“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.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Who 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?
Chapter Thirty-Six
Christmas 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.”