22. Huckslee

Huckslee

I t's crazy to think I've never been to a monster truck show before.

Gville, for as small as it is, has all kinds of crash derbies, rodeos, and ATV races. I don't know why I assumed watching the Big BIC–whatever would be like those events, but it's nowhere close. It's so much bigger. And louder.

And violent.

The crowd is feral for it, people going fucking crazy every time a pair of giant wheels crushes a car or a truck tips over. I don't get it.

The tricks are cool, don't get me wrong. Watching a vehicle that big drive in circles on only two of its wheels, plus doing jumps, takes a lot of skill, I'm sure. It's entertainment at its finest, which is why the show is completely sold out tonight for the final show. We were only able to get seats because Salem works for the arena and got us tickets.

But my eyes can't stay off Taylor .

Watching the way he and Christian are so perfectly synced in their performances is mesmerizing. But it's also downright terrifying because they spend more time out of their damn seats flinging their bikes around in the air than they do on them.

Seriously, at one point, Taylor hooked his ankles to his handlebars and threw his hands in the air while he backflipped. The fans went insane for that, shaking their ‘T.O.T ' signs around—which I snorted at—while they screamed at him to have their babies. Danger is sexy, apparently.

I'll admit, despite how much I fucking hate Taylor, even I spent half the show chewing on my nails, waiting for him or Christian to crash into a pile of dust and cease to exist. I don't want to compliment the asshole, but he's really skilled at what he does. It makes me wish I'd kept up on motocross instead of focusing on football when my heart isn't in it.

Logan shouts something at me, but it's too hard to hear with the engine and crowd noise, especially with my earmuffs, so I lean closer. Yes, I'm wearing the earmuffs because I have sensitive ears that are also shaped weirdly and can't do earplugs. So fuckin' what.

"It's time for their final performance," he repeats, grinning excitedly, and I can't help but grin back despite how upset I still am with him. We talked things out at lunch, for the most part, but the fact that he hid a relationship from me for two years will always hurt.

His reason for not wanting to send me over the deep end about it stung, but I understand that's what happens when you're an attempt survivor. Those you love will fear losing you, and the trust has to be rebuilt. And that's the thing about trust. It takes years to build, but only one minor lapse in judgment to blast it all to smithereens.

The lights in the entire arena suddenly cut out, followed by yelps of surprise from the crowd. Speakers crackle as the announcer comes on.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please put your hands together for the night's final act. Once again, let's hear it for the Twins Of Terror!"

Drums begin to beat as beams of flames shoot off, and when the lights come back on, a large mesh sphere has been placed in the middle of the pit. It's hollow and see-through, with a gate, like a…

Like a cage.

"They wouldn't." I gape in disbelief, watching Taylor and Christian ride onto the dirt, circling each other. Everyone in the stands has lost their damn minds, the screams are so loud.

Logan turns to me with his brows nearly in his hairline. "Is that…?"

"Yeah." Nodding grimly, I shout back, "That's a fucking Globe of Death."

I've seen this stunt once before when my parents took me to a circus in Las Vegas. I think I was seven then, and the Globe was bigger. Four motorcyclists were in that one, all crisscrossing each other as they raced around the Globe. Upside down, sideways, diagonal. And you know what happened? One of them fucking crashed. I don't know if he died or not, but I still remember the sounds the bike made as it bounced around the Globe while the other riders barely avoided being taken out, too .

My stomach feels like it's about to fall out of my ass when the two of them ride into the Globe while an attendant shuts the gate. They throw their hands out, amping up the crowd before giving each other a fist bump. And then the show starts.

More fire erupts as Taylor takes off first, sideways, circling his best friend in the middle. Then Christian rides in the opposite direction, looping around the top and bottom of the sphere while Taylor continues around the sides. They're narrowly missing each other, the timing so perfect that they're an inch away from slamming together. I feel my jaw fall open as I watch the spectacle, transfixed. Everyone else seems to be doing the same because the crowd has gone quiet as if we're all waiting on bated breath for something to go either very right or very wrong.

They swap directions, and I feel like I'm going to faint. Over and over, they pass each other for what feels like an eternity, changing up their path every few seconds until they're both on the sides of the Globe going in the same direction on opposite ends, and what do these motherfuckers do? As if tempting fate wasn't enough, they each release one hand from the handlebars and grab onto each other. Letting inertia take control, they hang on to the other's arm for dear life while spinning one-handed until I'm dizzy.

Finally, it ends. They right themselves on the bottom of the Globe, the crowd roaring when Christian pumps his fists and tackles Taylor to the ground. You can tell how excited they are at not dying, but the way Christian is lying on top of Taylor has my gut doing weird shit, so I turn away instead to look over at Logan.

And burst out laughing.

"You look like you're going to puke, dude," I shout at him, shoulders shaking at the greenish tint on his face.

He just shakes his head. "They're freaking crazy."

Yeah, I can agree with that.

The two exit the Globe on their bikes and ride to face the stands, where an attendant runs out with a microphone. They both take off their helmets, and as Taylor takes the microphone to speak, I find myself standing on my toes to get a better look at him.

Just to see if he's injured, of course. Not because I care but because I'm curious.

"Let me start by saying how much we love you guys." Taylor grins widely into the microphone, pushing dark hair out of his eyes. "I'm so sorry I was under the weather and couldn't be here last night, but let's give it to my fellow Twin of Terror, Totillo, for fucking killing it!"

The crowd erupts into cheers, but I feel a frown pull at my lips. He didn't seem sick when I saw him yesterday morning. Unless it was because…

Guilt has my chest tightening, but I shove it away. I have no reason to feel guilty. He deserved it.

Christian takes the mic and throws an arm over Taylor's shoulders, his long brown hair coming out of the tie to fall around his face. "We are so grateful to each and every one of you who's come out to support us over the last week. Y'all are why we get up every day and get on that bike, so thank you for real!"

More shouts and screams.

"Just as we did last year," Christian continues, "ten percent of the proceeds we've made this week are being donated to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, so from the bottom of our hearts, thank you."

My smile drops instantly, and a prickly feeling crawls under my skin as Christian hands Taylor the microphone.

"Just remember that you are loved, and you matter." Taylor presses two fingers to his lips before raising them up to the crowd. "Thank you, Utah! We can't wait to see you all next year!"

Hundreds of hands clap together, but my ears are ringing underneath the muffs. Everyone starts to move out of the stands, almost in slow motion. My feet are glued to the ground, stuck as waves of bodies push and shove by me. Pressing on me. Crushing me until I'm drowning.

I'm drowning, I'm drowning, I'm drowning–

"HUCKSLEE!"

Noise floods my senses as the earmuffs are lifted off, and I turn to blink rapidly at Logan. He stands beside me, gazing down into my eyes with a furrowed brow.

"Huh?"

His frown deepens. "I said we've got to get off the stands, man. People are waiting."

"Oh." Looking over his shoulder, I notice the line of angry eyes staring at me to move, and I mumble an apology as I make my way to the stairs. The dwindling crowd is still too much for my ears right now, so I yank my earmuffs out of Logan's hand and slide them back onto my head. Nausea slightly roils in my stomach.

"You alright?" Logan asks close enough to my face that I can hear, and I just nod as I continue toward the exit on legs that feel like jelly. Before I can get there, though, Logan pulls me toward a side door.

"Where are we going? Shows over, isn't it?"

"Yeah." He doesn't stop, just keeps tugging on me until we're inside a concrete stairwell. "But Salem said to find her once it ended."

Fucking great. That's the last thing I want to do right now, but because he's my ride, I follow him down two or three flights until we pop out into a long hallway. A few doors are lining it, but only one is thrown open with ample noise coming from within.

Logan leads me toward it, and we step into what looks like some sort of staff party. There are tables lined with liquor and food, couches spread out, and televisions mounted on the walls with various event photographs hanging between them. Some people are in black STAFF hoodies, some in dress suits, and some in racing gear, which I figure are the monster truck drivers.

Taylor's in here. I can feel it, but I force my eyes to stay ahead as Logan takes us over to where Salem is chatting with Christian and another driver. Her hoodie matches the other staff, red hair loose down her back. She turns as we approach, and I don't miss how her eyes narrow at me before she leans up to kiss Logan. Before I can decipher that look, though, Christian yanks me into a bear hug.

"Huckslee!" He smells like gasoline and sweat. My nose wrinkles as he pulls back with a crooked grin. "How you been, hermano ?! Haven't seen you in a minute. You've been looking good out there on the field, my guy. "

Awkwardly stepping out of his touch, I give him a perplexed look. "You watch my games?"

He jerks his chin, and I follow his gaze to see Taylor leaning against a far wall, engaged in conversation. "Baby boy never misses any. And if he does, he gets moody as fuck."

He...what?

Baby boy?

I don't really know how to respond to that because I'm pretty sure it's a lie, so instead, I turn to Salem, who's staring at me with that same narrowed gaze.

"We're having a staff party to celebrate the end of the rally run," she says, grabbing Logan's hand, "but you guys are free to stay as long as you want."

Logan leans down to kiss her on the forehead. "You sure? I don't want to get you into trouble."

"Perks of being my own boss, remember?" She winks at him with a grin, and I stay quiet as I watch them whisper in each other's ears. His hands are on her hips, and there's a softness to his expression that I haven't seen before.

Growing up, dating wasn't strictly allowed, so I've never seen Logan in a relationship before. His lips are curved into a coy smile, and Salem's gazing up at him with a twinkle in her gray eyes. They both look happily in love. It radiates off of them from the way they hold each other, as if magnetized.

Somewhere in the darkest pits of my mind, I wonder what the fuck Royce was talking about the night he told me that Taylor was in love with me. And mistakenly, that I was in love with him, too. We didn't look like that. No, more than half the time, we wanted to kill each other.

"Those are cute. "

Speak of the devil.

Taylor somehow crept up on me, appearing at my side with a smirk on his lips, his moto jacket tied at the waist with a shirt depicting Barbie dressed as a flag girl covering his torso.

Still with the weird fucking shirts.

Scowling at him, I try to ignore studying the tattoos that cover his arms. "What's cute?"

"The earmuffs," he laughs, and my cheeks heat as I reach up to yank them off.

"Forgot they were on."

He smiles, biting his lip in the annoying way he does, and my gaze lowers to study the bruises covering his neck. A sick feeling settles in my gut, something between horror and satisfaction at my marks on him. His throat flexes as he swallows, and my eyes snap back to his.

Tucking a dark strand behind his ear, he clears his throat. "Did you enjoy the show?"

There's a waver in his voice, almost like he's...nervous?

I cock a brow with a shrug. "Suicide prevention, huh? Bit hypocritical."

The minute it's out of my mouth, I hear how petty it sounds, but I can't help it. After the shit he put me through, hearing him say those words felt like a slap to the face.

Taylor's smile immediately disappears, leaving an odd, empty feeling in me when a flash of pain crosses his features. It tugs at my heart, but I don't give a fuck because he doesn't deserve sympathy.

"I'm trying to move on and do better, Huck," he says quietly, sad eyes holding my gaze. "That's all I can do. "

"Some of us don't have the luxury of moving on," I respond before returning to Logan. He's got an arm around Salem with a drink in his hand, laughing at something one of the truck drivers says.

Inwardly, I groan. Clearly, this means we're staying a while. And I'm not about to do it sober.

Making my way to the liquor table, I grab an empty solo cup and fix myself a drink, not even caring if it's for the staff only. There aren't many options, but I bartended for two summers in Cali and know what I like, so I make myself a Highball with whiskey and ginger ale before returning to my best friend, getting irritated when I spot Taylor leaning into Logan's other side, opposite Salem.

He's massaging his shoulder, staring at the ground with a frown, and something like possessiveness twists in my gut. Because Logan's my friend, not his. So why the fuck is he leaning against him like that?

Gulping down my drink, I glare as Salem reaches over Logan to grab Taylor's jaw, tilting it up. He gives her a smile, and she searches his face for several seconds before she turns those gray eyes toward me. I stiffen at the fire I see in them. Like she's pissed at me or something. So I jut my chin and stare her down because what the hell did I do?

Her lips tighten, but she returns to whatever conversation they're having with a man and woman in business suits. Taylor eventually joins in, resting his elbow on Logan's shoulder like they're pals. A pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind, and he looks down with a smile at a petite brunette wearing a lovely dress. He pulls her in for a hug and kisses the top of her head, all while his arm still touches Logan, and in this moment, I've never felt like more of an outsider.

Watching my best friend become a stranger.

Logan pre-Salem would have never cozied up to my enemy like that. But here he is, laughing at something Taylor says while they're practically hugging. When did they get so comfortable with each other? What is that about? Downing the rest of my first drink, I make myself another.

"Damn, man, what happened to your neck?" One of the monster truck drivers, a man looking to be in his forties with a grizzled beard, inspects the bruises on Taylor's throat, and I stiffen, waiting for him to throw me under the bus.

But Taylor just shrugs and flashes a coy smile. "Got a little too kinky in the bedroom, you know?"

The woman at his side laughs, eyeing him like a full meal, while the truck driver shakes his head.

"Well, throw out your safe word next time or something cuz that looks rough, buddy."

I feel eyes on me and slide my attention to Salem, who's watching me again. Awareness prickles my scalp, telling me she knows I'm the reason for Taylor's bruises, so I sip my drink while challenging her with my gaze to do something about it.

She just raises a hand to itch her eye with her middle finger, a clear ‘ fuck you ,' before grabbing Taylor by the shirt and hauling him away toward another group of people.

The minute they're gone, I pounce on Logan.

"This isn't weird to you, like at all?" I hiss in his ear, and he turns to me in surprise, looking for all the world like he forgot I was even here. Which pisses me off even more.

"What's weird? "

I throw a hand over in Taylor and Salem's general direction. "The fact that they used to fuck each other?"

His brows shoot up and he lifts a shoulder, sipping his drink. "Not really."

"Seriously?" Grabbing his shoulder, I spin him around, showing him how Taylor is now braiding Salem's hair. "He's all over her. He's all over you. That's not weird?"

Again, he shrugs, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "Honestly, Taylor's pretty affectionate when you get to know him."

A scoff leaves my lips, and I drop my hand from his arm like it burns. "So you know him, now?"

"Look, Huck." Logan sighs deeply, facing me. "He's not the same guy he was in high school, ok?"

"Yeah, well." I gulp down the rest of my drink, turning back to make a third. "Neither are you."

"Come on, man, don't do this here."

He follows me to the liquor table, and I scowl as I take his empty cup and mix up two drinks. "Do what, Logan? You're speaking nonsense. He literally outed you and Salem to my dad, just like he outed me to the entire school. He's clearly the same person."

"What he did to you was messed up, Huckslee." Logan takes his drink from me before putting a hand on my shoulder. "But he had his reasons for spilling the beans on me and Salem. He talked to her about it."

"He had reasons. Right."

"I'm serious. I was being an idiot anyway, keeping everything under wraps. It was time. "

I roll my eyes, swallowing down straight whiskey. "Whatever justifications you need to make, Loge."

He exhales out of his nose, raising his honeyed eyes toward the ceiling. "You should probably slow down on the drinking, Huck."

"You should probably mind your business."

"Ok, you know what?" He sets his drink on the table and turns away, heading back toward Salem. "You stand here and wallow. I'm going to have some fun."

So I do. I fucking stand here and seeth while I drain my drink and the rest of his, too, watching while he snuggles Salem from behind as Taylor constantly touches him.

Seriously, what's Taylor's issue? His arms seem to be always brushing Logan's, fingers grabbing my best friend's shoulder every once in a while. He's leaning in so close that his lips are practically on Logan's ear when he talks.

The more I drink, the angrier I get until he runs his fingers through Logan's hair, tugging it playfully, and I snap.

Seriously, I lose it.

Marching over there, I grab his arm and yank it away from Logan's head. "Keep your fucking hands to yourself, dude."

Everyone in the vicinity quiets down, and Taylor's eyes widen as he gapes at me.

"What the fuck is your problem?" He snaps, going to pull his arm from my grip, but I tighten my hold.

"My problem is you. Stop touching him!"

"Huckslee, stop," Logan warns as Taylor gets in my face with a sneer.

"What, I'm not allowed to touch Logan?"

"No, because he's not your friend. "

I can tell how childish that sounds, but I'm far beyond tipsy now. Eyes are on us all over the room, and warning bells are going off in my brain, but when it comes to Taylor, I just can't stop.

"My best friend is dating your best friend," Taylor scoffs, rearing back. "Pretty sure that makes him my friend, too."

Somewhere nearby, Christian's head pops up over the crowd. "Logan, we're dating?"

Salem steps up, trying to put herself between us. "Huck, I think you need to leave. You're drunk."

"Me?!" Snarling, I pull Taylor closer and away from Logan." He's the one with his hands all over your boyfriend!"

"You don't own him, asshole." Taylor tries to escape my hold on his arm again, but I'm not letting go. So he grabs Logan's wrist and holds it up, shaking his hand around. "What, does this piss you off?"

"Let go," I growl, seeing red when he threads his fingers through Logan's, holding his hand.

"How 'bout this? This not ok?"

Salem whips around, glaring at him. "Taylor quit it."

But Taylor isn't done. I feel my grip tighten around him with bruising force as he reaches up to grab Logan's jaw.

"You know what I think will really make you mad, though? This ."

He yanks Logan's face down to his and plants a kiss square on my best friend's lips.

For a moment, I'm stunned. Shook.

There are multiple gasps throughout the room, and Salem is even gaping with her jaw on the floor. The two of them part with a smack that leaves Logan looking dazed, and Taylor smirks as he looks up at me from under his lashes, lips wet from Logan's spit.

Before I can even comprehend what I'm doing or think about the repercussions of my actions, my fist slams into Taylor's jaw, knocking him out cold.

An arm snakes around my throat, pulling me backwards, the smell of sweat and gasoline filling my nostrils as Christian puts me into a headlock.

"You crossed a line, motherfucker," he hisses in my ear before pressing a thumb into the pressure point beneath my chin. Pain erupts throughout my body, muscles spasming.

And then it all goes black.