Highball Rush: Bootleg Springs Book 6

by Kingsley, Claire

  “I guess that would have been close.”

  “This is all gonna turn out fine. You know that, right?”

  The beer bottle dangled from my hand. “I hope so.”

  “You keep right on hoping, but I’m here to tell you, it will. Gibson ain’t gonna stop until he makes sure no one can ever hurt you again. He’s a Bodine. We’re not quitters.”

  “You’re stubborn is what y’all are.”

  She laughed. “You ain’t wrong. Sometimes it’s our best quality.”

  “Speaking of Bodines, where are the rest of them? And where’s Devlin tonight?”

  “With Gibs.” She took a swig of beer.

  “Scarlett,” I said, my voice stern. “What are they doing?”

  “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

  “He said he had things to do and left before I could ask questions. What’s going on?”

  She patted my arm. “Trust me. Everything is gonna be fine.”

  “Oh god, he’s going after Lee Williams, isn’t he? Why’d you let him do that? That man has killed people.”

  “And I’m telling you, there’s no need to worry. They have it handled.”

  “He picked you to babysit me because he knew you wouldn’t let me leave, didn’t he?”

  She paused with her beer halfway to her mouth and grinned. “Maybe.”

  “What’ll you do if I try?”

  “I have options,” she said with a shrug. “He told me you’re not to leave his property under any circumstances. And I intend to keep my word.”

  I sighed, then took a long pull of beer. Gibson had been right to get his sister to keep me here. Going toe to toe with Scarlett Bodine wasn’t something I had any interest in experiencing. I decided I’d trust her and stay—for now. “Tell you what, I’ll go easy on you. I won’t even try to run.”

  “I think that’s smart.” She winked at me and we both smiled.

  I stepped closer to the warmth of the fire. Cash seemed to be enjoying it. He rolled onto his back, his stocky legs sticking in the air.

  A slow song came on and a few couples paired off to dance. Another car rumbled down the driveway and parked, four people pouring out. I couldn’t see who they were from here, but none of them were Gibson. It was hard not to worry about what he was up to. Maybe if his brothers were with him, that meant he’d be all right. Cassidy wasn’t here either. Did that mean they were involving the law? That was a comforting thought.

  Apart from my concern for what kind of trouble Gibson might be getting himself into, I felt calm. The box in my mind wasn’t just empty—it was gone. I’d released all the horrible things inside. And I’d survived.

  My parents hadn’t broken me when I was a child. And the trauma they’d inflicted wasn’t going to break me now. I still felt fear. The idea that they were out there, and quite possibly wanted me dead, was terrifying. I knew I’d never be completely safe until they were both behind bars. But my two halves had become whole.

  I wasn’t Callie anymore—not the Callie of thirteen years ago, at least. I wasn’t Maya, either. I was both. I was a girl who’d been abused. A woman who’d built a new life. The demons of my past no longer festered in my mind. I’d faced the worst of them and come out on the other side.

  I’d survived.

  “Oh, hell no. What is she doing here?” Scarlett said. She widened her stance and crossed her arms. “I did not invite skankzilla.”

  Misty Lynn stood on the other side of the fire, holding a lit cigarette between two fingers. Her teased-out hair looked like it had been hair-sprayed into granite, and despite the chill in the air, she wore a bright yellow halter top and denim miniskirt.

  “Bless your heart, Misty Lynn,” Scarlett said. “Did you have to give up your nicotine patches while you finished your chlamydia meds?”

  Misty Lynn made a dramatic show of rolling her eyes. She walked around the fire and stood in front of Scarlett. Took a long drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke in Scarlett’s face.

  Scarlett waved her hand in front of her. “Get your cancer stick out of here. And I swear to all that’s holy, if you leave a single cigarette butt on my brother’s property, I’ll give you a missing tooth to go with that crooked nose.”

  “Shut your damn mouth. It’s bad enough your daddy’s old whore is trying to sink her claws into my dad. I don’t need you mouthing off at me too.”

  I dropped my beer and threw my arms around Scarlett’s middle, dragging her out of arm’s reach before she gouged Misty Lynn’s eyes out.

  “Don’t you dare talk about Jenny like that, you dirty home-wrecker.”

  “Go home, Misty Lynn,” I said. “You’re just out here trying to make trouble and we don’t need any more of that.”

  Misty Lynn stuck a hand on her hip and took another drag from her cigarette. “You ain’t special, you know. You probably think you are because the stupid people in this stupid town kept your posters up for so long. But they were wrong about you. You’re not the town sweetheart. You’re a filthy liar.”

  Scarlett squirmed against my grasp. I was going to lose her. “Can I get a little help, here?”

  Nash jogged over, his thick arms like tree trunks stuffed in flannel. He eyed us warily.

  “Come on, Nash, just hold on to her for a minute,” I said.

  “I’m gonna kill her,” Scarlett snarled.

  “Crap on a cracker,” Nash muttered, getting his arms around her so I could extricate myself. “Scarlett, don’t blame me for this.”

  “Let go of me, Nash. It’s about time someone served up some Bootleg Justice on that lying, cheating, piece of bleached-out fake-boobed garbage.”

  “Go home, Misty Lynn,” I said again.

  She tried to flick her cigarette toward me, but it wound up flying into the fire.

  “You think you can just waltz back into town, with your ugly purple hair, wearing the same dress every other day. Do you even own another one?”

  “This from the girl who’s been wearing the same tube tops and ratty leggings since seventh grade,” Scarlett said.

  Misty Lynn wasn’t paying attention to Scarlett, and I had a feeling trading insults with Gibson’s sister wasn’t why she’d come out here.

  “Gibson doesn’t know what’s good for him,” she said, her eyes on me.

  “You think that’s you?” I asked.

  “Better than you,” she said. “At least I didn’t trick a whole town into believing I’m someone else.”

  Why was I even having this conversation? “What’s your point?”

  Something in her expression changed, her heavily mascaraed eyes narrowing, the corner of her mouth tilting upward. It was like she could sense she wasn’t getting to me and had just thought of a new angle.

  “I had him first, you know.”

  “Had him?” I asked. “What you did was fake your way into his life for a very short time when he was too young and dumb to see you for what you are. And then you cheated on him after his mother died. Instead of holding onto him and loving him through one of the worst times of his life, you kicked him when he was down. I don’t know if you’re trying to make me jealous, but it won’t work. There’s nothing to be jealous of.”

  Misty Lynn crossed her arms, but I turned toward the sound of tires tearing down the long drive. Gibson’s truck spat gravel as he slammed on the brakes. He hopped out and ran toward us, rushing straight toward me.

  “Gibs, don’t be mad,” Scarlett said, shrugging out of Nash’s grip. “We just wanted something fun to do while we—”

  “I ain’t mad at you, Scar,” he said, his eyes on me. “I need to talk to you. Now.”

  “Where’s everyone else?” Scarlett asked.

  “Goin’ to see the sheriff. Get everyone out of here. This ain’t the time.” His gaze swung around and landed on Misty Lynn.

  I’d seen Gibson angry. I’d seen him so far gone with rage he’d bloodied his own knuckles. But I’d never seen his face like this.

  “Get he
r off my property,” he growled.

  “You ain’t still mad about the wallet thing, are you?” Misty Lynn asked.

  He stared her down, fists clenched, and I had no idea how Misty Lynn wasn’t wilting under the intensity of his gaze. I’d never been afraid of Gibson, but if I’d been in her shoes, I would have been.

  Maybe she was just too stupid to realize how close he was to snapping.

  “Go,” I said. “Party’s over anyway.”

  “This is on you,” Gibson said, his voice low and dangerous. “If they fucking hurt her, it’s on you.”

  I gently touched his arm. “Gibs, what are you talking about?”

  “She squealed on us.”

  “What?”

  “She went back to Lee’s motel with him last night. Told him who you are. Used your real name.”

  Everything seemed to move in slow motion. I was vaguely aware of Scarlett’s screeching war cry. Nash’s grunt as he grabbed her around the waist. Misty Lynn’s crispy hair backlit by the fire.

  But all I could feel was rage. A hot surge of anger so deep and so potent, I didn’t even try to fight it.

  I went supernova.

  With two fast steps, I was on her, my arm already cocked, my fist closed. I swung from my hip, twisting at the waist, channeling every bit of strength I had through my arm and into my hand. My punch connected with the back of her jaw, just below the ear. I felt no pain. Just the satisfying collision of my knuckles smashing into her face.

  She spun with the force of my blow and it looked like her legs instantly turned to jelly. She crumpled to the ground in a heap.

  40

  GIBSON

  Misty Lynn didn’t move. Her legs buckled and she dropped to the dirt, out cold.

  Caught between shock and pride, I stared at Callie. She’d just knocked out Misty Lynn with one swing. A second ago, I’d been so mad I couldn’t see straight. I didn’t hit women, but I’d been an inch away from hauling Misty Lynn bodily off my property. And then Callie had laid her out.

  “Holy shit,” I said in awe.

  “Ow.” Callie winced, clutching her hand to her chest. “Crap, that hurt.”

  That jerked me out of my stupor. Ignoring the cheers that rose up around the fire, I led Callie toward the house. Scarlett followed close behind, with Cash right on her heels. We got inside and I shut and locked the door behind us.

  “Oh my god, I’m a tiny bit in love with you right now,” Scarlett said. She went for the freezer to get ice.

  Callie kept her hand cradled against her chest. “I can’t believe I just did that. I’ve never punched anyone before.”

  “That had to have felt good.” Scarlett cracked the tray to loosen the ice cubes. “Did you see the way she collapsed? She was out before she hit the ground.”

  “Yeah, it did feel good, actually,” Callie said with a weak smile. Cash sat right at her feet, looking up at her like he was worried.

  I gently took Callie’s hand and turned it palm down so I could see the damage. Not too much swelling, which was a good sign. “Can you move it?”

  She wiggled her fingers. “It hurts, but I don’t think I broke anything.”

  Scarlett handed me a bag of ice and a paper towel. I took Callie to the couch and held her hand, carefully laying the ice on top. Cash jumped up and put his head in her lap.

  “Thank you,” she said, absently petting Cash with her good hand.

  “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, you better not mess with me.”

  “Damn, I wish someone had been recording that,” Scarlett said, flopping down into a chair. “I’d watch it every morning just to put me in a good mood.”

  “Do you think she’s okay?” I glanced toward the curtained front window.

  “Someone’ll drag her dumb ass home,” Scarlett said. “If you loosened a few teeth, that’s her problem. She deserves worse.”

  Callie met my eyes. “Where were you?”

  Still holding the ice on her hand, I told her everything. About the moonshine truth serum. All the things Lee had said. We had it all, the truth about everything. It was more than enough to get the FBI involved, I was sure of it.

  “That worked as well as expected,” Scarlett said. “Well done, Gibs.”

  “Where’s he now?” Callie asked.

  “Probably sleeping off the moonshine in a jail cell by now. He’s in for one hell of a hangover when he wakes up.”

  “Yep,” Scarlett said. “Dev just texted and said the package has been delivered. They’re all on their way here.”

  “Good.”

  “So what happens now?” Scarlett asked. “When do all the black unmarked cars roll up to the Kendalls’ place, wherever the heck they are, and haul them off to prison?”

  “Not soon enough for me,” I said. “The sheriff is gonna do everything he can to get the FBI in on this. But I don’t know how long it’s going to take.”

  “Which means what?” Scarlett asked. “A day? A week? More?”

  Damn, this was frustrating. “I don’t know. We can ask Harlan what he thinks tomorrow.”

  “Too long,” Callie said. “Because the Kendalls know I’m here.”

  “Maybe they’ll leave it be until after the hearing,” Scarlett said, her voice lilting slightly, as if she was trying to sound hopeful.

  Callie stared ahead of her, like she was seeing through the wall. “I think they’ll come.”

  I didn’t want to make her feel worse, but I did too. Lee had said the judge was acting paranoid. Going off the deep end. If the judge was a reasonable man who felt in control of his fate, he’d probably leave his lackey to keep an eye on things here and focus on all the politics. Rubbing elbows with senators or whatever he was doing.

  But I didn’t think the judge was a reasonable man who felt in control of his fate. I’d have put money on him being a man who’d spent the first twelve years of his daughter’s disappearance with fear in the back of his head. Fear that she’d turn up and tell the world what he and his wife had done to her. A man who’d spent the last year, since her sweater had been found, constantly trying to put out fires. Trying to keep them from burning down his whole life.

  And now the thing he feared most was on the cusp of coming true. Callie was back in Bootleg Springs.

  “We need to go to the press,” Callie and I said at the same time.

  She laughed. “What? I was ready to argue with you.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “It’s time. If the Kendalls come to Bootleg Springs, it’ll be because they’re afraid you’re going to go public and ruin them. So let’s fucking do that.”

  “Okay. We go to the press.”

  My family started showing up, one couple after another. There wasn’t much more to talk about. They all agreed we were probably right to go public, even Cass—and I assured her we’d run it by Harlan. And Jayme. But at this point, it seemed inevitable.

  “Well, we can sit in here and feel glum, or we can go out and enjoy the fire,” Scarlett said. “I vote fire.”

  Everyone agreed, and we poured out of my cabin into the cool night. The fire had burned down, but we got it going again. And for a little while, it kinda felt like everything was fine. Like maybe we were just out here, doing what Bootleggers did. Enjoying an evening with friends and family beneath the stars.

  Callie stared into the fire, her forehead creased with worry. I wandered over to her and brushed the hair back from her face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She looked past me. “I just keep wondering what would have happened if I hadn’t come back here. I brought all this trouble on everyone.”

  “Honey, what are you talkin’ about?”

  She took a deep breath. “What if it doesn’t work? What if people don’t believe me? Or they can’t use the evidence they find for some reason? My father’s been getting away with everything for so long. He’ll have contingency plans or… I don’t know, something. Then what? I’ll never be safe,
and neither will you or your family or this town. What if everything goes wrong and we look back and realize your life would have been so much better if I’d just stayed away? If Callie Kendall had stayed dead.”

  I took her face in my hands. “Don’t you ever say that, you hear? Nothing would have been right if you hadn’t come back. If this goes to shit, we’ll figure it out.”

  Her lips turned up in a weak smile.

  I kissed her forehead.

  “Besides, my life was boring as hell before you showed up.”

  “Yeah?”

  I gave her a little grin. “I think the highlight was when we found out Devlin got Scarlett’s name tattooed on his ass and the artist spelled it wrong.”

  “I regret everything about that, especially telling you assholes,” Devlin said.

  “How could you regret everything about your cute little butt tattoo?” Scarlett asked. “It says my name on a rose.”

  “Oh god, there’s a flower too?” Bowie asked. “That’s more information about Devlin’s ass than any of us needed.”

  Devlin pointed at me with his beer. “Gibson brought it up.”

  “You’re the one who lost the bet,” Scarlett said, crossing her arms. “It ain’t right for you to complain about it now.”

  Callie laughed. “Who’d you lose a bet to?”

  Scarlett grinned, looking proud. “Me, of course.”

  “Can we stop talking about my ass, please?” Devlin asked.

  “If you’re going to have to live with your future wife’s name permanently misspelled on your body, at least it’s on your posterior,” June said. “Very few people will see it.”

  “Until we pants you next time we’re all at the rusty reef,” Jameson said.

  “You’re all assholes,” Devlin said, but he was trying to hide a grin.

  He knew my brothers were fucking with him. Mostly.

  Best of all, Callie was perking up.

  “Is her name really spelled wrong?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” Devlin said with a roll of his eyes. “The guy spelled it with an i-t-t, not e-t-t.”