The Junkyard Boys, page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Epilogue
About The Author
COPYRIGHT
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976.
Copyright © 2016 by SH Richardson
First Edition: 2016
Formatting: CP Smith Affordable Formatting
Editing: Julia Goda Editing Services
Cover By: Sweet Lush Photography & Design, Dollar Photo Club.
DEDICATION
To my two beautiful children, “Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss it, you will land among the stars.” To my wonderful husband for always being there for me…I adore you.
CHAPTER 1
Range
Collection day was my favorite day of the month. Most people favored weekends or holidays, but not me. No way, baby. Give me collection day any day. I gave myself a once-over in the mirror, noticing my shirt was clean and pressed to perfection along with my jeans. This ritual of never leaving the house without clean and pressed clothing was unfortunately a reflection of my poor childhood and upbringing. The only time you’d catch me unkempt was when I was working in the junkyard. During working hours, it was almost impossible not to get filthy; but as soon as my workday was over, I took a beeline straight to the shower and clean clothes. This of course, was usually met with a lot of grief from my friends, who constantly called me a “primping bitch” and gave me shit about my grooming needs. I never let this worry me since I knew it was just their way of poking fun and not meant to be hurtful. My friends knew about my past and could hardly blame me for having a few “issues.”
Satisfied I passed inspection, I made my way to my truck, grabbing my keys and wallet on the way out the door. As soon as I stepped outside, the light breeze hit me in the face and blew my longish hair in every direction. One would think that with my compulsive grooming habits having longer hair would be a deal breaker for me, but this unfortunately was also one of those things my childhood nightmares were made of. Fortunately, the ladies seemed to like it this way. As I made my way to my truck, I allowed my thoughts to drift back to a time in my life when things weren’t so simple and surviving day to day seemed nearly impossible.
“All right, class, let me introduce our new student to you. His name is Range Reardon and he just moved here to Remington. Everyone, say hello to Range and let’s give him a warm welcome, shall we?”
I took a quick look around the classroom filled with all the clean-cut boys and girls, and slowly felt my face start to heat up from embarrassment. They all looked so pristine and youthful with their colorful shirts and bright eyes. Some of the girls had bright bows in their hair and wore frilly skirts with short ankle socks to match. The boys all had nice haircuts and clean faces, each wearing tennis shoes or loafers to fit the style. I could tell as soon as they took one look at me that I was totally out of place with this group of kids. My shirt had a hole in it right at the collar and my jeans were too small, which also meant they were too short for my tall but slender frame. I reached up and scratched the top of my head, noticing how all the girls scrunched up their noses at me, probably considering it was a fair bet I had lice. My nails were dirty underneath and we had run out of toothpaste the day before, so I could only brush with water. I didn’t have a notebook or a pen to my name, but school was free, so I didn’t have to worry about not being allowed to attend. I could also get a free meal here, which would probably be my only meal of the day, considering my old man was not much of a cook even if we had the money to buy groceries. One of the girl students in the back of the classroom raised her hand as if she had a question.
“Mrs. Greene, I don’t want him to sit next to me. He looks funny and probably smells like a stray dog and has the fleas too.”
I felt my eyes begin to sting and my nose start to tickle, and I knew I would start crying any moment. All of the children started laughing and pointing at me, while Mrs. Greene tried to gain order in her classroom. But it was too late. The damage was done. While the teacher was attempting to quiet the class, I took off running down the hall. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew I had to get out of there and fast. I ran and ran, not knowing which direction I was headed to or how far I was going. It was only after I could no longer feel my legs that I slowed down and took a look at my surroundings. I was standing in front of a sign that said “Buck’s Junkyard Private Property.” The sign was resting on top of a huge gate clearly designed to keep people out when it wasn’t open for business. But since I was small enough in stature, I was able to climb through to the other side fairly easily. As I took a look around the vast yard, I noticed there were cars everywhere. Old cars piled on top of other old cars, different colors and models, but they were all flattened in big heaps on top of one another. I took a few steps forward and could see there were rows upon rows of cars everywhere, even a few cars lying against a tree. I went to take a step further when a hand landed on my shoulder, stopping me in place.
“What the fuck you doin’ here, boy? Don’t you read good?” That voice was so harsh and gruff the owner must be a serious smoker. What I saw made all breath leave my lungs in a flash: a giant, at least to my twelve-year-old body. The man standing before me was massive. He had bulging muscles in his arms and tattoos that ran from his neck all the way down to the tips of his fingers. I could tell by the wrinkles around his eyes that he was an older man, probably in his forties or so. He had silver streaks running through his too long hair and a beard that was braided with a rubber band attached to the end of it. “Did you hear me, boy? I said, what the fuck you doin’, sneaking around here when we’re closed? Don’t you know you could get hurt fucking around this place? Are you retarded or something? Answer me when I’m talking to you!”
I could see in his eyes he was clearly pissed off, so I thought I should go with the truth. “I ran away from school, ‘cause they were making fun of me, and I just ended up here. I wasn’t going to touch anything, I promise. I was just looking around.” At my explanation, the big man folded his arms over his chest and just stared at me. It was right in that moment when my head began to itch like crazy and all I could do was reach up and scratch it like my life depended on it. The man looked me up and down, noticing the too small clothes and ratty tennis shoes, and began to speak again. I’m Buck. This here is my place. What’s your name, boy?” Again, I decided the truth was the best option with the man I now knew as Buck. “My name is Range. Range Reardon. Pleased to meet you, Sir.” This got me a big grunt and a scowl, then he uncrossed his arms and pointed a meaty finger at me in response: “Just Buck, boy, no fucking sirs around here.” To this, I simply nodded. I mean, what else was I going to say to this guy? I had to scratch my head again, and Buck most certainly took notice. The way he was looking at me should have frightened me, but I had seen a lot in my too few years and this man did not raise any red flags for some reason. He was looking as if he was trying to figure out what he was going to do with me. He took a deep breath and used his right hand to caress his beard while speaking. “Follow me to the back so we can get something to eat. It’s breakfast time and I’m hungry. Just lookin’ at your little ass, I can tell you don’t each much, so you must be hungry too. I ain’t gonna hurt you, kid, but I sure as fuck can’t leave your ass out here alone. Bring your little narrow ass and follow me.”
Breakfast sounded great to me, and since right at that moment my stomach decided to growl as well, I thought it best to follow Buck to the back.
Little did I know that Buck would save my life that day, and then give me a new one. I shook off those lingering thoughts as I made my way to my truck, once again excited about collection day. With a smile on my face and the wind in my hair, I set off to my destination like a fucking boss.
CHAPTER 2
Clover
“Rise and shine, M&M, mom says it’s time for you to get ready for work.”
Ugh, I hated that name, but no matter how many times I told them to stop calling me that, all I got was a smile and a blow-off. My sisters seemed to find this extremely funny, but I never thought it was and probably never would. Them calling me the milkman’s daughter started years ago and got shortened gradually over time to just M&M. It was an ongoing joke in my family that either I was adopte
Freshly showered and ready to face my day, I took one more quick moment to give myself a pep talk before I descended the stairs. I could predict how this short interaction with my family was going to go before I even got close to the bottom step: my dad lying on the couch with his house slippers on, reading the newspaper, and my mom in the kitchen, drinking coffee. Although I was only twenty-two, my dad retired several years ago from his job as head chef in an upscale restaurant in New York City. He decided that since the property taxes and cost of living were so high there, we should move here to Virginia and live in my grandmother’s house since it was paid for and she was no longer living. We packed up and moved without giving it a second thought.
I made my way into the den and yelled out a greeting to Denny—as we all called my dad—and he threw his hand up in his usual greeting. He hated to be disturbed while he was reading the morning paper. He said it ruined his entire day. Considering he watched soap operas until he fell asleep, I didn’t really see how this was possible, but whatever. As I neared the kitchen, I could hear my mom talking to my sisters and knew the fun was just about to begin.
“About time your lazy tail got out of bed. You know you can’t be late for work. Next time, go to bed earlier instead of staying up all night, watching television.”
I gave her a quick look as if to say ‘Are you kidding me?’ Out of all my sisters, I was the only one with a job and granted, I’d only been there a month, but I’d never once been late. I took my time, slowly grabbing a mug out of the cabinet so that I could have my morning coffee, when I noticed my sister Shelly staring at me with a smirk on her face like the cat that got the cream. I rolled my eyes and continued to dress my morning coffee with sugar and milk when she finally opened her mouth.
“I have a date tonight with Jason, so I will more than likely be out late. He’s taking me to that new restaurant on Wilson that just opened. I hear it’s really nice. Where are you going tonight, Ashley? Is Tony taking you with him to his concert tonight?”
This little game my sisters insisted on playing every weekend was so old and tired it was like watching two senior citizens trying to cross the street. Eventually, they made it, but damn, was it boring, at least to me. They went through this little exercise in order to make me feel bad. It’d been so long since I’d had a date or gone out with friends, my party dresses had mold on them. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to go out and meet a nice man; it was just that I was sick of all the game-playing and bullshit when the end game was to sleep with me. I think I would have more respect for men if they just came out and said, ‘Hey, let’s fuck.’ I was pulled from my little pity party when I heard my mom asking me a question.
“I take it you’ll be home after work tonight?”
“Of course, what else would I be doing?”
“Don’t be a smartass. Finish your coffee so you won’t be late”
I gave my sisters a quick glance just in time see them snickering, and just like that I was pissed the fuck off. Grabbing my purse from the table, I made my way to the door to start my walk to work, saying a quick ‘Goodbye’ to Denny, who was still too wrapped up in the morning paper to notice.
I enjoyed my time walking to work all by myself. It was only a few blocks, but it gave me time to think and evaluate my life as it stood now. Working at Fosters’ Chocolates and Confections had its advantages, such as a small staff of just me and Mr. and Mrs. Foster. They had been in the chocolate-making business for decades, and since they were getting older decided to take on some help. They still made all of the chocolates and pastries, but I usually got to help out with the prep work and ran the cash register. It was quiet most days and I didn’t have to worry about co-workers and office gossip that usually went along with working in corporate America. It didn’t really matter, because soon I would have enough money saved up for my car and would be able to go anywhere I wanted without having to ask my parents for anything.
I turned the corner and saw Fosters’. It was nestled in between a laundromat and a tattoo parlor in a small industrial section of this part of town. The area wasn’t very populated and those three businesses took up the entire side of the road. Occasionally, the crowd from the tattoo parlor could look a bit rough around the edges, but they were hardly the type to eat chocolate, so they normally just stayed on their side of the complex. I made my way along the sidewalk when all of a sudden I felt a little tickle on my arm. I reached down to see what it was and holy shit! It was a fucking spider. Oh god! I panicked. My breathing came hard and all my blood rushed to my brain to the point where I felt like I might faint. What the fuck should I do? Oh god, help me! was all I could think, along with the fear I might shit myself. I took off running, just in time to see someone getting out of a truck in front of the laundromat. I knew without a doubt that I had to make it there in the next few seconds or someone was going to have to call 911.
I took off running like Usain Bolt, the fastest sprinter in the world, just in time to see my savior round the back of his truck, and I attacked. I jumped on his back, taking him by complete surprise and knocking some of the air out of him. But at this point I didn’t give a shit. I needed him like I needed my next breath.
“Please, get it off me, please. I’m begging you. Help me, please. Get it off me.”
“What the fuck? Get the fuck off my back! Are you crazy?”
My savior flipped me over his shoulder, using a move I could only describe as something out of WWE, and I braced myself for the impact of hitting the ground. With my eyes closed, I noticed that it never came, and I was so shaken up and surprised I could only whisper, “Please, there is a spider on my arm. Get it off before it kills me.”
Tears were streaming down my cheeks and I was finding it difficult to breathe. I squeezed the stranger’s shoulders so tight I knew it was going to leave a bruise. Between crying and squeezing, I saw my life flash before my eyes and hated the vision before me. I was going to die right here on the sidewalk, and no one would miss me. What had I accomplished in my life so far? Who had ever told me they loved me? What risks had I taken so far? With each question that flashed in my mind, I cried harder and harder until I heard his voice along with the feel of a shake to my arms.
“Calm down. He’s dead. I killed the fucker.”
I didn’t believe him. How could I? I continued to shake my head with my eyes closed, willing my death to be quick at his hands—or should I say eight hands of this murdering beast.
“I said, calm down. He’s dead, I swear. Now relax, take a breath, and open your eyes. I promise nothing is going to hurt you now. It’s gone. Open your eyes so you can see for yourself.”
The stranger was holding my arms tightly, but I could feel his thumbs moving in circles on my flesh. His warm touch along with his encouraging words were enough to stifle the panic I was feeling for me to take several deep breaths through my nose and letting it out through my mouth. After a few moments, I was able to calm myself enough to stop crying hysterically and take a few more shuddering breaths. I slowly opened my eyes to see the stranger staring back at me with concern in his eyes.
“Are you ok now? You scared the shit outta me. I could have really hurt you if I hadn’t realized you were a girl.”
I’m dead. I must be. There is no other explanation for the vision I saw before me. The mutant spider took a chunk out of my arm and I was dead on the sidewalk. Angels had come to take me away to heaven. I wished I could have said good-bye to Denny and my mom, maybe even my sisters, before I died, but it was too late to worry about that now. I hoped they buried me in my favorite dress with the pink flowers and curl my hair so it hung nicely with the neckline. Maybe I could appear to one of them as a ghost and tell them my final wishes before they put me in the ground.
