Carter has been my best friend going on eight years now. He joined the circuit when he was twenty-two, fresh off his brother’s funeral and looking for somewhere to put all that grief. My dad took him in when no one else would. Gave him a spot, a purpose, a reason to keep getting up in the morning.
We hated each other at first. Or I hated him, anyway. This golden-haired charmer with his easy smile and his sad eyes, showing up in my space and making everyone like him without even trying. I thought he was soft. Thought he was just playing cowboy while the rest of us did the real work.
I was wrong. About all of it.
Carter rides like he’s got nothing to lose, because in his head, he already lost everything that mattered. His brother died in the ring, a freak accident, bad luck, the kind of thing that isn’t anyone’s fault but feels like everyone’s, and Carter stayed because leaving felt like letting him die twice. That’s not soft. That’s the hardest thing I’ve ever seen anyone do.
“So,” Carter says, turning down the radio. “You want to fill me in, or should I just keep picturing the worst?”
“Fuck if I know what happened.”
“Come on. You gotta give me something.”
“I mean it. I don’t remember most of it.” I lean my head back against the seat. “I recall the bar. Being smart about it, soda all night. And then it’s just… pieces.”
“Shit.” He whistles low. “That’s fucked up. You weren’t even that wasted when we left.”
“Oh, I saw you two ditching me.” I cut him a grin.
“Yeah.” He doesn’t even have the decency to look guilty. In fact, his grin widens. “We ended up with those two girls. Fucking stunning, both of them. Spent half the night at their hotel. Kai was—” He laughs, shaking his head. “Man, Kai was on fire.”
“I don’t need the details.”
“You absolutely need the details. These are important details.”
“Pass.”
He shrugs, still grinning like a cat that got the cream. He loves this shit—loves bragging about his conquests, loves knowing he scored while I apparently ended up in a haunted motel with no memory of how I got there.
“Last I saw you,” he continues, “you were getting real friendly with that dark-haired chick. The one with the creepy eyes.”
“Creepy?”
“Just… intense. Ice blue, almost white around the edges? She was all over you. Practically trying to climb into your lap.”
“Yeah, I recall her but not much after that.”
“Maybe she roofied you.”
The thought has occurred to me. “Maybe.”
“Or maybe you just finally learned how to let loose.”
“That’s not what happened.”
Carter shrugs, turning onto the main road that leads out of town. “Whatever you say.”
We drive in silence for a minute. The storefronts give way to open fields, fences running along the road, horses grazing in the distance. It’s beautiful out here. Quiet. Real.
“Apparently I got into it with a deputy last night,” I state.
Carter’s eyebrows shoot up. “Fuck yeah, you did. Fighting cops now? That’s a new level, even for you.”
“Sheriff showed up at Dad’s door this morning. Told him I was arrested, spent time in a holding cell, might be facing charges.”
“Holyshit.” He slaps the steering wheel, laughing. “Seth, you crazy bastard. Was he at least a big guy? Please tell me you didn’t beat up some five-foot-nothing rookie.”
“Hell if I remember. I’ve got flashes—someone on a sidewalk, a fight—but that’s it.” I rub my jaw, feeling the bruise. “Someone got me good, though.”
