Wild Horses (44 page)

“But I do,” she said, spinning toward him. “The more I talk about it, the less power it has over me, see? It’s like jumping a hard jump after having fallen—the more you do it, the less you think about falling.”

Attila’s eyes blurred as his hand found a chair. He fell into it, focused on his student and bent on ignoring everyone else. If she could do it, so could he. “Tell me what happened, Lindsey.”

And she did.

P
ARENTS
and friends appeared to take the other girls home. Soon, only Lindsey was left.

“We called your mother and let her know you are safe,” Tibor declared. “You don’t have to see her if you don’t want to, but I suggest you at least give her a call. This being said, where would you like to stay?”

Beseeching, green eyes looked around the room. “I’d like to stay with Hal in the hayloft. If you don’t mind.”

“Yeah. It’s a safe place, you know?” Hal chimed in. “It’s safe with the dogs downstairs and the horses all under you. You’re never alone.”

Attila swallowed hard. That was
his
safe place, and now he would have to relinquish it to help this admirable young woman sleep through the night. He nodded. “You have the spare keys to the house, too. Help yourself to anything you need.”

Tibor’s phone rang in his pocket. He looked at the caller ID and excused himself, taking the call in his office. He returned within minutes. “Rita wants to know why you’ve been ignoring her calls, Attila.”

Confused, Attila looked at Tibor. “But she never called me today.”

“She wanted to know if any of those properties panned out, then she got to see it on the evening news. She’s furious.” Tibor grinned. A furious Rita was a sight to behold, and now her wrath was directed at someone other than himself.

Attila frowned, patting his pocket. He stood, fishing around, removing his car keys and his wallet. “I… I seem to be missing my phone.”

K
AI
couldn’t see much in the deep darkness that always preceded the dawn of the day, but he could feel the moist and cool breeze against his skin, as the air currents began to reverse from the river. The wind had shifted again, the way it always had right before the squirrels began to chatter in the trees by the river. They were up first, even in the deep darkness of the morning, and their territorial warnings preceded the singing of the birds. Kai remembered all that from the times when he had slept right by the riverbank. The water stream felt alive to him even now, across the distance of two parking lots, a bike trail, and a generous green strip. The Allegheny was with him, her undulating body an invitation. Not yet too cold to bear, she would welcome him into her embrace.

He shivered. His thoughts were still distorted around the edges, but he now knew Attila’s truck was not where they had left it less than twenty-four hours ago. Attila had left him behind. It wasn’t the first time he’d been asked to leave. A familiar sadness settled upon his shoulders like a well-worn coat, but it was Attila’s warmth he yearned for. Another part of his fuzzy mind whispered a silent scream of caution, knowing Kai didn’t know how to swim. What was the point in swimming, though? Attila didn’t call. The cool wind cut through Kai’s T-shirt and chilled the tears that made their way down his cheeks.

“M
Y
PHONE
! But I need my phone… I was expecting someone to call. I assumed… I assumed he wouldn’t want to talk to me, but if he did call… well….” Attila’s eyes beseeched the police detective, who was still gathering interviews from all the witnesses.

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Tibor’s voice sounded humble by his side. “Surely, officer, it cannot be such a hardship to check the cruisers and see if Mr. Keleman’s cell phone is ringing in one of them?”

Detective Sergeant Whitney nodded. “All right, then. Let me give ’em a call.”

I
T
TOOK
half an hour before a patrol cruiser dropped off Attila’s iPhone. He thanked them and exhaled in relief when the unit activated. “Oh, no…,” Attila whispered, eyeing the record of the day’s communications.

“What is it? He didn’t call?” Tibor asked, his voice discreetly hushed.

“He did… eight times. He also left almost thirty text messages.”

I’m concerned and I’d like to talk.

Please talk to me.

I’m sorry. I’ve been an idiot.

Attila please, if you wanna dump me, at least let me know.

Just wanted to tell you that I love you.

I love you the way you are and I don’t care about your past.

Please forgive me.

Call me!!!

WHY WON’T YOU CALL ME???

I get it. You don’t want me ’cause I’ve been a slut. I’m sorry! That’s all over now.

There is nobody but you for me.

Please give me a chance—I can explain. I think.

If you don’t want me the way I am now, I can change, just please talk to me.

You never lied to me. I know that now.

Your ex says you hate being called a liar. I’m sorry.

I said some bad things—I take it all back. I don’t hate you—I could never hate you.

The shop is closing so I’m going to my old place. Theodork invited me to crash at his place but I said no. I just want to see you.

I’m sitting on my loading dock, hoping you’ll show up and I have something to cheer you up.

Where are you? Your truck is gone.

I hope you’re at home, comfortable. Call me in the morning.

Are you still in town? Was Lindsey found? Hal didn’t call either.

OK I get it, I’m expendable. Just, let me know you’re dumping me so I can make arrangements.

It’s getting fucking cold out here. I want your arms around me.

I wanna go home. Please?

Then there was the last message:

Attila, I just want you to know that I will love you no matter what.

Attila pressed the call button right away, but Kai didn’t pick up. He heard the automatic message and it took all he had to remain still and wait for the beep. “Kai, this is Attila. Stay where you are, honey. I’m coming to get you.”

“What? What is it?” Tibor pressed, alarmed at Attila’s ashen countenance.

“Kai… he’s been trying to reach me all night long. He seems to have gone to sleep on his loading dock on the back of the old Produce Terminal.” Attila looked Tibor straight in the eye. “Could I please borrow your car?”

H
E
COULD
see the last sip of soda in the bottom of his bottle now. More than a gallon later, it no longer felt refreshing, and Kai had only a vague recollection of his earlier rationale of caffeine being helpful while drugged. The Banana Company Building cast long shadows as dawn was born farther to the east. The little white flowers by his side still smelled of exotic jungle far away. They still seemed fresh as he checked their water level again. At least they would live.

Kai emptied his pockets, making a pile of his phone, his wallet, and his two empty soda bottles. He placed the nosegay of stephanotis inside the empty bottle, wedging the plastic water tube into its neck to keep it upright.

“I love you, Attila.” He meant to say that but the sound that came out of his mouth was unintelligible.

He lost him.

He lost everything. He stood on the loading dock and wavered—the river glistened through the crack in the canopy of the trees like the slick skin of a fresh-caught fish.

Attila loved his fish.

He felt like he might cry again, but decided to just suck it up. His legs had that woozy, off-balance feeling. Like he was still drugged, or like he had sat on them for too long. The river beckoned, her soft cradle a fitting resting place. Eyes focused on the glistening water surface. Part of him seemed determined to proceed, despite that thin, loud voice inside his head trying to alert him to the fact that his thinking wasn’t quite right just yet, and that he should just sit back down and wait out that nebulous, almost dizzy feeling that seemed to have taken over his actions. He wavered again and almost fell before he put one foot before the other and took a step.

M
ORNING
traffic thickened as Attila maneuvered Tibor’s car out of the parking garage. He made a left toward Duquesne Boulevard, determined to follow the ebb and flow of commuter vehicles all the way to the nearby Strip District. It would have been a lot faster on horseback, and he would have felt more comfortable steering Sen up the empty sidewalk, right under the Convention Center with the glistening river to their left. As things stood, he was stuck at yet another red light, staring ahead and hoping Kai would be there. He hoped against hope Kai would think to check his phone and listen to his voicemail, as well as read the text he typed with haste before he turned the engine on.

I would never leave you behind. I love you.

The words formed themselves, unchecked by his conscious faculties. He was too tired for censoring himself—too tired and too scared. At this point, Kai could be anywhere.

At Frankie’s.

With Theodore.

On a Greyhound, headed as far out of town as he could afford.

The traffic snaked its way under the glass-and-steel hull of the Convention Center and veered right, up a small incline. Attila switched lanes, getting in position for a left turn onto Smallman Street. The quick maneuver earned him an irritated honk, but his mind was on Kai Alewright and the way the other man tended to run when things got tough.

Attila thought back to the desperate crescendo of text messages he didn’t have the opportunity to retrieve on time. Their content told him more about his lover and partner than almost a summer of cohabitation. Kai’s history was colorful, certainly, but there was nothing bad enough that would shock Attila into abandoning him.

Kai had been a self-described slut. Attila could have said the same about himself.

Kai acted in the heat of anger. Attila had been known to do that.

Kai had an intense fear of rejection. So did Attila.

By Attila’s estimation, Kai was in survival mode by now, with a mindset that was ingrained and a matter of unconscious habit. Attila knew Kai had been asked to leave home; he had been, likewise, thrown out by his former boyfriend. Now he expected Attila to do the same, even though it was the furthest thing from the quiet horse-trainer’s mind. He wanted Kai by his side—he yearned to see his wild grin, to hear his bad puns, to taste his novice attempts at cooking. He wanted to sprawl under Kai, secure under his solid, hot body while being smothered with expressions of tenderness and love.

The light turned green and Attila cut off the oncoming traffic, sneaking a quick left turn up Smallman Street. Saint Stanislaw’s church still cast its long, jagged shadows onto the wide street and its already full parking strips. The commuter traffic was punctuated with produce trucks that were loaded before the sun was up and were now taking their cargo to local supermarkets and restaurants. He tuned out all those things for now, his mind focused on his goal. At the end of the old Produce Terminal he made another left, then another. He turned the corner of the back side of the long, narrow building where Kai used to sleep. The smelly Dumpster was just twenty feet away and the third door was rolled up, revealing the stacked produce crates inside.

Kai was sprawled on the parking area, right next to a deep, muddy puddle and only three feet before the heavy tires of a delivery truck. A woman stood on the loading dock, engaged in an agitated conversation with the driver. There was a cell phone in her hand.

Attila stopped the car and ran over. Kai looked the way he had weeks ago when he fell off Cayenne, except now he lay faceup and was covered in mud. Attila’s chest tightened as he dropped to his knees, ignoring the sharp stabs of debris through his black dress trousers. He reached his hand to Kai’s throat in search of pulse. “Kai. Kai, wake up… honey?”

“Hey, what are you doing to him?” The woman with the cell phone peered down at Attila. A pale ray of sunshine lit up her auburn hair.

“What happened to him?” Attila asked.

“He fell,” she said. “And who are you?”

“He’s with me,” Attila replied, deeming the details of their association to be private. “I’m Attila Keleman. Who are you?”

“I’m Sandy Kozlowski, and this is my store. I know Kai from before—he was gone for a while. I was surprised to see him back.” She sat on the edge of the loading dock, then jumped the rest of the way. She was shorter than Attila and wider, exuding a maternal air. “You say you’re ‘with him’. What do you mean by that, exactly?”

Attila exhaled, evaluating. She seemed more protective than threatening. “We’re partners. We got separated last night…. There’s been a miscommunication. I was involved in a police action, and my phone was accidentally left in a cruiser.”