Guns & Smoke

by Lauren Sevier

  “Big, strong man like you...” The words fell from her lips slowly, seductively. “I bet you could do it in three.”

  The man’s friends whooped as Bonnie ran a finger down his chest. She pulled away, flashing that smile again.

  “Put your money up,” she said when the noise settled.

  “What?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

  “It’s a bet, right? Put your money up on the bar, and take my shorts off in three minutes or less. You do it, you get all of his money and me for the rest of the night.” Bonnie motioned to me.

  “This is a trick, right?” the guy asked, incredulous. “You’ll just slap my hands away and he’ll take all my money.” That sounded like a good plan to me, but I wasn’t about to invade Bonnie’s hustle.

  “I won’t touch your hands,” she said, her tone serious. “Unless you aren’t as much of a big shot as you told your friends, that is.” She shrugged her shoulders at him, glancing from me to the guy’s buddies. His friends started shouting over one another, encouraging him to take the bet.

  “Okay, fine!” The guy slammed down a purse that sounded full of money onto the bar. He moved toward her, smirking.

  Bonnie kneed him squarely in the crotch, watching with cold eyes as he fell to the floor, groaning, and clutching his injured appendage.

  Then she stood there. For three long minutes.

  “Listen here, pal. If a woman wants to fuck you, she’ll be excited enough to take her own pants off,” Bonnie said, standing over him. “And she won’t be fucking you a second time if you only last three minutes.”

  The music stopped, and eyes stared at her from all around the bar. She brushed her long, dark hair over her shoulder and turned to me.

  “Well, I think I’m gonna call it a night. Don’t stay out too late,” she said, stepping over the man, who groaned and clutched his bits. She reached out and grabbed my shot, taking it, then slammed the glass on the bar. Before she turned to head back upstairs, she grabbed the money bag.

  I barked out a shocked laugh, watching the short shorts accentuate her hips as she disappeared up the stairs. As soon as she was gone, though, the adrenaline and humor faded. I was sorry to see her go.

  Long after Bonnie went to bed, I stayed downstairs, playing poker. If we were planning on staying at inns, we needed to have money to pay for it. The blonde whore from earlier came down the stairs again, catching my eye as often as she could from across the room. Most of the patrons were either passed out drunk or leaving for the night. As I bowed out of my last hand of cards, the whore crossed the room to me.

  “Hiya, handsome,” she said, pressing herself against me, her accentuated breasts in my direct line of vision.

  “Hi,” I said, trying to brush past her to get back upstairs. I was drunk, and tired, and ready to curl up next to Bonnie. The whore grabbed my wrist.

  “Now wait a second,” she said. “You’ve been eyeing me over your cards all night. Look, I’ll cut you a deal because you’re so handsome. Half price.” She batted her eyelashes at me.

  “No thanks,” I said, once again moving to the stairs. I heard an aggravated sigh come from between her lips.

  The room was dark when I wandered in. I kicked off my boots and pulled my shirt over my head. Maneuvering in the dark half-drunk probably wasn’t a good idea. I moved toward the bed where Bonnie was, only to stumble over our bags. I flew forward, headfirst into the bedpost.

  “Son of a bitch,” I said in a whisper as I landed in a heap on the floor. I covered my face with my hands, willing the ringing in my ears to go away.

  “Jesse?” Bonnie said sleepily.

  “I’m fine, go back to bed,” I murmured, picking myself up off of the floor. I climbed into the bed beside her a few minutes later, only vaguely aware that I smelled like whiskey and a whore’s perfume.

  I woke up to a pounding headache. The bed was cold, and that was when I realized I was alone. How had I slept through Bonnie and The Kid getting up? My brother was as quiet as a bull in a china shop. Must have been the whiskey. I tried to sit up and immediately fell back onto the stiff mattress. As I rolled over onto my side, I noticed that my pillow didn’t smell like Bonnie.

  How long was I out?

  Within minutes, I dressed and headed downstairs. Bonnie and The Kid were sitting at a table in a corner, eating breakfast. A waitress came by and dropped a cup of coffee for me as I sat down. I murmured my thanks, before looking up at my companions. They stared at me.

  “What?”

  “Who’d you fight?” The Kid asked.

  “What?” I asked again.

  “You’ve got a shiner, farm boy,” Bonnie said, amusement glittering in her eyes. I picked up a spoon, wiping it to see my reflection. Sure enough, there was a dark line beneath my eye. I wished it was because I’d gotten in a fight with somebody. I didn’t acknowledge it; instead, I set the spoon down and picked up my coffee. When I looked at Bonnie, she had a knowing expression in her eyes.

  After breakfast, we wandered into the streets of Lamesa. People milled about, going in and out of shops, stopping to talk in the street. Somehow, it reminded me of home. Of market day, when the people back home came together. I’d loved the sense of community we had. I’d take it over isolation in the desert any day.

  “What about this one?” The Kid asked, stopping in front of a large window. There was a mannequin dressed in head-to-toe cowboy gear. I turned to ask Bonnie her thoughts, but she’d wandered across the street and disappeared into another shop.

  “Yeah, let’s do this one,” I said, opening the door.

  Once inside, he headed straight for the back. The shopkeeper watched him closely. I stopped at a rack with a sign boasting LIKE NEW JEANS. I grabbed a pair in my size and then continued on to the back of the shop.

  “What ya got, Kid?” I asked.

  In his hands, my brother held a wide-brimmed cowboy hat. A beautifully woven band in blues and greens was around the base of the crown.

  “Can I get this?” he asked. I nodded; my winnings from last night would be more than enough to pay for it. I picked up a brown hat with the sides flipped up. The Kid didn’t realize how smart he was. Hats would help keep our skin from getting burned.

  We paid the shopkeeper and wandered back outside at the same time as Bonnie crossed the street. She had a couple of wrapped packages in her hand.

  “What did you get, Bonnie?” The Kid asked. Her eyes flashed to me as I put my newly purchased hat on my head. She gave me a teasing smile, mirth in her eyes.

  “I needed some new clothes, Kid. Most of my stuff is ripped up or covered in blood,” Bonnie said. She took the hat from my head and put it on her own.

  “Nice hat,” she said, running her fingers over the brim. When she handed it back to me, her lips pursed as if she were trying to hide a grin. Her eyes glimmered as I put it back on my own head.

  “Thanks,” I said, shoving it into place.

  “I got one, too. I’m gonna put my rattle on it,” The Kid said proudly. Bonnie flashed a smile in my brother’s direction before once again turning those amused eyes on me. She lifted a hand, flicking the brim of my hat.

  “Wouldn’t wanna hide those pretty blue eyes,” she said with a grin. I stared at her back as she turned and walked beside my brother. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Bonnie just gave me a compliment.

  We continued through the main drag, stopping only to get ice cream. The street vendor claimed it was the best in town. I think it was the only in town, honestly, but the cool treat was a welcome relief in the heat. We reached the far end of the main strip. Bonnie tensed beside me, and I turned to see what she was looking at.

  In a narrow alleyway, a woman crouched on the ground, clutching her arm to her chest and rocking back and forth.

  “What’s wrong with her?” The Kid asked.

  At the sound of his voice, the woman looked up. Her hair was long and stringy, like it hadn’t been washed in months. Her skin looked gray, and her lips were stained
blue. Her mouth moved, but I couldn’t make out any sound. We needed to go. The last time I’d gotten close to someone strange, it almost didn’t end well. I put a hand on my brother’s shoulder and steered him back up the street.

  “What was that?” I asked Bonnie in a quiet voice minutes later. My brother was once again distracted by the ice cream cart. I passed him a couple of bits and told him to have at it.

  “Glowroot,” she said. “Remember that glowing plant at the crater? People distill it. It’s got this weird glow, and stains your lips blue when you drink it.”

  “Why would anyone drink that?” I asked, horrified at the idea.

  “To forget. If you’d seen half the shit people out here have, maybe you’d understand,” Bonnie said. “Sometimes you need something stronger than alcohol to get the job done. Once you’re hooked, there’s no going back.”

  I’d heard of drunks. Almost everyone knew someone addicted to alcohol. By the sound of this glowroot, it was much worse.

  The afternoon sun dipped behind the buildings. We stopped off at the blacksmith, who confirmed the horses would be ready in the morning. On our way back to the inn, we stocked up on whatever supplies we could: jerky, more apples, and some bread made that morning. We bought bullets, and I purchased a new pocketknife. I noticed Bonnie eyeing the strawberries. She bought a small container of them. Even though we’d just filled up the canteens, I bought an extra one and filled it up too.

  It was dark by the time we took our haul to our room. We unloaded our packs and reorganized them to make sure everything fit. At the bottom of mine, I found the small bag I’d toted from Montana. It was the first time I’d looked at it since Vegas. I dumped it out in front of Bonnie, who sat on the bed chewing a strawberry. She offered me one, but I declined, instead focusing on the remnants of our old life.

  There were three books Mom had packed: an old bible, a grammar book, and a copy of The Grapes of Wrath. Mom made me read it when I was fifteen. The worst book I ever read. Well, skimmed. There was no way I could get through hundreds of pages of that garbage. I tossed the book to the side and picked up the bible.

  My breath caught in my throat when I flipped open the first page.

  Jesse. Never forget where you come from. Mom.

  I ran my fingers over her words, closing my eyes. I could almost hear her say it. Almost. Like a long-lost memory, it wafted around in the depths of my mind. I couldn’t quite hear her voice. I clenched my jaw, forcing back the sadness threatening to take hold. The Kid couldn’t see me upset. He’d ask too many questions. I closed the book, smoothing down its leather cover. Pop’s name imprinted on the front.

  “What’s that?” The Kid asked, rounding on me. He reached over and picked up the grammar book, making a disgusted face when he read the title.

  “The books Mom put in the bag,” I said, and then cleared my throat in an effort to force my emotions down. “Do you want it?” I motioned to the grammar book.

  “Nope,” The Kid said.

  Well, no sense in keeping something that would only weigh us down. Before we met Bonnie, I’d tried to trade them for food. No one wanted them. I put the two books on the side table, more than happy to leave them for the next guest. But not the bible. The bible was mine.

  After repacking our bags, I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to think about anything other than the bible I’d packed away. How had she known to pack a bag? Or was that something she did in the moments leading up to our escape? How would she have known to write a note in it for me?

  There were still so many questions I didn’t have answers to.

  “We spent a lot of the money I won last night,” I said, standing from the bed. “I’m gonna go play some more poker.” I didn’t bother waiting to see what Bonnie would say, if anything at all. I needed to breathe. I needed to forget my humble beginnings for a while, because if I didn’t, I might lose my mind.

  Bonnie didn’t follow me, and I was relieved. I didn’t think I could handle her looking at me tonight. I smoothed down my shirt before walking to the bar and ordering a drink. I downed it in a single gulp, then asked for another. Once my glass was refilled, I sauntered over to the table I’d played at last night. A couple of the men were new, but the others looked at me with hatred in their eyes.

  “Got room for another?” I asked. I dragged an empty chair over before any of them could respond.

  No one said a word. They shuffled the deck and dealt me in. After a few hands, some I won and some I lost, a crowd gathered around the table. The pretty blonde whore planted herself on my knee, and I made a show of letting her pick my cards. Most of playing poker was bluffing, and I was damn good at it.

  People kept buying me drinks. The blonde whore kept putting her hand against my chest and whispering in my ear. I didn’t hear most of it, but it was nice to have her soft, warm body within an arm’s reach. She moved herself to sit squarely on my lap during the last game of the night.

  By the end of it, I’d nearly cleaned out the others. It was late, and I was sufficiently drunk and ready for bed. I let the woman take me by the hand toward the stairs. I stumbled on the first step. She stopped, laughing a cute, high-pitched sound, then threw my arm over her shoulders. We made it onto the second-floor landing, laughing together.

  Lamesa was an alright town.

  “Where’s your room, cowboy?” she asked, putting a hand on my chest. She took the hat from my head and placed it on her own. An image of Bonnie doing the same thing earlier flashed through my mind. I snatched the hat back. She looked up at me expectantly.

  “What?” I asked, eyes wide.

  “Your room,” she said. Her hands gripped the front of my shirt.

  “Nah, we can’t go in there,” I said. The words weighed heavy, like lead, on my tongue.

  She glanced to her left, then to her right, and shrugged. Then she shoved me back against the wall. Her lips found mine. Her mouth was hot and wet, the kiss uncoordinated. She reached her hands beneath my shirt, raking her nails across my stomach. The touch sent goosebumps up and down my arms.

  My eyes closed, and there was Bonnie from my dream the other night. Dressed in her short shorts, nothing else but a white tank top on, water cascading over her breasts and nipples straining against the fabric.

  All I’d wanted was Bonnie, to touch her in ways that would make her squirm and moan, to taste every inch of her. To do to her what that bartender did. All thoughts of control left me. My erection strained against my jeans. She struggled with my belt buckle. I reached down, helping her to unlatch it. Then she peeled the layers off of me, settling them at my knees.

  It had been too long since I’d experienced release. I’d stamped the feelings down for weeks now, out of obligation. I’d denied myself the carnal pleasures I’d once enjoyed. My entire body pulsed. My heart pounded in my ears as she took me in her hand. I shuddered at the warm touch, fisting my hands into her hair.

  Then she took me into her mouth. I couldn’t stifle my groan even if I wanted to.

  I knew that I wouldn’t last long; I never did after such a long bout of celibacy. My head slammed back against the wall, and I clenched my jaw, willing myself to hold on, to savor it, because I didn’t know when I would have the chance again. She set a steady rhythm. I fisted her hair, thrusting my hips forward.

  Fireworks exploded behind my eyes as my release took me. I groaned out Bonnie’s name; the only other sound in the hallway was the pounding of my heart as I raked in a sharp breath. Her movements stilled, and I let out a shuddered exhalation. I grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her to stand in front of me.

  The flash of blonde hair sent my heart plummeting.

  “You’re not Bonnie,” I murmured, suddenly sober.

  She leaned into me, her lips an inch away from mine. “I can be whoever you want me to be, cowboy, long as you pay.” She was stroking me again, and I was half a second from losing it. I shuddered at her touch.

  “No,” I said, shoving her more roughly than I should have
. She clambered back from me, shock in her eyes.

  As quickly as I could, I pulled my pants up and retrieved my forgotten hat from the floor. “Sorry,” I murmured, moving past her to the door of our room. I fixed my belt right before I entered the dark room, shame filling my chest.

  Chapter Fifteen - Bonnie

  I couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t just the absence of Jesse’s warmth, it was the haunted expression in his eyes when he’d left. I knew the echo of that pain. I didn’t follow him, because I knew better than most that sometimes the only way through was by drowning it.

  The night wore on, and the sounds of the rowdy bar below reminded me of my childhood. Long nights in places like this, searching the crowds for Jones’s next mark. It was just as comforting as it was unsettling without Jesse’s body next to me, a reminder that I wasn’t alone anymore. It was nearly daylight, and Jesse hadn’t returned; a pit in my stomach yawned open, and I bit my nails down to the quick.

  Then I heard him.

  A high-pitched giggle, then Jesse’s deep canyon timbre moaning in the hallway. No, it couldn’t be. I slipped out from beneath the quilt on the hard mattress and padded on bare feet to the door. Cracking it open, I peered out to watch as Jesse fisted his fingers in the hair of a blonde whore kneeling before him.

  As quietly as I could, I shut the door again, my stomach dropping to my feet. Jealousy and anger swirled inside of me, threatening to unravel me completely. I bit my bottom lip hard as I stared at the bed. The one I’d assumed I would be sharing with Jesse tonight. I ran my hands through my hair in panic. Think, Bonnie, think!

  The door clicked open behind me, and Jesse stumbled in, obviously drunk and buckling his belt. I froze, my entire body strung tight. Sucking in a sharp breath, I attempted to calm my obviously stricken features. Either Jesse was too drunk to comment on my expression or he didn’t care enough about the hurt and jealousy raging within me. He only met my eye for a moment before crossing with heavy steps to the bed we were supposed to share.