dr. Walsh reached down to touch my hand, and I frowned at her. She pulled me closer to the door, glanced over her shoulder at my dad and brother, and then leaned in, keeping her voice barely above a whisper. “My little sister goes to Eastern. You probably don’t remember her.”
My stomach knotted. Did I bag this doctor’s sister and she’s going to bring it up here? Now?
She smiled. “She liked this boy. She’s hopeless,” she said, shaking her head. “Once she falls for a guy, she follows him everywhere. She followed him to Keaton Hall the night of your last fight.”
I swallowed.
Her smile changed, and her eyes lost focus. “Once the fire broke out, he left her. He bolted. She wasn’t familiar with the building. There was a lot of smoke. She got turned around. She ran straight into you.” Dr. Walsh’s gaze met mine.
I grimaced, confused.
“Do you remember?” she asked. “She was terrified. She thought she was going to die. You pushed her toward the guy who ran the fights … Adam? You pushed her toward him because you knew he knew the way out, and you told him to help her. And you know what? He did. He helped her and sixteen more people to safety when all he wanted to do was run. It was just a few seconds, but you, Travis Mad Dog Maddox, saved my baby sister’s life.”
I glanced back at my dad. “I …”
“The cops and federal agents have already spoken to my sister.” The doctor’s smile returned. “She never saw you. Adam said you never showed. The sixteen students Adam saved said the same, and your brother’s hospital stay is on the house.”
She grabbed the handle on the door and opened it.
“W-what?” I asked, stunned.
“I can’t tell everyone what you did like you deserve, so I’m going to thank you in my own way.” She closed the door behind her, and I looked at Dad, trying to keep the tears from my eyes.
“Am I gonna die?” Trenton asked.
I chuckled and looked down, pulling my cell phone from my pocket to text Abby. “No, circle jerk. You’re gonna live.”
“Did she say what it is?” Dad asked.
“They won’t know until they do more tests, Dad, but he’ll be fine.”
I tapped out a short message to my wife, and then another to Camille. I cringed when I sent it, knowing they would both be blowing up my phone any second.
Trenton’s pillow crackled when he leaned back against it. He sighed dramatically. “I’m gonna die.”
A nurse pushed through the door, carrying a container with tape, gauze and other supplies. “Hi, I’m Lana. I’m going to be poking around on you for a second.” She checked Trenton’s wrist band, and then her small info sheet. “Can you tell me your name and date of birth?”
Just as Trenton began giving Lana his information, my phone buzzed. I held the receiver to my ear. “Hey, Pidge.”
“Is he all right?” Abby asked.
