Brothers South of the Mason Dixon

by Abbi Glines

  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 eat at Jack’s and pay for my meal than sit through this again.

  Taking that 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 text.

  “You expecting a text? Thought you were in a snit about Scarlet leaving again. Didn’t think you’d move on that fast.”

  “Fucking nosy,” I said, knowing the moment I checked my phone someone would notice. Did these people have nothing better to do than watch my every move. “Eat your damn pie and let’s go.”

  He smiled this time. He took a piece of pecan and peanut butter pie, then began eating 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 that figured 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 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, come with me,” I said as I stood up.

  I waited for Momma to argue or ask questions. 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 out of here now.”

  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 Jacks?”

  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.”

  Scarlet

  THIS USED TO be a time of peace for me. Cleaning up after closing. I would clean tabletops, vacuum, sweep, mop, and think about nothing. Just work 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 closing 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 and 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 God’s sake! 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 stopped making the coffee, I’ve tried to get the trash out before you have to carry it out, and I even attempt 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 fill it with fresh water. I refused to mop with water once it started getting dirty.

  “The package . . . Ooookaaaay, and what does that mean exactly? What is the package?”

  I stomped past him 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. 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 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 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 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 sat 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 cooties made me laugh. Really laugh. It felt good.

  Bray

  IT WAS A moment of weakness. Resting my head 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. The sound had caught their attention. Scarlet’s eyes locked with mine as I closed the truck 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 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 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 now. Reaching out I took one of her hands and pulled it gently from her face. She lifted her gaze to me, eyes wide with surprise that I was so close now.

  “Baby, he needs to take his hands off you,” I said in a soft firm voice. This was not the time to fucking lose my temper. But addressing him would likely make me do so.

  She frowned as if she wasn’t sure what I meant. Did she not even realize his hands were on her? It finally dawned on her and she turned to look back at him. “I’m okay, Diesel. Thanks.” She stepped away from him so that his hands fell away.

  Diesel? What the fuck kinda name was that?

  “Bray, this is Diesel. We work together. Diesel, this is Bray, my . . . we were . . . he’s . . . a friend.” She stammered over her words like she didn’t know what to say. How to explain me.

  “So you’re good?” he asked, needing reassurance.

  She nodded. “Yes. I’m fine.”

  He didn’t want to leave. His eyes were on me trying to determine what kind of fucking friend I was. If he didn’t walk away I was going to step in and make him. Letting her handle it was hard. If I wanted a chance with getting her alone I knew I had to let her do this. Or she’d leave us both standing out here in the dark.

  I barely glanced his way. Scarlet was one wrong move from running off. Keeping my eyes on her and pleading with her silently to talk to me was all I could do.

  She studied me a few moments then took a deep breath. “We can take your truck,” she said to me finally.

  I wanted to fucking sigh in relief but I didn’t. “Good,” I replied and held out my hand for her to take. She looked down at it, then slipped her hand into mine. Wrapping my fingers around her dainty hand felt good.

  She moved to stand beside me, then started walking toward my truck. Although she smelled like fried country food and bleach I still wanted to inhale deeply. Get as much of her soaked in as I could. She didn’t look back at Mr. Gasoline. That made it easier to accept he had been making her laugh when I got there.

  “Scarlet,” he called out. “Do you want me to bring you your car?”

  She turned her head to look back at him. “No thank you,” she replied. “I’ll get it later.”

  “We got it. I’ll make sure she has what she needs,” I added with a smirk. Then I reached around her, pressing my body against hers as I opened the passenger side door for her to climb inside.

  Placing my hand on her hips I helped her. When she was in the seat she glared back at me. “I didn’t need a boost.”

  “No? Well, I needed to put my hands on you,” I said, then winked before closing her door and walking around the front of the truck. Cutting my eyes toward the guy with the stupid name
I saw he was there watching us still. Fucking annoying.

  “Are you who she ran from? Why she works herself to death?” he asked loudly.

  I paused. Turned to face him and held his bold glare with one of my own. “If it was a story she wanted you to know she would have told you.”

  His shoulders were thrown back to stand taller. “Don’t fuck with her. She’s been happier lately.”

  I didn’t like that comment and I didn’t like being told what to do. I took one step toward him as I felt the darkness start to slowly burn as it raced through me. He went from tough guy to backing up a step.

  “I know how to make her happy. Don’t need advice on that one.” Before I could say more, Scarlet was in front of me. Her hands on my chest drew my attention off the fucker out there and back to her.

  “Don’t. Just get in the truck. Please.” She looked scared. Of me or what she thought I was going to do I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to be the reason her happiness turned to fear.

  I nodded and cupped her face with my hands, then kissed her. She tensed for a moment only. Slowly, her body leaned into mine and her lips opened for me. I tasted and explored while she pressed against me. This may keep us from getting very far from the parking lot. I’d needed to mark my territory in front of the dipshit. I hadn’t thought about my hunger taking over and not being able to stop this if I started it.

  When he cleared his throat, Scarlet stepped back quickly, her quick breaths causing her chest to rise and fall rapidly as she gazed up at me. “We should leave,” she panted.

  I grinned. “Yeah, we should.”

  Her cheeks flushed. She hurried back to the truck and climbed in. I shot Diesel one last amused grin, then climbed in the truck myself. Let him remember that shit. She was mine. She’d shown him that pretty damn clearly.

  “Stop looking so smug,” Scarlet said as I pulled out of the parking lot.

  I couldn’t stop grinning. “Not smug, baby.”

  She let out a sharp laugh. “Yes, you are. I climbed all over you out there.”

  Reaching over I placed a hand on her thigh. “Don’t remind me or we won’t make it to your place.”