Cash's Fight

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Cash's Fight Page 16

by Jamie Begley


  “Hi, Shade, Cash.” Jace and his friend came to a stop at the bikes.

  “Hey, Jace, Cal.”

  Cash was surprised Jace and Cal were friends. Cal came from one of the poorest families in town while Jace was from the wealthiest. It was a mismatched pair, but the two had been firm friends since preschool.

  “Can we talk?” Shade’s expression made it seem important.

  “Sure.” The boy’s chest puffed up that someone like Shade had deliberately sought him out while Cal’s expression became impassive and watchful.

  “Your dad will be here any minute.”

  Cash had to admire the kid for trying to watch out for his friend.

  “This won’t take long. I have a favor to ask. Cash here wants to make friends with those cousins of yours. I was hoping you could hook him up with a helping hand. Of course, I could help you out with something you’re wanting real badly, too. I have an extra bike I don’t need any more. You would have to get your dad’s permission and get your motorcycle license, but it would be yours, free of charge.”

  Of course the boy was a Porter, and he was suspicious of their motives, despite the gleam in his eyes when the motorcycle had been mentioned. “Why do you want to become friends with them? They hate your guts.”

  Cash winced at his blunt question. “I was hoping you could help me out with that problem. I’m going to be straight with you: I don’t give a shit about your cousins, but Rachel won’t go out with me without their permission.”

  As the two boys looked at each other and burst into laughter, Cash shifted uncomfortably on his bike.

  “You have a whole clubhouse of chicks, and Rach is giving you trouble?”

  At Cash’s silence, their laughter continued.

  “Do we have a deal?” Thank God Shade intervened because he was about to kick another Porter’s ass and doom any hope he had of getting Rachel.

  “Yeah, I’ll help. But let’s be clear, if he hurts my cousin again, I’ll tell my dad, and believe me, if you think Rachel’s brothers are a pain to deal with, he will become your own personal nightmare.”

  “I have no intention of hurting Rachel,” Cash said through clenched teeth. He was going to have to take a couple of Valiums just to steady his nerves when he was around anyone with the last name Porter.

  “Cool, it’s settled then,” Shade intervened once again, seeing Cash’s temper wearing thin.

  “I’m going hunting with them this weekend. We’ve been dying to hunt on your private land. We could stay the night at your cabin. That would win some brownie points with them.”

  Cash wasn’t anxious for them to be anywhere near him with loaded weapons, but Jace was right. That property was marked no trespassing, and everyone in the county knew it held a large number of game.

  “All right. Set it up. I’ll pick you guys up Saturday morning at five a.m.”

  “We better go,” Shade warned.

  Cash looked up the street and spotted the cherry-colored Porsche at the red light, ready to pull into the theater’s parking lot.

  “Later,” Cash said, starting his motor.

  While both men rode out as Drake pulled in, Cash lifted his hand in acknowledgment. It couldn’t have gone better.

  Cash enjoyed the ride back to Mag’s house, already anticipating the feel of Rachel’s lips on his dick.

  * * *

  Cash stood in the doorway, watching Rachel work with her plants. Her gentle hands worked with them like they were precious jewels instead of seedlings in clumps of dirt.

  “Where’s Mag?”

  Rachel jumped at the sound of his voice.

  “She went to bed a few minutes ago.” She looked at him through the veil of her lashes. “I didn’t cook any extra for dinner. I didn’t expect you back tonight.”

  Cash frowned. “Why not?” He had already eaten at the diner with Shade, but it still pissed him off for some reason.

  As she turned bright red, Cash couldn’t keep the smug grin from his face.

  “Don’t tell me you thought I spent the night at the clubhouse last night and was going to do it again tonight.”

  “What you do is none of my business.” She kept fiddling with her plants.

  “I didn’t go there when I left here last night. I went to Rosie’s, where I had a meeting. That’s when I got the call from Knox and spent the night chasing after that cousin of yours.”

  “Oh.” Rachel shrugged. “Like I said, it’s none of my business. I could make you something if you’re hungry, though.”

  Cash was tempted, just to have her do something for him, but he saw she was busy and he was still full. “That’s okay. I’m not really hungry.”

  Cash saw no reason to alleviate the guilty expression on her face. He was a self-admitted bastard, and he planned to use the opportunity to gain something he wanted.

  “You could give me your cell phone number, and the next time I’m late, I could give you a call or you could call me.”

  Rachel bit her lip. “All right.”

  Cash felt he had won a minor victory. He already had her cell phone number, but he wanted to establish a more intimate bond between them under her radar. Her defenses were so raised against him he had to insert himself into her life by small degrees.

  He pretended to key her number into his phone. When he was done, he walked around the transformed room, which had remained empty as long as he could remember. Mag used to say that, if the good Lord had meant for you to sit your ass in the sun, he wouldn’t have created shade. Now, every time he entered the room, he saw more and more plants.

  A machine bubbling in the corner drew his interest. He walked closer and saw it was a large fish tank, but he had never seen one set up this way. He had seen several tanks set up for survivalists to make purified drinking water, yet he had never seen anything like this one.

  “This is amazing. You did this?”

  “Yes. I’ve been working on it for a while. I have another set up at my home, but I wanted to see if it worked as well with larger tanks.”

  “Does it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Damn, Rachel. I’m really impressed. Now I see why you’re spending so much time back here. I was wondering why you don’t see your clients anymore. Several of the customers coming into the church store have been asking Lily why you’re not taking their calls anymore,” Cash asked curiously.

  When she turned, going back to spraying the plants, Cash looked at her stiff back, guilt hitting him. “Rachel, your clients aren’t going to say anything about me opening my big mouth.”

  “It’s getting late. I need to get to bed. Night, Cash.”

  He watched her leave the room. Hearing the closing of her bedroom door, he turned the lights off in the room and went into the kitchen to get himself a beer. Every time he took a step forward with Rachel, he ended up taking two steps backward. He felt like he was never going to be able to reach her.

  “Got one for me?” Mag asked as she rolled herself into the kitchen.

  “Yeah.” Cash reached into the refrigerator, pulling her out a beer.

  Some people might think it was strange drinking a beer with their eighty-eight-year-old grandmother, but Cash didn’t. She had never done a proper thing in her life. When she was sixteen, she had run off with a carnie worker and married him. After three years on the road, she had returned to Treepoint with him in tow and two babies. Her husband had become hurt and could no longer do the rigorous work of putting the tents up and down.

  Her parents had given her hell but had opened their doors to the family. Everyone had expected her husband—Cash had privately believed there wasn’t a marriage certificate—to not be able to support his family, but he had proven them wrong, working in the mill yard and saving enough money to buy a piece of property. It was the same property he had built the original log home on with his own two hands, managing to buy the scrap lumber for it. They had been married fifty-six years when he had died, and Cash still remembered that day along with his gr
andmother’s face as they had become concerned when he hadn’t returned from a fishing trip. They had found him peacefully lying on the bank; he had passed away while doing what he loved.

  For the first time, his strong-as-a-rock grandmother had broken, begging God to undo what they had found. Losing a man he had admired and loved had been heart-rending for Cash, as well.

  She now sat in a wheelchair, studying him as she drank her beer.

  “I used to go to your football games and watch you make play after play. The harder the game, the harder you played, Cash.”

  “I got knocked around plenty.” He took a drink of his beer.

  “Yes, you did. Remember when we played Jamestown and we were losing? Everyone had given up. The crowd wasn’t even yelling; people were leaving. It was raining and freezing. Parents were standing by metal trashcans, lighting fires to stay warm. Most miserable night of my fucking life, but the proudest I’d ever been of you. The more defeated those other boys became, the more determined you were. You made those touchdowns that won the game. You never quit, and you don’t know how to lose gracefully. Don’t start now when you could lose the biggest prize of your life. She’s worth the fight.”

  Cash set his beer down on the counter. “I know she is, but she hates me. I fucked up, Gram.”

  “I know you did. A woman don’t get that look in her eye unless she’s been hurt past what her heart can bear, but I have faith in you. Seduce her. You’ve had to have learned a thing or two after all I’ve heard about you.”

  Cash arched his brow at his grandmother.

  “I’m old, not senile.” His grandmother finished her beer. “I’m giving you the same advice I gave your father, but he was too arrogant to listen. Court, seduce, or better yet, knock her up. I’d like to see my great-grandchild before I die, but don’t let that girl get away from you. She’s a good woman, Cash.”

  “I know she is,” Cash said softly.

  “Good. Now I’m going to bed.” The old woman turned her wheelchair around to leave.

  “Mag, which one of those worked for Granddad?”

  “I was three months pregnant when I ran off with him.”

  Chapter 21

  “Shh…” Dustin threw Cash a silencing look as they made their way through the woods.

  By this point, Cash didn’t know how he had restrained himself from raising his gun at Dustin. Only the knowledge the man had a child at home had saved his life.

  They finally reached a screen Cash had set up years ago. It was small, but because Rider and Train liked to hunt, it was big enough for the Porters, Jace, and him. They hunkered down to sit, waiting for the game to appear. It was a long, tedious process, but Cash was determined to be affable toward the men. While Jace’s easy nature made it more comfortable, Cash kept trying to talk to the Porters, receiving only brief replies.

  “How old were you when you went in the Navy?”

  “Eighteen,” Cash answered in a low voice.

  “Did you kill anyone?” Jace’s eager questions were beginning to wear on his nerves.

  “A few.”

  “I want to go in the service, but my dad told me no.”

  “The thing about being eighteen is you don’t have to have anyone’s permission to do whatever you want,” Cash answered then backtracked at seeing the Porters’ glares. “Of course, you want your dad to approve. He may know what suits you better,” Cash ended lamely.

  The suddenly mature expression on Jace’s face showed he had only heard the first half of his answer.

  “It’s not fun and games, Jace. If you don’t like your dad telling you what to do, then you’re not going to like having people ranked higher than you doing it all day long. It’s hard work. It means getting your ass out of bed early every morning, working hard all day, just to be told when to go to bed. They won’t put up with an attitude; you have to be respectful at all times. It means giving a commitment to a way of life that means something to you, to help and serve others enough to give your life at any time.”

  “Wow. I’ll think about everything you said.”

  “Why don’t you do that and shut the fuck up before you scare all the game away,” snarled Greer.

  Both Cash and Jace stopped talking. It was twenty minutes before Cash saw a movement at the beginning of the clearing from a red fox and her little kits entering it.

  Tate edged closer to the opening, placing the barrel of his gun through the blind opening while Greer positioned his own rifle.

  “I’ll take the mama. Greer, you take the first two little kits, and Cash, you’re such a good shot, you take the last three kits.”

  His eyes went to the small family sniffing the air for intruders. He nodded.

  Moving forward, his foot jarred the side of the blind, making a loud rustling noise. The family darted from the clearing as if their lives depended on it, which they did.

  The men stared at him in anger. Even Jace looked disappointed in him.

  “What the fuck?” Tate snarled.

  “Sorry, I tripped,” Cash explained without remorse.

  “You have been hunting before, right?” Jace looked at him pathetically.

  “Yes, Jace, I’ve been hunting before.”

  “Often?”

  “Shut up!” Tate’s frustrated voice had them both snapping their mouths closed.

  It was an hour before another animal came into the clearing. I can’t catch a fucking break today, Cash thought as a small fawn came farther into the clearing with its mother walking not far behind.

  Cash could just hear Rachel’s reaction if he let Bambi die. Thinking quickly, Cash had a sneezing fit that had the deer fleeing.

  “Motherfucker, did you bring us out here just to bug the piss out of us?” Dustin’s harsh voice had Cash shrugging apologetically.

  “I can’t help it if I’m allergic to Jace’s cologne.”

  Jace glared at him but took the brunt of the brothers’ anger. The boy wanted the promised motorcycle enough to become the patsy.

  “You wore cologne?” Dustin sniffed toward his cousin.

  “I didn’t want to shower,” Jace mumbled.

  “How about we just go on to the cabin and fix some breakfast. We can get an early start on fishing.” Cash stood as best he could in the small confines of the blind, going outside the small structure.

  “I guess we haven’t got a choice with Jace polluting the air,” Greer grumbled as all the men came out.

  They hiked the two miles to his cabin. When he opened the door, the Porters from oldest to youngest whistled.

  “Now this is what I call a cabin,” Jace said admiringly.

  “Put your backpacks up. I’ll fix breakfast.” It didn’t take long for him to fry bacon and eggs and make a strong pot of coffee. The men all dug in, eating as soon as he put the food on the table.

  They spent the rest of the day outside fishing, getting along because they remained quiet. Jace had quieted down, too, throwing him hurt looks every so often. Cash felt like he had stepped on a rambunctious puppy’s tail.

  However, everyone’s mood improved as soon as the fish started to be caught. The size of them had them all trying to outdo the others to catch the biggest one.

  As Cash’s line pulled taut, he drew the pole back, and he could tell by the strength of the tugging it was a big fish. Unobtrusively, he released the line, letting the fish go.

  Reeling in his line, they taunted him for losing the fish.

  “You don’t fish any better than you can shoot,” Greer taunted.

  Cash remained quiet.

  After another hour, he stood and stretched. “How about I go back to the cabin and clean a few for dinner?”

  “Sounds good. It’s not like you’re catching anything anyway.” Dustin laughed. “You might as well play bitch and cook.” Dustin laughed again, throwing his line back in the water.

  “You sure you don’t want to stay and let us give you a few pointers?” Greer added, throwing the fish he had just caught into the coo
ler.

  “We’ll save that for another day,” Cash replied, picking up the cooler and leaving Jace to pack Cash’s pole back when he returned with his cousins.

  It took Cash a good hour to walk off his anger when he got back to the cabin. If he hadn’t wanted their approval for Rachel, he would have thrown them into the water and driven back to town alone.

  After his walk, he burned off any anger he had left by gutting the fish and getting them ready to fry. The gas stove was old but had cooked many good meals. He remembered several of the ones he and his father had shared in the cabin that had been built by his grandfather and dad. There used to be an old, dirt road that led from his grandparents’ cabin to this one, but it had long ago grown over.

  His father had passed away when he was in the service, and by the time he had returned to Treepoint, Mag had moved and he had liked the remoteness of the cabin. Only he, The Last Riders, and the Porters even knew the cabin was back this far in the woods. It was off the grid with two generators as back-up, well water, and propane for the stove and water heater. It had two bedrooms and a loft that held several bunk beds.

  Cash was flipping the fish over when the Porters returned. After everyone washed up, they ate. The night dragged on while they played game after game of poker, which he lost.

  Tate leaned forward to pull the last of his money toward him.

  “I guess that’s it for me tonight.” Cash threw the cards down onto the table.

  Greer smirked while Tate stared at him. “Sure you don’t want to play another game?” Tate asked, dealing out the cards.

  “I’m sure. I’ll do the dishes.”

  Greer opened his mouth, but Tate shot him a quelling look.

  “I was beginning to wonder how long you were going to let us take your money.”

  Cash hesitated in getting up. “What?”

  “You heard me.” Tate didn’t look down at his cards; instead, he stared directly into his eyes. “Is five hundred all you think my sister’s worth?”

  “No, but it’s all I brought with me.” Cash’s hands clenched into fists.

  Tate’s lips quirked. “Smart answer.”

 

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