The Boys Down South, page 31
When the swinging door closed behind me, I stopped and pulled out my phone again to look at the missed call. Debated calling him back. Knowing I wouldn’t do it. Then wondered who gave him this number and why they thought he should have it.
A text appeared as I was staring at it, fighting the urge to call him back.
“I miss you.”
That was all it said. Bray could text three words and my chest tightened. My eyes stung with unshed tears and I had to lean against the wall and get myself together. It hurt. Simply because I missed him too. But if I didn’t keep away, I’d be hurt much worse than this.
I stared at his words a few more seconds then put the phone away. Dwelling on this wasn’t helping me heal. I wanted to tell him I missed him too. But that would only make it harder.
The door behind me swung open, and I closed my eyes briefly, took another deep breath to calm myself, then straightened up before moving off the wall.
“Don’t mind me. Continue to lean against the wall. I’ll take my pretty face and get these tables ready. I like to be as annoying as I can,” Diesel said. Did he ever go away?
“I’ve got it,” I told him and grabbed the soap bucket. “Go do something else.”
I didn’t look at him. “Can’t. Ethel told me to come help you.”
Great. Just Freaking Great.
“I didn’t tell her your annoyance with my pretty face. So she doesn’t know she’s not helping you out.” He was trying not to laugh again.
I took the bucket and shoved it into his hands. “Fine. Clean the tables. I’ll get the flatware.”
“Yes ma’am!” he said, taking the bucket and not complaining when some sloshed over the edge onto his shirt. I should apologize for being so aggressive. But I didn’t. And I walked away feeling guilty about it. Damn his dimples.
24
bray
If I looked at my phone too often, they’d all notice. Nosey bastards. Since I couldn’t check to see if Scarlet had responded to my text, I took another bite of the pork chop Momma had fried for dinner. Asher and Dixie were having their first meal at the house as a married couple. Momma was asking them about their trip. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy for my brother. But damn, I was sick of listening to their wedding shit.
It never fucking ended. They’d gotten married. Could we move on with life now? Talk about anything else. Anything else. I glanced at Steel. He wasn’t talking much either and I imagined he felt like I did. Enough already with the happily ever after shit. Not all of us were blissfully happy.
“We still gonna paint the kitchen at your apartment this weekend?” Brent asked Asher.
Asher nodded. “Yeah. Dix hasn’t decided on the color yet though.”
“I have it narrowed down to three. I will know for sure by then.”
Asher chuckled and leaned over to kiss her. Jesus, we were eating. Give it a rest.
“You make pecan pie for dessert?” Steel suddenly asked, standing up from the table. He wanted to get away from this table possibly more than I did. Everyone’s eyes swung to him, but he acted like he didn’t notice and walked toward the counter.
“There’s peanut butter pie in the fridge too,” Momma told him. Normally, his getting up like that, while we were all still eating, would have gotten him a tongue lashing from her. But she knew. Like we all did. Steel was accepting this. He’d given his blessing even. Didn’t mean he stopped having feelings for Dixie.
“I’ll get me some too,” I said, standing up and leaving the table. Steel needed to get out. He didn’t need any damn pie. Whiskey and women. That would help.
“Don’t leave those dishes dirty in my sink,” Momma replied.
“Never do,” I drawled. As if I’d be that stupid. The woman had taught us to load our dishes in the dishwasher when we were old enough to stand in a chair and rinse the plate.
Momma made a humph sound but said nothing more. She knew I was right.
Coming up to stand beside Steel, I muttered under my breath, “let’s go drinking. Out of town.”
Steel cut his eyes at me. He studied me a moment while he made up his mind. Then finally he nodded. “Yeah. Let’s.”
“Hurry with the damn pie. I’m done with this family dinner shit,” I told him.
He smirked. “Not as much as I am.”
I’d give him that. He definitely had more reason to want out of this place. Hell, I wanted out for him. I hoped this wasn’t a regular thing. I’d rather go eat at Jack’s and pay for my meal than sit through this again.
Taking the moment away from the table, I took my phone out of my pocket and checked for a reply. Nothing. Damn, Scarlet. I’d had to fucking steal Dallas’s phone while he was working out in the barn yesterday to get this number.
He’d refused to give it to me. Little bastard.
Even after all that, it had done me no good. She wouldn’t answer my calls or my texts.
“You expecting a text? Thought you were in a snit about Scarlet leaving again. Didn’t think you’d move on that fast.”
“Fucking nosey,” I said, knowing the moment I checked my phone someone would notice. Did these people have nothing better to do than watch my every fucking move. “Eat your damn pie and let’s go.”
He smiled this time and took a piece of pecan and peanut butter pie then began to eat it, without going back to the table. He was stalling. Dallas was entertaining everyone with football practice stories. At least it was a more neutral topic. Not Asher and Dixie related.
“Y’all sit back down and eat that!” Momma called back to us, without looking to see us standing at the counter still.
“Shit,” I muttered.
“Damn,” Steel echoed.
We made our way back to the table slowly. Asher was watching us. Trying to figure out what was wrong. He was a smart man. One would think he’d have already figured it out.
“Hey, y’all been able to get on that mustang yet?” Dallas asked Brent and me.
I cut my eyes at him. I’d already warned him not to get on Satan.
“No. Damn animal is insane. Impossible!” Brent said with obvious frustration in his tone.
I didn’t say anything. No reason to tell them I could ride Satan just fine. They’d all fucking kill themselves trying. They’d never get on him. He was a moody son of a bitch.
“You still refusing to try?” Dallas asked me.
“No reason to get on an animal that wants to be wild,” I said then stuck some pie in my mouth so I wouldn’t have to say anything else.
“I don’t think he can be broken. Told Norton that but he grins like a fool and says the right person can ride him. He figures if Satan finds a kindred spirit then they’ll be able to ride. Damn horse is so mean it’ll take an asshole to ride ‘em if that’s the case.” Brent was amused by this as he said it.
“Then Bray should have no problem riding him!” Dallas said then laughed at his own joke.
I rolled my eyes then took my last bite of pie. “I’m heading out. Steel’s going with me,” I said as I stood up.
I waited for Momma to argue or to ask questions, but then I should have known she already knew. Glancing at her, she kept her lips in a tight line then gave me a warning look. As if to say “I know where you’re going. Don’t be stupid.”
With a small nod to let her know I understood her silent words, I took my plate and rinsed it, before putting it in the dishwasher. Steel was right behind me.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
“Fuck, I need it as much as you.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“Life,” I replied simply.
He shrugged and we finished cleaning up our dishes then said our goodbyes before heading out the door. Once we were at Steel’s truck, he sighed in relief. “God that was annoying.”
“Nothing whiskey can’t fix,” I told him
“How are we gonna get whiskey somewhere other than Jack’s?”
It was my turn to smirk. “Watch and learn, brother.”
Steel chuckled and shook his head. “Let’s stay out of jail at least.”
“I make no promises.”
25
scarlet
This used to be a time of peace for me. Cleaning up after closing. I would wash off tables, vacuum, sweep, mop and think about nothing. Just worked silently and alone. This week things had been different. I glared at the door to the kitchen where some awful loud music was playing. I didn’t even know what to call that. Diesel was banging around in there, sometimes singing even louder than the music. He was ruining my peace.
I had told Ethel I could do all this myself. She argued that I work too much and Diesel would give us all a break. If I heard what a “good boy” he was one more time, I was going to start screaming and throwing shit. Possibly that potato salad that was causing so much fuss with the older crowd. I imagined throwing a bowl of that in Diesel’s smiling face and it made me feel better. I liked that idea.
“You want some of this peanut butter pie? It’s amazing,” Diesel called out from the doorway. I glanced back to see him standing there with the pie plate in his hands and a fork.
“We serve slices of that pie to customers. Are you seriously eating out of the pie plate? We can’t serve that now.” Idiot, I wanted to add but didn’t. How stupid!
“Calm down, boss. Ethel told me to eat the rest. She said it’s two days old and she doesn’t serve it after two days.”
He had taken to calling me, boss, and I hated it. Just like I hated his dimples. Just like I hated his singing. And his always happy attitude. He had been in prison for Godsake! Shouldn’t he be angry at the world?
“Speak now or I’m finishing this up. It’s too damn good.”
As if I would eat from a plate he had been eating from. Not likely. Then I let the snarky out. “I’m sure after eating prison food that it doesn’t take much to make you happy.” I was tired. I wanted silence. He asked for it by talking to me.
He winced playfully then chuckled before taking another bite. “You’re a bitchy one, aren’t you? I’ve not made any more coffee, I’ve tried to get the trash out before you have to carry it out, and I even attempted to share my good fortune in food with you. But not one inch. You haven’t given one little inch. Tell me, Scarlet, what is it about me? You hate me, but you don’t even know me.”
This. He wanted to talk. Waste my time. Annoy me. Charm the customers. Make them laugh. Get big tips. His stupid name. Ugh. All of it.
“It’s the package,” I snapped then picked up the mop bucket to go get fresh water. I refused to mope with water once it started getting dirty.
“The package… ooookaaaay, and what does that mean exactly? What is the package?”
I stomped past him and into the kitchen. The loud music was better than his constant talking. I wouldn’t have to say anything in here. He couldn’t hear me if I did. I used to like this job. It was an escape. I worked hard. Exhausted myself then went home to sleep. Now, I had to deal with Diesel. He was ruining the already shitty life I had.
Dumping the water out the back door, I turned to fill it and the music cut off. Rolling my eyes, I didn’t look at him.
“I’d like for us to be friends. We work together. I’m trying to get past that icy wall you have built around you like a fortress. Help me.” His voice was lower than normal. It was as if he were trying to get a point across.
Frustrated, I cut off the water and lifted my gaze to meet his. “I don’t need friends.”
He frowned. “Yeah, you do.”
“No, I don’t. I have friends. I don’t want more.”
“You have a job you work at all the time. You leave to sleep then return. You can’t have any friends,” he argued.
“Why don’t you stop trying to figure out my life? That would be great. I’m not asking you about your prison time, or your stupid name. Do me a favor and stay out of my business.”
I took the mop bucket and headed back to the dining room, hoping I got my point across.
“Shane. He’s been my best friend since we were six. His girlfriend just had a baby. They need his income to live. So when he chose to sell weed for extra cash and I was pulled over while driving his car because mine was in the shop, the cops found the weed I didn’t know was in there. If I’d claimed it was his, he’d have been busted. They were after him already. He’d been selling to high school kids. I took the blame.” I had stopped walking and was listening because, although I hadn’t asked, the story was interesting.
“When I was eight, Pop told me to put gas in his truck while he paid for it. I didn’t want to tell him I didn’t know how. My dad was never home. I was here visiting Pop and El. Pop telling me to pump gas made me feel big. I didn’t want to let him down. I filled the tank, with diesel fuel. And he had to get it towed and drained.”
It took me a moment to realize I was smiling as I stared at the door in front of me, the one I hadn’t walked through yet. His name was a nickname. One he’d been given from a childhood mistake. Not because it was a cool prison name. I made myself stop smiling and I took a breath before turning back to look at him.
He shrugged. “Pop called me Diesel from that day on. Back home, I’m Charlie.”
Charlie. His name was Charlie. It fit him better. He was an ex-con, but he looked nothing like one. Maybe that was what annoyed me the most. I would be lying if his reason for going to prison wasn’t getting to me a little. My first thought was that went beyond friendship, but then I realized, I’d do the same for Dixie. I would think she was insane and needed to be slapped, but I would do the same thing.
“Charlie fits you better,” I finally said.
He nodded. “That’s what my mother says. She hates when they call me Diesel. But I like it. Reminds me of a time when life was simple.”
My childhood had never been simple. I didn’t respond.
“You don’t have to tell me why you hate me. But at least tell me why you never smile.”
I’d rather tell him why I had hated him. I wasn’t sure I did anymore. How could I hate a guy who did something so selfless for his best friend? “I don’t hate you,” I said then held my bucket up a little. “I need to finish mopping.”
He just smiled and shook his head.
I started to open the door then stopped. He had done nothing to me. I was taking my frustration and pain out on him. Being hard and difficult wasn’t fair. He was working just as hard as I was. Turning back to him, I smiled. “If there’s any pie left, I’d like a piece. I’m starving.”
His smile widened then he held out the pie plate. “It’s yours.”
I set the bucket down and walked over to take the plate. As my fingers touched the cool tin, I said, “Granted, you don’t have some nasty prison disease I should know about before I eat after you.”
He was still smiling when he replied, “Only the cooties. Got those in kindergarten from Jamie Quinn and haven’t been able to get rid of them.”
Hearing him say ‘the cooties’ made me laugh. Really laugh. It felt good.
26
bray
It was a moment of weakness. Lying my head back on the seat, I waited in my truck for Scarlet to leave her job at the restaurant. Dallas had written this address on the back of a receipt then taped it to my bedroom door three days ago. I had taken it and fisted it in my hand. Considered tossing it but knew I wouldn’t. Instead, I placed it in my bedside table drawer. Damned if that thing didn’t taunt me every damn day.
Now, here I was. Giving in. Waiting on her. The familiar white Camaro that I had parked beside was in the back of the building. When I’d driven up, the lights were off inside. But her car was here, so I waited. I didn’t expect her to be happy to see me. Considering she wouldn’t answer my text or calls, my showing up wasn’t going to thrill her.
Fuck if I cared. She was going to talk to me. This ignoring me shit wasn’t working for me. I missed her, dammit. When I wasn’t keeping busy, I was thinking about her. She was always there in my head. Sometimes, I swear I could smell her scent.
The back door opened and under the outside lighting, I could see her face. She was smiling. Laughing even. Confused, I sat up straighter and tried to figure out what she was so happy about when I saw him. A guy. Behind her. Walking out smiling like he was pleased with himself.
Who the fuck was he?
Jerking my truck door open, I stepped out and the sound caught their attention. Scarlet’s eyes locked with mine as I closed the door a little too firmly. Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned against the closed door and held her gaze. She was beautiful, even tired and dirty from waiting tables all day.
“Scarlet, you know him?” the guys asked cautiously.
She nodded then took one step in my direction.
“What are you doing?” she asked me.
“You ignored my text and calls,” was my simple reply. Not I missed you like fucking crazy and had to see you.
“So you came here?” she asked, sounding confused.
I gave her a nod. The guy was still there, standing behind her like he might need to protect her. Dick. He needed to fucking leave.
“I left, Bray.” Her statement would have made me smile if I wasn’t so damn tense from the guy standing too close to her. Almost touching her.
“Yeah, I was there. Saw you drive off,” I reminded her.
She shrugged this time, as if I should have just let her go and been done with it.
“I miss you, Scarlet.” There I said it.
She dropped her head in her hands. The guy then put his hands on her shoulders and that was it. No more. Shoving off the truck with my arm, I took several long strides until I was in front of her.
I didn’t want to acknowledge his existence, but his hands needed to move off her right the fuck now. Reaching out, I took one of her hands and pulled it gently from her face. She lifted her gaze to me, wide with surprise that I was so close now.
