Momma and Nana had worked for two days to make one thousand cookies. The ladies of the church had taken orders from all over the state. Matthew Bates lived up the road—he was a few years older than Dylan, but the two didn’t get along. Daddy hired him to help build a pen to put the goats in. When Austin and I went out to see the goats, one of them head butted me, scaring the piss out of me. Matthew laughed and said the only way to make a goat like you was to feed him something sweet. Austin and I ran back in the house, collecting as many bags of the cookies as we could and ran back out to the pen. For almost half an hour, we fed cookies to those goats. After they were gone, I opened the pen to see if the goats would play with me. Instead of standing still for me, all forty of them rushed past, heading straight for the flower beds momma worked hard on. The amount of sugar and levels of chocolate made those goats so sick they started vomiting and shitting all over the flowers, the walkway, and momma’s front steps—practically everywhere. Our old dog, Buster, who happened to be the biggest chicken any dog has ever seen, pushed open the front door and ran inside. Unfortunately, so did the goats, who headed straight for the kitchen. By the time Dylan and Daddy got all the goats out of the house, not a single cookie remained.
“You and I made a pact to never tell it was us who started the whole thing.” Austin nodded, his eyes showing once again the respect he held for me. “I never told, even when you made me angry the next summer. I kept my word as your brother to keep our secret.” Pulling him in for a hug, I slapped his back three times. “Girls are gonna come and go, but you will always be my brother.”
Dylan stood off in the corner, his cell to his ear as he spoke animatedly to whomever was on the other end. Momma knelt at the foot of the couch, her soothing words bringing a teary smile and repeated nodding from Audrey. “Hey, you okay?” Claire wrapped her arms around my deltoid, pulling my attention to her bright face.
“I’m trying to catalog everything, figure out what to do with it all.” I admitted, attempting to balance my attention between Claire and Audrey.
“Well, why don’t you start by reassuring the brave young woman sitting over there, who’s terrified she is about to lose her job, since she was in the office after hours, in her pajamas.” Standing up a little straighter, I took a harder look at Audrey. Sure as shit, she was sitting in a blue night shirt, two little lambs embroidered on the left pocket. I looked back at Claire, “Go on, make it right,” she whispered, squeezing the muscle on the underside of my arm.
Closing the distance toward her, I felt as if every eye was trained on me. Audrey wiped a tear from her cheek, while momma told her everything would be all right. “Hey,” I knelt beside momma, taking Audrey’s hand from her lap. I looked deep into the eyes I’ve fantasized about every morning since I’d met her. “Why are you cryin’, Sweetness?”
Audrey’s watery smile faded into a frown, a quivering chin stirred the need to make her smile again, “I’m so sorry. I should have told you the truth from the start. I could have prevented all of this.” Her words were spoken around broken sobs, her eyes half full of tears and her hands shaking.
“Audrey Helms, let me set you straight about a few things.” I grasped her hands tightly in mine, shaking them gently. “I am a prideful man, one who is head strong with beliefs given to him by some of the finest men this world has ever known. And as much as I respect them and would lay down my life for any of them, I chose to believe the word of a common whore.”
The whore herself showed the room she was offended and screamed for me to shut the fuck up. Without looking away from Audrey’s remorseful face, I hollered to my brother. “Dylan can you do something about the noise in here? We do have ladies present.” Audrey kept her eyes on mine, either too afraid, or having no desire to look away.
“Now, maybe you could have convinced me she was being dishonest, maybe you couldn’t. Either way, I believe you now.” Her shoulders relaxed slightly, but it wasn’t enough for me, and I knew it was nowhere near enough for momma, who was still sitting beside us.
“From what Virginia said, Lucas still has it out for me. He can certainly try and do something to hurt me, but I have my doubts he’ll be able to do much to me. However, it’s you I’m concerned with.” Her tongue slid out to moisten her lips, a part of her body I wanted to taste, to lose myself in for days.
“I have a proposition for you, Sweetness.” I let my words marinate out in the open, sweetening the reward I’m about to collect. “I’d like you to come with us, riding on the back of my bike this weekend in my Granddaddy’s memorial.”
“Never look back unless you are planning to go that way.”
—Henry David Thoreau
“You want me to ride along with you?” A million different scenarios flashed through my mind, competing for space within the chaos of clutter in my mind. He would regret offering to have me in such close proximity to him. I wanted to accept, to fulfill the multitude of day dreams I’ve had as I watched him ride away, of being the girl he whisks away for a better life. Looking into his hopeful eyes, I can almost believe he’s sincere.
“I do,” he paused, tilting his head slightly to the left, he inhaled a deep breath, and then blew every dream I’d ever had away. “It’s one of the many things on the list I want to do with you.”
A part of me, the side who still found joy in life, wanted to throw my arms around his neck, telling him exactly how much I wanted to not only go with him, but check off as many things as possible on his list. The other side, admittedly the more cynical and untrusting one, which spent the most time exposed to the real world, reminded me of my inability to understand the true meaning behind his words. Not to mention my harsh reality of not owning a single pair of jeans or any other items required to ride.
“While I appreciate the offer, I must decline.” I felt the spirited girl inside me who wanted to say yes, curl into herself, losing another grain of hope she’d gained by working here. I watched as his facial expression changed, morphing from compassionate with a splash of concern, to determined with a new mission.
“You have something better going on? Got a village of refugees you have to dig a well for?” I shook my head, feeling the edges of my anxiety becoming brittle. “You have a date with the Queen of England for high tea?” Priscilla smacked his chest, scolding him with a roll of her eyes and purse of her lips. “Sorry, Momma, but it could happen. Audrey may be the long lost daughter of an aristocrat and the Queen Mother found her and is going to turn her in for the reward.” This was my favorite side of Chase, the one who changed his voice as he told a story, teasing in a way no one could ever be offended.
“I’m sorry, Audrey, you’ll have to forgive my son. Chase has suffered brain damage at the hands of his brothers, or maybe it was the head butt he received from a wayward goat.” Chase hung his head, silently laughing as Dylan answered a call, excusing himself to the back. “My sons think their poor mother is oblivious to what they do, but I have my ways of finding things out.” Her words were an assurance this applied to more than the antics of young boys.
“You gonna tell me why you can’t come? Or are you gonna keep getting me in hot water with this beautiful woman here?” Chase tipped his head quickly in Priscilla’s direction.
By telling the truth about Virginia, I’d managed to back myself into a corner. I couldn’t turn back and lie to his face after what had happened. “It’s silly really,” I lowered my head. It had been a while since I was ashamed to admit something, hiding from the fears I stuffed in a wooden box, too frightened to face them head on. They would never go away if I continued to allow them to grow. “I don’t own a pair of jeans.”
When you’ve spent so many years assuming the world would end if you showed one spec of vulnerability, the truth, not the bullshit you convinced yourself of, is a slap upside the head of how stupid you have been. Chase didn’t laugh or point fingers at me. The room didn’t erupt in confusion or fall down around me. Chase waited as if there was more to what I had to say, when
it was evident my reason was so simple, he began. “Okay, what else?”
“What do you mean what else? I can’t get on the back of your bike in a skirt and tennis shoes.”
“Well you could, but I’d prefer you didn’t. We aren’t leaving at the butt crack of dawn, you have plenty of time to go buy a pair.” In Chase’s world my issue is simple; just jump in the car, drive to the store and get what you need. In my world, the one where I’m living in a closet, visiting a store is limited to groceries and spending less than five dollars while you’re there.
“Audrey?” Lainie calls from beside Austin, with a voice of salvation, knowing her background is the same as mine. “Heidi has gained a good amount of weight since she got her divorce. I know of at least three pairs of jeans she bought not long ago she can’t get into now.” I’m not above taking a life ring and allowing Lainie to save me from telling Chase I have to save every dime, I have to start my life over.
“Oh,” Priscilla broke in, “I almost forgot! I bought two jackets, I couldn’t decide which one I liked better. Since I’ve lost the receipt, they’ll just sit in my closet collecting dust.” Priscilla may have grown up with a silver spoon in her mouth, but her heart is made of pure gold. I wouldn’t question her motives or call her out on the lie she told. Dean took care of his wife—money wasn’t something she had to worry about or carry with her. I’d be surprised if she really knew what a receipt looked like.
“As far as a helmet, I’ll distract Dylan long enough for you to grab one he has in stock.” Claire winked as she spoke loud enough for the man himself to turn around and give her a two-finger salute, still talking with whomever he had on the phone. I appreciated where Claire was coming from, but I knew how much those little bastard’s cost.
“So, there you have it. Clothes and a brain bucket to protect your pretty head, any other issues we can fix for you?”
Oh, Chase, if you only knew the trouble I had hidden in places I didn’t know how to find. The secrets I have to keep so they stay safely hidden. The solution is so much bigger than a trip to a store or a new jacket. The largest issue I have, is connected with the con-artist who has been sobbing like a baby since she heard Dean mentioned the word Federal. So much for her threats of telling Lucas where I am, he would rather die than step foot anywhere near the county jail.
“So it’s settled, you will come with us, enjoying a weekend get away with three handsome men and one old dude, who has enough money to attract a smoking hot momma like Priscilla Morgan.” Dean stood in the doorway, glancing up briefly from his phone in Chase’s direction. “You forget who had money first, young man. I won your Momma with my good looks and ability to make her smile.”
“Dean,” Priscilla chastised.
“What? Cilla they are all grown men, with healthy sexual appetites.”
Austin moved forward, his hands raised in defense, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Please, for the love of all that’s holy, stop talking about sex and momma in the same sentence.”
Chase closed his eyes and shook his head, “Dude, how the heck do you think you’re even standing here? Immaculate conception?” What a joy to know the Morgan brothers considered themselves blood related. There were no pieces of paper signed by a judge separating them from a special bond. “Cause you sure as shit ain’t Jesus.” My eyes resembled Claire’s as the two brothers gave each other a look, still not accustomed to the brash way they spoke around their parents.
“I’ve been called God a few times.” Austin shot back, nudging the arm of Lainie, causing her cheeks to pink up.
“Anyway,” Chase retorted, extending the word out in emphasis. “Since we have established the possibility of our parents bumping uglies, can I ask Audrey a question now?”
I was so relieved this incident had not resulted in my losing my job, I let the happiness flow from every pore. “Sure, what’s your question?”
“Why are you in the office,” he looked to his watch, “at eleven at night, wearing your pajamas?” His fingers gently ruffled the edge of my sleep shirt, a gift I’d gotten from a nurse at the hospital, a stuffed lamb matching the ones on the pocket came with it. I tried hard not to think of where the little lamb was right now. I had tucked it away, having never worn anything like this with Lucas in the house, he would use the juvenileness of it to make fun of me.
Fear can be the biggest blindfold in the creating of an alibi. When I heard Ginny trying to steal the guitar, I forgot the state of dress I was in, choosing to charge out and stop her, instead of changing into street clothes. I wouldn’t regret my decision; it brought too much good with it, making a family whole again.
“Before I answer, I need you to know if you want to take back your offer of me going tomorrow, I won’t be mad.” I searched his face before I opened the proverbial can of worms. “My electric bill got too high for me to pay, so they turned off the service. With no electricity, Lucas stays away, which is a positive, but the air conditioning doesn’t work, which has gotten to be a big negative. When I was organizing the back room, I found a door for under the steps. Even with the size, I knew I could hide, so I cleaned it out and moved in.”
Anticipation is almost always worse than the actual event. Chase sat intently, his blue eyes flicking back and forth, processing my confession of poverty and in some circles, failure. Dylan’s conversation was suddenly audible, not because he had such a loud voice, although let’s be honest, he did. Only now, it was because of the silence in the room. Their shocked faces combined with the absence of the fan motor and the lack of white noise made the tension in the room quadruple.
Wordlessly, Chase stood from his seated position. With his back to me, the tip of another tattoo on his neck was uncovered by the tilting of his head toward the floor. I could spend years appreciating his body, imagining how his muscles would feel beneath my fingers. An inferno raged across my skin, as his breath traveled across the room, taking hold of my senses and causing me to lose what little control I had.
Standing like an angry mother about to correct a child, the thumb of his left hand was the only digit I could see from my position. A dull black watch band cut the monotony of tan skin on his arm. “Momma, I’d like Audrey to stay in my old room, at least until we can figure this out.”
I opened my mouth to interrupt, but the icy chill from the look Priscilla shot me pushed back any words of disagreement.
“Daddy, if you could call whomever you know in office and have them put a bug in the ear of all the judges in this state about the character of Virginia Greyson, even send over the long list of crimes she has committed. Although, something tells me you’ll have more to share than I’m willing to see right now.”
It’s the first time I’ve heard him say her real name without an ounce of emotion and my heart breaks for him. Such a strong and trusting man, giving his heart to someone who used it to steal from him. I know how he feels, having someone you trust with your soul take away something so precious, as if it was nothing more than a discarded candy wrapper.
“As soon as Dylan gets off the phone, we can coordinate getting Virginia behind bars.”
Turning around to face me, I expected to see the fire of rage in his eyes. Instead, I see the statue of a man who will step up and do what is right, not taking the easy path so many others would chose. His inner strength, contained deep in his core, was forged during his youth, and amplified as he grew and experienced the trials of life. Something passed between us, an understanding perhaps or maybe a truce. Whatever it is, I won’t argue. Tonight, I’ll allow him to fulfill his need to protect me, as he did the children who begged for chocolate.
The thump of Dylan’s boots against the tile floor made the air heavy, as he took on the same stance as his brother. Being the oldest, he conformed to the role of leader and protector, Dylan was used to taking over. Standing toe to toe, the once ready-made leader assumed care of this situation and came to the rescue of his youngest brother. “Major is sending over a unit to take her to county. I’ve requested Kenne
dy to be one of the officers; she’s familiar with…” Dylan nodded his head in Virginia’s direction.
“…Virginia.” Chase finished for him, nodding his head once in finality. “Career criminal and resident con-artist. I’ve got Dad working on his contacts. The last thing I want is some green skinned graduate trying to make a name for themselves. I want her staying in jail, no possibility of bonding her ass out.” With both hands firmly on his hips, Chase tips his head in my direction. “Audrey is going home with Momma, at least for tonight. I’ll figure out what to do with her after we get back on Sunday.” My presence in the room, or opinion, meant nothing. Chase had taken control, showing his brother he had a handle on this situation. “Lucas is still a wild card and I’m not willing to take a chance on him lurking in the shadows in search of her. With what I know now, the urgency to deal with him has risen.”
Rigid muscles flexed in Dylans arms, his jaw clenched as his eyes darted back and forth over Chase’s face. “Bonding out will be next to impossible for a wanted felon.” Dylan glanced away briefly, taking in the attendance in the room before continuing, “Among other things.”
Hot water rained down on me, an incredible feeling I’d lost when the hot water heater in the trailer, which was electric, lacked the necessary power to work. Where my shower was a tiny cubicle, the one Priscilla insisted was for my use as long as I stayed here, was like comparing apples to competition size pumpkins. Breathing the soft scent of the shampoo into my lungs, I allowed the floral undertones to chase away the stench of the day. Dylan’s inability to provide any further explanation of Virginia’s crimes gave me a chill I still couldn’t shake, even with the added benefit of heated wall tiles. My limited understanding of the law left me in the dark as to what she could have done to deserve the label of ‘felon’. As far as I knew, prostitution and drug possession were misdemeanors. I would let the heaviness of what happened die down a little before I asked Dylan what he meant by ‘other things’. I would listen as much as I could to the conversations held behind closed doors, where the truth is usually hidden.
Absolute Valor (Southern Justice #3) Page 8
