Absolute Valor (Southern Justice #3)

by Cayce Poponea

  Growing up with nothing, our neighbors made it their jobs to save us from the sins they figured caused us to become so poor. Preaching to my momma if she would just hand everything over to prayer, then they would vanish like the fog in the morning.

  During the Christmas season they rallied around, putting our names in the mouths of every charity in the city. Food baskets, generic gifts and promises to keep us in their prayers came every year. Yet no matter how much time Momma spent at her bedside with her hands clasped and her eyes closed tight, her prayers were never answered. Just like the sweater, we remained unchanged—poor, with no hope of the better tomorrow everyone swore would come.

  When I had to go live with Granny Netti, she was of a firmer belief, one where you prayed as thanks for what you had. She lived in the promise that sometimes you’ve got to get off your knees and get busy with the hands God gave you. “Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day, teach him to fish and you’ve fed him for the remainder of his days.”

  All those years, she’d showed me how much I didn’t matter to her, but in the end she showed me how to take care of myself. She bitterly spoke of me being like a mosquito on the butt of society, leaving behind nothing more than a pain in the ass.

  When I secured my first full time job, Granny’s words rang true in my ear, reminding me to be productive and not bothersome.

  Saint Patrick’s Catholic Church, one of the charity’s who stepped in to help, paid our electric bill so we could have heat during the coldest months of the year. With every paycheck I received, I took twenty dollars, placed it in the return envelope for the electric company, so when Christmas time came around, I could take the envelope, climb the steep steps and shimmy the envelope under the massive wooden doors.

  Now, I would do something for the Morgan family before I left, letting them know about some of the people they trusted. As I laid on the cool floor of the closet, not minding the hard surface of the wood beneath me, I sent up silent prayer of thanks for sending the family my way, especially Chase. I only hoped he wouldn’t hate me too much, when I told him the truth.

  Time and tide wait for no man.

  — St Marher in 1225

  “Oh, fuck yes, just like that.” I imagined her kneeling before me, her hair slicked back from the water raining down. Pale skin glistening from the water, caressing the girl I dreamed of touching.

  “Mmm, yes baby. Shit you feel good.” I stroked my cock, using the water to glide gently against the sensitive skin, wishing like hell it was the moisture from her mouth instead.

  “Motherfucking…” Release was always the goal, making myself feel the euphoria the endorphins brought. Gone was the guilt I felt the first time I called out her name. Now, it resonated off my shower walls in familiar tones, as if her name should have been here all along. “…Audrey!”

  Jacking off was a rite of passage in most young men’s lives. Discovering how good it felt to have a firm hand wrapped around your cock, the pressure building like a tidal wave until it crashes down around you, leaving your body relaxed and calm. As we grow older, our hand is exchanged for a smaller one, a beautiful set of fingers attached to a girl you’d found eyes for.

  In the desert, you learned to be quiet while releasing the pressure built up inside, as the man you patrolled with all day sleeps soundly beside you, having relieved himself before he nodded off. I’ve met a few guys who were above touching themselves; being told it was wrong or cheating. Every single one of them ended up in medical, their balls swollen and painful. Doc would tell them to find a quiet spot and take care of it. They all learned sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands.

  With my wet hand, I wiped the fog created from the steam of my shower off my mirror. A pattern of scruff was emerging on my chin. I had no real reason to shave today, no corporate meetings or uniform inspections. Running a hand over the prickly hair and turning my face from side to side, I wondered if Audrey would like a little scruff?

  “Fuck!” Not only was she commanding my self-love in the shower, she’s taking over the rest of my day. Maybe my desire to keep her protected had leaked deeper into my mind than I was giving credit. I needed to talk to Harmony; renew my devotion to her, assure her, and myself, this relationship was strong. I dialed her number, my anger renewing as, once again, I got her voicemail. Why the fuck hadn’t I insisted on putting her on my fucking plan?

  “Hey, Baby.” Cringing as I used the same term of endearment to Harmony as I had for Audrey in the shower; the two women were different as night and day. Harmony centered herself around her looks being perfect, including frequent trips to the salon and an almost unhealthy obsession with her smile. Our bathroom drawers were filled with gallons of makeup and hair care products. The vanity had three different brands of toothpaste alongside countless designs of toothbrushes. Audrey seemed so much simpler. I couldn’t recall her applying even a swipe of cheap lip balm or spraying any perfume. She always had her lavender sweater wrapped around her, as if it were a shield from the world. But there was a kindness and gentleness I found when I looked into her eyes. She possessed such a genuineness deep into her soul, it resonated through the hazel of her eyes.

  “God, I wish I could talk with you.” I jammed my hand into the crown of my head, my wet hair separating between my fingers. “I would love to see you, but I know being with your family is pretty important.” Walking to the window, I stared at the view of the fountain Harmony squealed about when she first saw this condo. What was the view Audrey saw every morning? Did she have a garden outside of her trailer? Or did she wake up to the same loneliness I did?

  “I told you about the bike run later today and this weekend we plan to make it to Florida by Saturday mid-day, but if you get the chance, please call me. I—” Feeling the dread creep into my throat, the distance created shadows of doubt I didn’t want to face. “I miss you. So yeah, I’ll be on the bike, but I’ll have my phone on me. ”

  Tossing my phone to the bed behind me, I didn’t care if it landed on the mattress or the floor. I watched as the leaves on the trees danced in the morning breeze. I picked apart every message I’d left Harmony, realizing I was sounding more and more desperate with each voicemail I left. “Fuck me.” I’d told her I would be leaving tonight, but it was Thursday and the run didn’t start until Saturday. “Oh, well, she hasn’t called me back anyway.”

  “I’m giving Audrey tomorrow and the weekend off, with pay.” Dylan admitted as he wiped the chrome on his bike. “No need for her to be in here when she could be enjoying our time away on her own.”

  Dylan and Austin were taking Claire and Lainie on the run. Momma had already been coordinating hotels and places to eat along the way. None of us wanted to remind her this was the type of event where we ate in out of the way bars. The types that were so rough looking you made sure your tetanus shot was up to date.

  “Have you told her yet?” I was organizing the already pristine tool drawers, busy work to keep my focus away from the beautiful brunette in the front office. When I arrived that morning, Audrey looked like she had returned from a long vacation. Her skin bright and her eyes shining, she also had the coffee brewing and breakfast for both Dylan and I sitting on the table. I think I even heard her humming.

  “No, I wanted to tell you first, make sure you didn’t have anything planned for her.” Dylan didn’t look at me or stop what he was doing. But I suspected he was waiting for me to say something about her.

  “She’s your employee, so do as you like.” I tried to sound as detached as possible, hoping Dylan was too distracted with the thought of having Claire wrapped around him later.

  “Last time I checked, you owned thirty- three percent of this company, so she is as much your employee as she is mine. Besides, I half expected you to invite her to ride on the back of your bike.” This time he did stop and turned his head to face me, blue eyes challenging blue eyes. “Don’t fucking deny you haven’t thought about it.”

  Riding home after punching the sh
it out of Lucas was the first time I thought about what it would feel like to have Audrey on the back of my bike. Wondering how her tits would feel pressed against my back as I charged down the highway. I imagined pulling off the road onto my property, showing her the oak trees I pictured building a treehouse in one day. The house I had hired a contractor to build, something I hadn’t even shared with Harmony.

  “Chase, sometimes we have to accept what people are telling us, even if nothing is coming out of their mouth. Now, I’m gonna go tell Audrey she is getting a three day weekend. Maybe you can pull your dick out of your own ass and see if she wants to come along.”

  Dylan folded the towel he used, and then tossed it into the laundry hamper in the corner. I watched as he leaned into the front office and asked Audrey to come to his office. The color left her face as if she had done something wrong. “Pick your lip up girl, you ain’t in trouble.” He called from his office.

  As soon as she closed the door, I caught sight of my guitar hanging on the front wall. The aged wood of the body reminded me of the day Granddaddy showed it to me, the autograph catching my attention. Momma didn’t want me to touch it, said it was meant to be put under glass and preserved.

  “Oh, Cilla. It may have the signature of a famous man on it, but it’s only ink. The man who made this guitar meant for it to be enjoyed, and that is exactly what we’re going to do with it.” Granddaddy sat with me in the afternoons, showing me how to place my fingers and read the notes on the page. He told me if I wanted the music to sound sweet, I would have to practice. Sometimes he would join me on another guitar he owned, always insisting I used the one Johnny Cash had signed. When Nana called me over after he passed, she insisted the guitar had always been mine and I should keep the memories alive by continuing to play.

  All these years later, the notes come natural. I no longer have to watch my fingers press the right strings to make the note I want. I’m still able to lose myself in the melody, which filled the room. Morrison’s masterpiece, Brown Eyed Girl, which some say described anal sex, for me, represented a day spent with a girl, having time to be carefree and enjoy life. Something I haven’t been able to do in a long time.

  I’d assumed coming home would mean falling into the comfort I felt growing up, but more than just my maturity had changed. This wasn’t the same place I’d once called home. It, like me, had become better. As I let the final note of the song fade into the stillness of the room, a tiny voice, so soft I could have imagined it, whispered, “Wow.”

  Training my attention in the direction of the voice, an awestruck Audrey stood like a dream in the center of the room. Her long brown hair was always pulled half back, and her eyes were so big and bright, I could lose myself in them for days. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, it’s just—”

  Shaking my head, I reached out to pat the leather seat beside me. “Sweetness, this is your office, I’m the one who moved in and took over. Come sit with me.”

  I hadn’t meant to call her sweetness, but the words fell from my lips before I could consider the implications. It caught her off guard, which was evident by the flash in her eyes and the hard swallow in her throat. Approaching like a cat circling a sleeping dog, she came over and sat on the edge of the leather.

  “Please, don’t stop.” Her voice stirred something deep in me, emotions which were foreign, not just carnal need or sense of duty, but a craving so fierce I wasn’t certain if I could control it. I knew I needed to get ahold of myself before I chased her away, which would only serve to piss off my brothers, and leave me with an emptiness I wasn’t certain I could fill.

  “When Dylan asked me to unpack your boxes, I nearly dropped this when I saw the signature.” Her fingers twisting in her lap, a habit I, too had, when I became nervous. “I had to ask him three times if he was sure you wouldn’t want it displayed in the back office or even at your home.”

  I imagined how awkward this guitar would look on the wall of my condo. I had assumed when I rented the condo for Harmony, she would have gone crazy with paint and wallpaper, but she hadn’t. The same builder, boring white walls still looked hard at me every morning. Taunting me, this was as far as I would ever get with her, a lease with her name on it and no real sign she lived there.

  “You know, I wished I would have had this when I was in Afghanistan.” I took the conversation three thousand miles away, into much safer territory. “When we would do routine patrols, these kids would come running from out of thin air, begging us for chocolate and pens. Bick, bick they would chant.” My fingers were strumming a random tune, notes which seemed to blend together.

  “Chocolate? In the desert?” Audrey’s surprised tone makes me smile. When I asked my Momma to send me as much chocolate and pens as she could, she asked me the same question. Of course, when the seven boxes arrived, my Lieutenant told me to share them with my fellow Marines or toss them, but not to give them to the kids.

  “Oh, yes,” I nodded my head. “See, the United States has occupied Afghanistan since the early two thousands, but the Russians were there way back in the nineteen eighties, leaving behind many blonde haired children in their efforts to help the people there.” Audrey’s eyes grew larger, and then headed south again, to her hands in her lap.

  “Seems like no matter where you’re from, shirking your responsibilities is normal.” It was slight, and she tried to hide it, but there was something deeper in her words than just an observation.

  “Did you take lessons?” Her recovery almost flawless, as Miss Audrey is also a master of diversion. “Or was this something you taught yourself?”

  “A little of both.” I admitted, willing to play her game and return the courtesy. “When my Granddaddy was alive, he and I spent time together by playing. He taught me the basics. What he didn’t show me, I managed to pick up on my own.” Our eyes meet by accident, though neither one of us appeared to want the moment to end.

  “Well, you make it look easy. I expect you’re one of those people who comes about this naturally, like those folks who can play by ear.” Rising from the couch, Audrey speaks over her shoulder. “Dylan says I have the next few days off while y’all have your trip.”

  I’m about to ask her to come with me, ride on the back of my bike, but I know if I do, it had the potential to change things between us. There was also the matter of my relationship with Harmony. As badly as I wanted to have her with me, Dylan was right, sometimes people speak louder without uttering a single word.

  Returning the guitar to the rack on the wall, I head toward the door. “Audrey, tell Dylan I’ll be back later, I’ve got to go talk to somebody.”

  Forty minutes later, I sat on the freshly cut grass where we buried both Nana and Granddaddy. A massive marble headstone gleamed in the setting sun. Two smiling faces greeted me back behind glass frames Momma insisted on having installed. When she came out here to talk with her parents, she wanted to see their faces the way she remembered them.

  I grabbed the pint of Hennessy I had dangling in my hand on the way over. This is how we always had discussions that involved matters of either the heart, or life changing events.

  “I brought the Hennessey, so you know this is serious.” A robin flew from one tree to another, its wings rustling the leaves. “I know I don’t have to tell you what’s going on, you’ve been watching everything from where you are.” Thinking of the arguments between me and my brothers, and my accusing them of all sorts of things.

  “I know you ain’t proud of me right now. Hell, I ain’t real happy with myself either.” I tossed the bottle into the blades of grass at my feet, resting my elbows on the tops of my knees.

  “They keep telling me Harmony is doing all of these things, and I don’t want to believe them. I’m trying to do as you say Nana, and see the good in everyone. But then…”

  Shaking my head, I turn my attention to the final rays of the setting sun. “But then Audrey came along. Such a timid little thing with so much life in her eyes, and just as much pain res
ting there; too. And I want to save her, Granddaddy. I want to wrap her up in my arms and kick every motherfucker’s ass who put that fucking pain in her eyes.” Taking in a deep breath, I swallowed the anger which percolated every time I thought about Lucas and the way he hit her.

  “Sorry, Nana. I know you don’t like for us to swear, but sometimes it’s better than punching what makes you angry.”

  I let the quiet of the ending day take over, bringing with it a realization of sorts. As the night took over and the sounds of the South Carolina summer lullaby began to play, I stretched out, letting my back hit the grass behind me, stretching my hands to my side, and letting my mind settle the battle it had with my heart.

  “I’m starting to think they’re right.” Somehow, admitting it out loud made it more real. “I’ve tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, but it’s been ten days since she left, with no call or nothing. And you have always said, go with your gut.”

  When the chiggers began to bite, I lifted myself back up, my arms meeting the tops of my knees again. “You’d like Audrey, Nana. She’s a lot like you, making sure everyone else is taken care of before she does anything for herself.” A smile crossed my face as I spoke her name. “She’s witty like you, Granddaddy, has the same way of putting a spin on what she says.”

  I tried hard to think of how to describe Harmony, the good in her harder to find. “Harmony is a great girl, too. She befriended me when I needed someone to talk to at a time when I couldn’t tell Momma and Daddy what I was doing over there.” Her first email came after I had returned from overwatch, when Havoc was shot in the chest. I’d been unable to explain to Austin and Dylan why I wanted to be with her, choosing instead to become defensive, and allow a crack in the bond we’ve had for years.