Page 92 of From the Ashes
“You holding up, okay?” Mack asks.
“Yessir,” Walker says. “Just counting down the days until I can get back on a horse. Should be able to ride an old mare soon,” he says, sending a smirk my way.
Me. He’s talking about ridingme, and I recognize it as payback for the prancing comment I made a while ago. My snorted laugh catches Mack’s attention.
“I apologize,” he says in a heavy drawl. “Let me introduce you boys.”
“Oh, uh, it’s fine. Phoenix and I know each other.” Walker looks at me and I nod, encouraging him to continue. Since he’s the athlete they’re currently sponsoring, this has to be his show. He swallows and starts again, “In fact, there’s uh, something we’d like to discuss with you.”
“Sounds serious,” Mack says. “Let’s head to the RV where we can have a little more privacy.”
We nod and let him lead the way. Mack’s a big man with a very traditional, old, southern style. If you didn’t know he legitimately knew his shit about horses and leather, it might be easy to mistake him for a sleazy used car salesman from Georgia circa nineteen fifty. Complete with a white straw cowboy hat and bolo tie.
Walker and I follow along as he weaves through rows of high-end vehicles.This is obviously the sponsors’ lot.A minute later, Mack pulls open the door to a multi-million-dollar RV and I let out a whistle.
“Helluva place you got here, Mack,” I tell him.
His satisfied smile says the compliment was the right move. “You boys want a beer? Whiskey?”
“Sure, I’ll take a beer,” Walker says.
“Make it two,” I add. I can’t exactly shotgun it to make iteffective in time for Walker to drop this bomb, but it might help to have a little something to get a buzz started.
Mack hands the cans to us and Walker immediately passes his to me. Hemightbe able to pop the top on a can now, but I think it’s just habit to let me do it. Well, that, and he’s become accustomed to the princess treatment.
Mack must give him a concerned look as I’m focusing on the can because I hear Walker say, “Nothing to be worried about. Just want to give it as much time as I can before doing the things thathaveto be done.”
I tap my knuckles on Walker’s knee to give his now-open beer back to him. I’m mesmerized as he brings the mouth of the can to his lips and takes a swallow. I want to run my tongue along the seam of those lips and taste the beer on them.
“So, what did you two want to discuss?” Mack asks before taking a sip of his own drink...looks like he opted for the whiskey.
“Well, first,” Walker starts, “Phoenix is my new coach. I let Jonas Smith go when he joined Jackson White’s team for the remainder of this season.”
“And who could blame you? What kind of a coach abandons his injured rider for his rival?” Mack asks in an astonished voice. Walker and I don’t answer because the question is obviously rhetorical, even though I agree wholeheartedly. “How’d you get this guy to agree to coach?” he asks, looking at Walker, but pointing at me. “He hasn’t stepped foot inside an arena since he was injured. And trust me, I tried.”
I remember the calls, the texts, the voicemails, the letters via snail mail. The house call he made. The increase in sponsorship perks. Mack wanted mebadback then. He refused to accept that my life was on the line.
“That’s a little harder to explain,” Walker says. “Suffice it to say, Phoenix and I have history.”
Mackguffaws. “Well, whatever history has finally roped him back in, I’m thankful for it. You two working together is going to make Jackson White quake in his boots.”
“Look, for the sake of transparency, Mack…” Walker pauses and I hate the hesitation. It makes me think he’s not really ready for this, and I don’t want to rush him. He was right. Idothink he’ll resent me for this one day.
I’m about to call this whole confession off by interjecting something dumb and buying Walker time to make an exit, but before I can get my distraction ready, Walker reaches over and laces our fingers together, giving mine a squeeze. Mack follows the movement with his eyes and it makes me ready to ride into battle for Walker. If he’s taking this step, by God, he isn’t taking it alone. I sit up straighter, puff out my chest, and prepare for war as Walker calmly continues speaking.
“Phoenix and I are also in a relationship. We live together. We’re committed to each other and this sport. I love my job and I love having LXR as the biggest name across my back when I ride, but I love Phoenix more, and we’re done hiding. We come as a package deal, and I need to know that should LXR continue to sponsor me, Phoenix and I get to choose what we share with the public and what we don’t.”
Mack takes a long, slow sip of his whiskey. “How long you been holding on to that, kid?”
“Being gay? Ten years. Being in love with Phoenix? Eight.”
Mack seems to mull over Walker’s words before swinging his gaze to me. “He have something to do with that ride of yours?”
I don’t ask which ride. The only one that Mack would care about right now is the one that ended my career.
I glance at Walker who looks as eager for my answer as Mack.
I nod once. “Yessir.”
