Absolute Valor (Southern Justice #3)

by Cayce Poponea

  “Motherfucker,” echoed in my headset as I used my own momentum to jump on the back of the bike. I know it was wrong, but oh my Lord it felt good to go against a man for once.

  The highway was a flutter of activity, cars were being routed to the extreme left lane, while exists and on ramps were blocked. As we reached a stretch of highway north of Savannah, I heard a number of beeps in my ear followed by the music I had chosen, fading until it was silent. “Sweetness, the next time you want to stick your hand in my pants, let’s not do it with my parents standing in the same parking lot, okay?” My music came back on, embarrassment reared its ugly head, bringing along its two friends regret and tears. I had been wrong, my revenge on him had not been worth feeling this way.

  For the next fifteen minutes, I concentrated on the patch of skin between his helmet and the top of his collar. Several lines of his tattoo dived in and out of the space, giving no clue to the art his shirt covered. I made sure the mute button was engaged and the sun shield pulled down over my face before I let the tears flow. Years of living with Lucas had taught me how to cry in silence, allowing the hurt to flow with the tears, leaving me cold and alone.

  Hearing the beeps again, I cringe at what he would have to say next, but the voice in my helmet belongs to Claire. “Hey girl, you okay over there?”

  I swallowed hard, and I mean as hard as I could, my crying spell far from over. Turning to my left, I see Dylan’s bike pulled along side. “Y-yes, I’m okay. Just enjoying the ride.” My voice was shaky; even I could hear the quivering.

  Chase turned to look at Dylan who shook his head and made several hand gestures. “You haven’t moved in quite a while, you had me worried.” It was both strange and completely cool to see Claire, and also hear her while we screamed down the road. I marveled at her confidence, how she was able to overlook the way Dylan used to be, and love him with her whole heart now.

  “Just listening to music, guess I got caught up in the lyrics.” I fake laughed, knowing something was up when Chase started moving his head from side to side and the engine of the bike downshifted.

  “Dylan says we’re stopping for lunch up ahead.”

  I was a master at silent crying, able to let the tears fall into silent puddles on my pillow or sleeve. Yet, I was completely helpless to the blotchiness my cheeks and eyes took on as a result. If the wind was cool enough, perhaps it would decrease the redness. I flipped up the shield, enough to let a steady stream of air into my helmet, the whistling of the rapidly filling space giving me a headache.

  Pulling off the interstate, I saw several large white tents stood erect in a massive parking lot. I felt a tapping at my shin by Chase, followed by a hard squeeze, and then it was gone. Dean pulled into the lot directly behind the Georgia State Patrol, as the parking attendants assisted the line of bikes to park in an organized manner.

  I jumped down the second the engine shut off, having pulled the zipper of my jacket and helmet strap the second it was safe. Finding the first attendant I could, I politely asked where the bathrooms were located. With a direction in mind, I took off in a run, desperate to find a private space where I could get myself together. I had a feeling my rushing would appear as if I needed to go to the bathroom really bad. I didn’t care, let them laugh, I was used to being a source of entertainment.

  Three rows of trailer style portable bathrooms bordered the tree line. Sprinting up the stairs of the first one I came to, I pulled the door open as if I really was about to pee my pants. Inside was air-conditioned and nicer than most bathrooms found in some regular houses. Six closed door stalls awaited me as I grabbed a washcloth from the counter, ran it under the cold water, and then locked the door behind me.

  I hated crying, the entire process was pointless, but as I sat on the closed seat of the toilet, a wet washcloth draped over my eyes and face, I leaned my head back and let it happen. I didn’t hide the sobs as they left my chest, or try to cover up the unmistakable sound they bring out of you. I listened as other ladies filled the trailer, sharing stories of various things happening outside. According to several, Dean and Priscilla had arranged for lunch. Apparently I had missed the smell of the pit barbeques swirling in the air.

  “She looks at him one more time and I’m gonna snatch her baldheaded.” The voice belonged to an angry and frustrated woman, she had to be in her twenties. “I don’t care if I never get invited to another Morgan event, I ain’t gotta put up with some redheaded harlot batting her eyes at my boyfriend.”

  Gossip can be dangerous, and sobering. A quick cure to the crying jag I had been partaking in. “Jessie, why are you so mad? Aiden is a handsome guy and girls are gonna look at him. Instead of threatening bodily harm to some girl he cares nothing about, you should be doing everything you can to make him happy to be with you.”

  I tuned out the rest of what they had to say, my feeling of utter stupidity overshadowing the earlier embarrassment. Chase Morgan may be a skilled Marine, full of knowledge and experience, but he was still just a man. One who had reacted to something I did. It was time to quit living my life in the shadow of men.

  The rumors were right, the smell of the pit was mouthwatering and waiting to greet me, along with a stern looking Priscilla Morgan. Her beauty and charm were like the tricks they use during a scary movie; building up the music and darkness until you piss your pants in fear only to have the danger nonexistent.

  “Audrey, what did my son do?” Hearing the firmness and disappointment in her voice had me cringing. “Nothing, why do you ask?” I tossed back at her, an attempt to turn this off me.

  “Then why the camp out in the bathroom? You bolted over here as if the devil himself was chasing you.” Lainie and Claire took notice of the two of us standing there and flanked Priscilla on each side.

  “Well, I didn’t use the bathroom back in Charleston.” I started.

  “And you didn’t buy anything to drink either.” She countered with a raised eyebrow.

  “I may not have used Chase’s money to purchase a drink, but I did take advantage of the water fountain they had next to the bathroom.”

  All three burst into laughter, leaning on one another in an attempt to hold each other up. “Oh man, you’ve got Chase about to pull his hair out ‘cause Dylan told him you were crying.” Lainie chimed in, wiping her eyes of the running mascara. “He’s been on the phone trying to find a florist who will deliver to an open parking lot.” Priscilla laughed harder, her tears of joy not touching the makeup she wore so well.

  “Why?” I asked flatly.

  Just as the conversation in the bathroom had given me clarity, my question did the same for the laughing trio. “Oh, Audrey. My boys have been raised by two southern gentlemen, who were schooled in the belief, if your girl is crying, it’s usually your fault. He has a need to fix what he did, or at least what he thinks he did.”

  Shaking my head in disbelief, a lie developed on my tongue. “I wasn’t crying, the sun is high in the sky and combined with the humidity and the music, I may have drifted off to sleep. I drank a fair amount of water at the last stop and I needed to use the ladies room. Since it’s hotter than a two-dollar pistol out here, I stayed in the air-conditioning to get cooled off. So can somebody tell him flowers are for wedding and funerals and since neither is going on out here, put his phone away and let’s eat? ”

  Music blared from a stage at the end of the lot. A band had set up in the time I took to cool off and get myself together. Weaving through the crowd, I spotted the four Morgan men at the edge of a tent, each with a drink in hand except for Chase. His arms were crossed against his chest as he looked blankly into the crowd, nodding his head to whatever Austin was saying.

  “Over here, Audrey.” Claire tugged on my shirt from behind. “We have a table already to go.”

  Sure enough, beside one of the small trailers was a table shaded by the trees along the back. Following the girls over, I took a seat as a man wearing an apron placed a covered dish in front of me. Pulling back the foil, my
stomach rumbling from the full plate before me. The music stopped and an announcer spoke into the microphone, thanking everyone for making the ride a success, which confused me, I thought we were going to Florida.

  “Lainie,” I whispered, “What happened to going to Florida? That guy made it sound like this was the end.”

  She leaned back to me. “We,” she pointed to the table, “are going to Florida, a side bargain Priscilla got out of the deal.”

  Tucking back into my plate, the slices of brisket were calling my name. I loved barbeque; so much so it was a good thing I couldn’t afford it. I was like a dog that would rather have their stomach burst than to stop eating the stuff. After the Morgans were thanked again for the generosity of this party, Dean and Priscilla took the mic, the three boys behind them, sharing how much her daddy would have loved this.

  “Audrey, I’m sorry. I swore to Priscilla I wouldn’t bring this up, but I have to know.” Lainie looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was looking. “Why were your hands down Chase’s pants in broad daylight?” Her eyes were wild with wonderment, but her voice was low as if she were sharing trade secrets.

  Wiping my face with my napkin, I washed my mouth clean with a drink from my cup. “At the gas station, Chase asked me to get him something from inside. He gave me way too much money and wouldn’t take it back when I tried to return it—said it was a handling fee or something. So I tricked him into thinking he was helping me back on the bike and slipped it into his pants instead.”

  Claire cracked a smile as she turned to Lainie, “It’s you and Austin all over again.”

  Lainie tossed her a look of disbelief, slamming her hand on the table as she turned to face her. “Me? I wasn’t the one who sat in my living room thinking my boyfriend was cheating on me with a woman old enough to be his mother!”

  Claire jumped back in her seat, “I saw them hugging! What was I supposed to think? He had a reputation at the time. Besides I was talking about how you had Austin thinking you were this gold digging high school dropout instead of a well versed computer genius.”

  Knowing both stories, and frankly not caring, I turned back to the slab of smoked ribs. “With Chase and Audrey, he is boots over Stetsons and she is in denial. Just like you and Austin.” The two looked at one another, then turned to me, rib between my fingers and a mouth full of smoked goodness.

  “She’s right, you know. He is all puppy eyes for you, and I can imagine what you’re thinking cause it would be what I would be thinking, too. Take my advice, let him take care of you—”

  Sick of the direction this was headed, I interrupted her. “First, you don’t know what I’m thinking. You have no clue about me, or what I am about. I don’t want or need to be taken care of. I’m not going to take money from a man I didn’t truly earn, because they always keep score on what they’ve done for you. Dylan and Chase are the owners where I work, a job I really need, so I would like to keep things clean and not muddy those waters. He ended a relationship where the girl turned out to be a psychotic and a thief. The last thing he is gonna want is another girl. Besides,” I waved my hand, “I’m as country as corn flakes. What kind of interest could a man like Chase have in me anyway?” I looked back to the pair. Their attention was no longer on my face, but above and behind me.

  “Hey, Sweetness.” Chase pulled the chair to my left out, spun it around, and then fluidly poured his body into the space. With his left side tucked into the table, his right arm halfway between the two of us, confused eyes pleaded with mine. “Care to take a walk with me?”

  Agreeing to, what could possibly be the most uncomfortable conversation I’ve ever had, I stood from my chair. Chase stands from his seat, his brothers silent as they embrace each girl, and I know this isn’t going to go in my favor. “We’ll meet you guys in say…twenty minutes.” Chase tossed over his shoulder.

  I haven’t been this close to Savannah since the night my parents died and Granny drove down to get me. I’d never ventured on this side of the highway. Nothing over here for a young girl less than eighteen, unless you wanted to get into trouble with the truckers blowing through. Chase takes my hand, using the tips of his fingers first, to test the waters—or poke fun of me—either way, we’d find out soon enough. When he intertwines our hands, I want to assume it is because he wants me close. But I believe what I told the girls back there, I’m too ordinary, and carry too much baggage for a guy like this—one who is dealing with his own set of demons.

  “Did you have any pets when you was growing up, Audrey?” His focus was on the cement of the parking lot, and how his shoes worked to meet it. The hand not holding mine is in his pocket, buried all the way up to the middle of his wrist.

  “No,” I shake my head. “We barely had money to feed ourselves, much less a dog or cat.”

  Chase nodded his head, his face turned slightly in my direction, those eyes still confused. “Well we had a number of pets over the years. Matter of fact, we had this old bloodhound, Skeeter. Now, Skeeter was the runt of the litter when our neighbor was breeding his hounds for hunting dogs. Daddy would let us ride over to the barn where the puppies were kept, and we all fell in love with this tiny critter. After all the others were sold, Daddy went over and got the dog for us. Skeeter followed us everywhere we went. If Momma wanted one of us for something, she would send the dog after us. One afternoon, Momma had some ladies from the church over to discuss whatever it is you ladies discuss. Anyway, there was something that either fell or she couldn’t reach, so she sent Skeeter to find Dylan, only the dog had other plans. See, one of those ladies was the neighbor’s wife, and their female dog was in heat. Skeeter got a whiff of the dog’s scent on her, knocked the lady over, and proceeded to hump the poor woman’s legs.”

  My hand slapped over my mouth, eyes wide. “No!”

  Chase smiles at the memory, “Oh, yes. With Skeeter being a full grown dog, it took several people to pull him off her, but not before he left a gift all over her black slacks.”

  I can picture this large floppy eared dog tackling this frail older lady, her flowered hat tumbling across the carpet as this mammoth dog begins thrusting on her. “That poor lady.” I offer.

  “Oh, she was fine. I laughed the whole time it was happening. My Momma on the other hand cried for days out of embarrassment.”

  Pulling me to a stop, I noticed we were far enough away from all the activity and no one could hear us. “I need to apologize to you. Being brought up by two strong male influences has made me into the man who stands before you. I’m tough when I need to be, and gentle when the moment calls for it. What I am not, is a man who steps in where I’m not wanted. I’ve spent the last…too damn long, trying to push myself into your life.”

  Standing face to face, his hands are at his side as he takes in a deep breath. “I know I made you cry today, I could hear your sniffles, and saw how blotchy your face got until you pulled down your visor. I’m sorry for hurting you and if you still have feelings for Lucas, I swear I will try and stand back.” Adjusting his feet, he steps closer as he reaches up with his hands, taking my face between his palms. “But if you’re free from him, and can accept my apology, then I’d like to see how happy I can make you.”

  The best relationships are the ones you didn’t expect to be in, the ones you never saw coming.

  —Unknown

  “I’m not with Lucas in the sense we are in love, or even a traditional couple. He and I have never exchanged those words, he wouldn’t have meant them if he had. Lucas is the type of man who when he has a need, he takes care of it. I’m more selective and still want to believe in the fantasy of a white picket fence and loving husband.” Audrey took a deep breath as she turned her face away from mine, looked out into the open parking lot, shakes her head, and then looks back at me.

  “Yes, I was crying, but not because of something you did…well not entirely. I didn’t feel comfortable keeping the money. I didn’t earn it, and I would have worried what it was going to cost me in the long run
.” Her eyes plead with me to understand where she was coming from. A part of me does, but the core of me, the side where I can’t let a lady open her own door or buy her own lunch, is protesting for me to tell her we can’t stop being who we are.

  “Audrey, let me ask you somethin’.” I returned the look she gave me seconds ago. “You seem to stand pretty firm on how you want to take care of yourself, worried about the underlying motives of kindness. Clearly this comes from your upbringing; somethin’, or someone, taught you to feel this strongly about it.” She glanced to the ground and back to me, nodding her head in agreement. “It’s the same for me when I’m trying to take care of you, my momma, or any other lady I have in my life. It’s a part of me, just like taking care of yourself is a part of you. Question is,” I placed my thumb alongside her jaw. “How do we balance the two and make us work.”

  Her eyes are full of doubt, and something tells me Audrey Helms is a show-me type of girl. She may not be in a relationship with this fuck stick Lucas, but he has damaged her and made her believe some bullshit he concocted to make himself feel better. Motherfucker better believe if I catch his ass on the street, it won’t be pretty.

  “How about we start with you letting me buy you dinner tonight? No strings, no expectations, only a platform so I can tell you the story behind the necklace you’re wearing.” I can see the wheels turning in her head with the way her eyes were flicking back and forth. She is waiting for the court jester to come out and laugh, to tell her she’s on one of those reality shows. “It’s against my better judgment, but I’ll even take you to one of those chain places, not spending more than what you shoved back at me.” I grinned, tapping the place in my pants where the cash still sits after she shoved it there earlier. Audrey tries hard not to smile, dropping her eyes as she shakes her head back and forth. Lowering myself so as she can’t avoid me, I meet her eyes. “Is that a yes?” I pull her hands toward me, my body still lowered to her eye level.