09-05-2018, 05:20 PM
He didn't need the reminder. Jay was all too sharply aware of his location. He never thought he'd be back like this. Definitely not with company. They might as well slit open a vein and peer around at precious insides for display. It would have been the more tolerable option.
But, since the veins were split and all the precious red stuff coursing inside was shared for all to see, he might as well rub in the salt Natalie sprinkled on the wound. He laughed at her joke. A tired laugh, but it dispelled the choking cloud hung from the rafters.
"Maybe we can break in after hours and skinny dip." His smirk was far from honorable, but the playful curl of a brow softened the tone toward playfulness. The casino was the nicest place to go short of a drive back to Des Moines, which even then wasn't renown on luxury. Surprisingly, Jay had little experience with hotels, except that one trip to Iowa City that cemented his absolute rejection of college as a future. Though, to be honest, that had been a fun trip if not for the sickness twisting his guts from inside.
Sneaking through halls, breaking keypads, the drop of a towel and a splash later. That tiny sting of cold water before the temperature settled warmer invites. It sounded fantastic. Never going to happen. But it planted the seed for future daydreams at least. If on the off chance he was so lucky as to find himself up to his eyeballs in boredom someday in the future. As it stood, this might have to serve as the focus upon which to channel all the excruciating moments awaiting. Just in case he somehow found himself a guest in Amengual's care. Daydreams were going to become incredibly important, if so.
His self-imposed time limit lapsed. Jay let Casey and the other horses out to roam. He watched from the door for a minute after disconnecting the painful phone call from Pastor Mason, who agreed to help out for a few days. He was on his way out when the door to the tack room caught his eye.
He stopped and looked at it a minute before a wry grin took over. He flicked the brim of the black Stetson at Natalie when he emerged, but despite the cover, it did nothing to shield the frisky mischievousness from his expression. "Might as well look the part if I'm going to do this." He grinned as he strut by, upping the showmanship a bit.
Between mom and Cayli, the back of the SUV was packed with luggage. Damn vacations indeed. They weren't going to a 3rd world nation for fuck's sakes. He had to shove a few of the smaller ones under feet and wedged atop laps, but they all fit. Even the good $6,000 worth of guns went shoved into the spare-tire compartment. Just in case. Dad was a great shot, or so pre-basic-training Jay would have said. He was a pretty cocky shooter himself when he showed up for rifle-work. He was quickly set straight. But for all necessary purposes, dad could shoot an 8-point buck from a fair distance. He could spit out a few defensive rounds if he had to.
Jensen was a country boy as well, despite the slick hair and strut to his step. The pastor hid that streak, but it took one to know one, and Jay carefully watched the way the pastor looked at the weapons. He had the eye of one who knew what he was looking at. He'd be willing to bet that if he put a shotgun in the pastor's hands, he could hit the broad-side of a barn if necessary. At least not shoot himself in the foot. For that matter, mom was never really into shooting. Cayli got her first .22 rifle at twelve-years old. Jay absolutely hated that he missed that day. He'd been overseas at the time but heard all about it later. She could do it
That said, he locked down the house and gave the place a final sweep of the eye, like maybe he was fixing details into memory he'd never noticed before, then climbed into the driver's seat and they hit the road.
Trade Winds casino was a mirage in the desert that was corn fields. The highway banked on a curve, then suddenly, lush landscaping opened up before them. A tower taller than any building in 100 miles rose overhead. Hundreds of hotel room windows watched the patrons come and go. Wide parking lots that baked hotter than hell in the summer were half-empty. A few buses were parked along one edge, but these days, folks avoided the hefty gasoline bills that came along with mass-transportation and recreational vehicles. Travel just wasn't what it once was.
To that end, he parked the SUV close to an exit door and the group wandered inside. A tall lobby adorned in artwork reminiscent of abstract grasses, corn and native American motif greeted them. As did a bellhop whose uniform showed some wear. The guy looked about 19-years old, but he broke into a wide-smile when they entered. "Welcome back, Mr. Carpenter." Jay blinked in confusion a moment, until he realized the bellhop wasn't talking to him. He shot his dad a silent glare. You've got to be kidding me.
A breath, and Jay went on. He dropped his sole bag at his feet, tipped the Stetson slightly for the receptionist and went about the process of procuring a collection of rooms. The cheap ones. No suites. He wasn't made of cash.
His stomach rumbled when given the directions to the buffet, like the sound of the word finally roused a sleeping monster inside. He was abso-fucking-lutely starving, and he had every intention of snatching a shot of tequila on the way as well.
He offered everyone their room key cards - mom, dad, and Cayli would take a two-bed room. Jensen, Natalie and Jay each had individual rooms. He snatched dad by the elbow as they proceeded to the elevators. "Don't even think about what I know you're thinking about." Dad shook his head innocently as the elevators dinged.
But, since the veins were split and all the precious red stuff coursing inside was shared for all to see, he might as well rub in the salt Natalie sprinkled on the wound. He laughed at her joke. A tired laugh, but it dispelled the choking cloud hung from the rafters.
"Maybe we can break in after hours and skinny dip." His smirk was far from honorable, but the playful curl of a brow softened the tone toward playfulness. The casino was the nicest place to go short of a drive back to Des Moines, which even then wasn't renown on luxury. Surprisingly, Jay had little experience with hotels, except that one trip to Iowa City that cemented his absolute rejection of college as a future. Though, to be honest, that had been a fun trip if not for the sickness twisting his guts from inside.
Sneaking through halls, breaking keypads, the drop of a towel and a splash later. That tiny sting of cold water before the temperature settled warmer invites. It sounded fantastic. Never going to happen. But it planted the seed for future daydreams at least. If on the off chance he was so lucky as to find himself up to his eyeballs in boredom someday in the future. As it stood, this might have to serve as the focus upon which to channel all the excruciating moments awaiting. Just in case he somehow found himself a guest in Amengual's care. Daydreams were going to become incredibly important, if so.
His self-imposed time limit lapsed. Jay let Casey and the other horses out to roam. He watched from the door for a minute after disconnecting the painful phone call from Pastor Mason, who agreed to help out for a few days. He was on his way out when the door to the tack room caught his eye.
He stopped and looked at it a minute before a wry grin took over. He flicked the brim of the black Stetson at Natalie when he emerged, but despite the cover, it did nothing to shield the frisky mischievousness from his expression. "Might as well look the part if I'm going to do this." He grinned as he strut by, upping the showmanship a bit.
Between mom and Cayli, the back of the SUV was packed with luggage. Damn vacations indeed. They weren't going to a 3rd world nation for fuck's sakes. He had to shove a few of the smaller ones under feet and wedged atop laps, but they all fit. Even the good $6,000 worth of guns went shoved into the spare-tire compartment. Just in case. Dad was a great shot, or so pre-basic-training Jay would have said. He was a pretty cocky shooter himself when he showed up for rifle-work. He was quickly set straight. But for all necessary purposes, dad could shoot an 8-point buck from a fair distance. He could spit out a few defensive rounds if he had to.
Jensen was a country boy as well, despite the slick hair and strut to his step. The pastor hid that streak, but it took one to know one, and Jay carefully watched the way the pastor looked at the weapons. He had the eye of one who knew what he was looking at. He'd be willing to bet that if he put a shotgun in the pastor's hands, he could hit the broad-side of a barn if necessary. At least not shoot himself in the foot. For that matter, mom was never really into shooting. Cayli got her first .22 rifle at twelve-years old. Jay absolutely hated that he missed that day. He'd been overseas at the time but heard all about it later. She could do it
That said, he locked down the house and gave the place a final sweep of the eye, like maybe he was fixing details into memory he'd never noticed before, then climbed into the driver's seat and they hit the road.
Trade Winds casino was a mirage in the desert that was corn fields. The highway banked on a curve, then suddenly, lush landscaping opened up before them. A tower taller than any building in 100 miles rose overhead. Hundreds of hotel room windows watched the patrons come and go. Wide parking lots that baked hotter than hell in the summer were half-empty. A few buses were parked along one edge, but these days, folks avoided the hefty gasoline bills that came along with mass-transportation and recreational vehicles. Travel just wasn't what it once was.
To that end, he parked the SUV close to an exit door and the group wandered inside. A tall lobby adorned in artwork reminiscent of abstract grasses, corn and native American motif greeted them. As did a bellhop whose uniform showed some wear. The guy looked about 19-years old, but he broke into a wide-smile when they entered. "Welcome back, Mr. Carpenter." Jay blinked in confusion a moment, until he realized the bellhop wasn't talking to him. He shot his dad a silent glare. You've got to be kidding me.
A breath, and Jay went on. He dropped his sole bag at his feet, tipped the Stetson slightly for the receptionist and went about the process of procuring a collection of rooms. The cheap ones. No suites. He wasn't made of cash.
His stomach rumbled when given the directions to the buffet, like the sound of the word finally roused a sleeping monster inside. He was abso-fucking-lutely starving, and he had every intention of snatching a shot of tequila on the way as well.
He offered everyone their room key cards - mom, dad, and Cayli would take a two-bed room. Jensen, Natalie and Jay each had individual rooms. He snatched dad by the elbow as they proceeded to the elevators. "Don't even think about what I know you're thinking about." Dad shook his head innocently as the elevators dinged.
Only darkness shows you the light.