by Eden Connor
“If you don’t get the fuck out of this house, I’m going to let you beg Jill’s forgiveness face to face.”
“It’s that... that bastard who needs to beg forgiveness. Dale Hannah raped my daughter, then kidnapped her, and took her out of state. Never done a single day for his sins, because of that damn cop!”
I gripped the posts on either side of the chair back, whipping the seat above my head. “I mean it. Get out!”
He made a deliberate turn toward Caroline. “Me and you ain’t done, girlie. I reckon you done picked the cash option.” Ignoring me, like he thought I wouldn’t dare slap his brains right out of his skull, he slid first one foot, then the other, into his slacks. “First Timothy, chapter five, verse six. But she who gives herself to wanton pleasure is dead even while she lives.”
In an instant, I was transported to some church revival, dragged there at the age of seven by my grandmother and her sister. The preacher had run up and down the aisle, waving a Bible and shouting until people fell down in convulsions. I’d hidden under the pew, crying. My grandmother spanked me when she saw I’d wet my pants.
“Bible verses won’t save you, old man. Not from me.”
He pushed off the couch, drawing his pants up pale, shrunken thighs. The prick’s motions were as deliberate as if he’d been dressing in his own bedroom.
He lifted his head. “Hosea, chapter two, verse five. For their mother has played the harlot. She who conceived them has acted shamefully. For she said, I will go after my lovers, who give me my bread and my water, my wool and my flax, my oil and my drink.”
I held his gaze for a moment, then dropped my eyes to his exposed penis. Lifting my head again, I smirked. “Call me crazy, but I think God’s a little pissed at you for quoting the Bible with your cock hanging out.”
All sanity faded from his eyes, leaving only the twisting flames of hatred. My heart knocked my ribs, but I cocked the chair like a bat while he tucked himself up and closed his zipper. I thought for one hideous second that he’d lunge at me, but he spun and staggered out the door.
Casting the chair aside, I jumped to help Caroline sit up. She tugged her sweatpants over her thighs, but not before I spied long, bloody scratches marring her legs and abdomen.
“We have to call the police. He tried to rape you.”
She twisted her fists in my shirt. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her wild eyes wrenched my heart. “No. Nobody’s gonna take my word over his.”
“I’m a witness!” I grabbed her shoulders, sinking onto the edge of the couch. “I saw him, Caroline. I heard you scream.”
“Like folks won’t think we made that up together? Face it, Shelby. I’m the town slut and he’s a man of God.”
Like hell he is.
She dropped her eyes, but I jammed my fingers under her chin until she met my fierce stare. “You are not a slut. I deny it’s even a goddamn word! We choose to have sex, when we want, with anyone we want. It’s a fucking choice we’re allowed to make. Because we are no man’s property. We don’t have to answer to anybody on the face of the earth for that. Do you hear me? Enjoying sex makes us nothing but adult women in control of our sexuality. People like him just spout that shit as an excuse to use women like punching bags.”
I stared until she gave a slight nod. “I don’t want Mama to know,” she whispered. “She’ll do something crazy. She just stays here to taunt him. I-I....” She threw her arms around my neck. “Oh, God, what am I gonna do?”
“Shh. Shh. You’re gonna take a shower and scrub that bastard’s sweat off you. I’ll clean up the mess.”
“You don’t understand,” she choked. “He’s bought this house and taken over our lease.”
I pulled back to see her face. “He what?”
She stared past my shoulder. “He’s lost it. Mama’s finally made him insane. He waits till his wife leaves for work. Then, he sits out on the driveway in a folding chair, praying out loud for the Lord to deliver him from the midst of evil. Beggin’ God to cast out the harlots.”
She lifted hopeless eyes to mine. “And his God gave him a way. He bought our house from Hanley Martin. I was tryin’ to scape up the money for it. That’s why I wrote that program for the cigarette plant. I thought they’d give me a bonus. When that didn’t work out, Hanley had to have the money on account of he has cancer, so he sold the house to Reverend Shavis instead. He took over our lease. It runs out the end of the month. He’s jacking up the rent, Shelby. He wants twelve hundred and fifty dollars a month!”
Her face twisted. “Or, I can fuck him once a week for the difference. Because after all, I am a harlot.”
Sour, hot liquid roiled in the back of my throat. “Then, you move. I’ll help you start packing.”
She raked tangles from her hair. “Mama’s almost as bat-shit crazy as he is. I don’t know what she’ll do if that man’s the one to force us outta here. She thrives on—What’ll I do if she goes back to drinkin’? We gotta have her paycheck. Little Shelby needs her grandma. Shelby, she might shoot the bastard.”
Jamming the heels of her palms into her eye sockets, she choked, “I knew I shoulda held onto that cash we won and not paid up the car insurance. I guess I’ll have to sell the car after all, but when that money’s gone, then what?”
“You’re not selling the car.” I supposed we could race, but without three strapping males to enforce the deal, we might end up just wasting gasoline. Maybe Ervin could fix something up. I could ask Lee Haney, but it made more sense to have this discussion with the guys.
“I’m calling Jonny.”
She dug her nails into my arm. “No. No! Promise me, Shelby, you won’t call any of them. They can’t do nothin’ from Virginia. They need to think about racin’ and nothin’ else. Besides, I told you, me and him’s just foolin’ around. But, even if we ain’t, dumpin’ your problems on a man’s the best way in the world to make sure he runs.”
I opened my mouth to tell her what Jonny had said about her and little Shelby. But closed it again, because after all the hell Caroline had been through, didn’t she deserve that unspoiled, heart-pounding moment when Jonny went down on one knee? I didn’t want her walking on broken glass for months, wondering when he’d propose, because I spilled the beans. Too much had to happen before that moment would come. Because of something Dale had done for me.
“Just hold me,” she begged. “For one minute, I wanna feel like someone loves me.”
I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight to my chest. Her tremors rippled through my body.
“I’ve always loved you,” I whispered, smoothing her hair from her cheek. “From the moment I first laid eyes on you and those damn sexy boots.”
It was true. I didn’t know whether to trust what I felt for Caine and Colt, but I’d always been in love with Caroline. From the moment she’d casually forged my mother’s signature on an excuse for school, she’d been the thing I always aspired to be. Wild and free. Expecting Caroline to follow the rules of the mundane world made about as much sense as expecting a tiger to cross the road at the light.
Her wildness called to the resentful, half-grown girl I’d been then, one who’d been ignored when not being smothered. I’d answered the call, thrilled because no one else in my entire, miserable life had ever looked on me as a fellow rule-breaker. Every rule I’d ever broken had been because I’d wicked up courage from Caroline like a thirsty sponge.
It took more than courage not to give a fuck about the rules. It took the wisdom to see that the rules were rigged in unfair ways—the way no one ever condemned Brandon, for example, when Caroline got pregnant. The way no one would ever whisper about Colt and Caine for all those nights spent fucking on the hood of a car after a race, but would be thrilled to point a finger at me and Caroline and cry ‘harlot!’
She’d rejected everything society said a good girl should be, in favor of enjoying her femininity in ways most never dared. And the women who knew her despised her for the freedom she took, the way I supposed t
hose condemned to life in prison must hate their visitors when they turned to walk away.
I smoothed my lips over her cheek, murmuring shh, shh, while she sobbed. I thought about the way she’d writhed on the hood of her Challenger, clad only in the glow of a street light, while a stranger knelt between her thighs. The scared little girl I’d been the first night I’d seen Caroline race had marveled that any woman could be so free.
She pulled her head off my shoulder to look into my eyes, and I knew I’d fight anyone to wipe the shame from her eyes. I regretted not swinging that damn chair, but the luck of the Roberts dictated that I’d maim rather than kill.
“I’m fine.” She sniffed. “Really, I don’t know why I’m crying. He didn’t hurt me.”
Oh, yes, he did. Anger burned hot inside my breast. The woman I loved pushed me away. I wasn’t ready to let her go. Forcing her to let me hold her made me no different than Shalvis, so I stood.
“Okay, you get a shower. I’ll clean up the mess. I’ll go to the cash machine and get out fifty bucks to pay Robyn back for her vase. Think that’s enough?”
“I don’t want your money, Shelby. She’ll believe it was an accident. She’ll be home any time now.” Caroline pushed off the couch. I couldn’t bear watching the wooden way she moved, but I sensed she didn’t want my help. Only my silence.
Was being an accomplice the only thing I was good for?
What would stop Shalvis from walking right through the door any time his hatred gave him a stiff dick?
I found a canister-style Electrolux that had to be older than me in a closet filled with coats and boxes of Christmas stuff. The pipes knocked, signaling that Caroline had gotten in the shower. It took a minute to get my hand to stop bleeding, but thank God, I hadn’t gotten any on the couch. By the time I swept up the broken china and laid the flowers on the kitchen table, she still hadn’t returned to the front room.
How could I stop this evil man? If I couldn’t tell Caine, or Colt, or God forbid, Jonny, could I tell Dale?
No, I’d given him enough to worry about by sending Mom to Martinsville. Besides, he hated Robyn. I had to handle it myself. Today, before leaving town.
I stowed the vacuum, then dashed to the car. Grabbing my purse off the ground, I slid behind the wheel and barked, “Siri, call the Cabarrus County Sheriff’s Department.”
A moment later, a cool, masculine voice answered, giving the department name. “How may I be of assistance?”
“I need to speak to Mack Brown. The matter’s urgent. I’m Shelby Ro—This is Shelby Hannah. Dale Hannah’s daughter.” Please, please, be a fucking NASCAR fan.
My heart sang with triumph when he replied, “I’ll relay your number, ma’am. He’s in his car.”
I waited, studying the slight gap in the bushes between the Mason’s little cottage and the brick parsonage next door. How often did the bastard come through that gap? Did he stand outside their fucking windows in the dark?
“Shelby? What’s wrong, child?” Mack barked.
“I need to talk. In person.”
He hesitated. The police radio crackled and squawked in the background. “What’s your twenty?”
“I’m at Robyn Mason’s place, but I want to meet... in the place we first met.”
“I ain’t likin’ this.”
“It’s not what you think, Mack. I need advice. It’s important.”
“Ten-four. Be there in ten.” The time of the call flashed on the screen.
The crunch of gravel drew my attention to the rear view mirror. Robyn’s little sedan traversed the long driveway. She rolled to a stop between my car and Caroline’s.
“Shelby! What a nice surprise.”
I forced enthusiasm into my voice. “Hey, Robyn. I’m gonna run and grab dinner for us. Caroline’s in the shower. Y’all want Chinese, or those fattening, delicious things they sell at What-a-Burger?”
“Oh, hon, I just bought the stuff to make spaghetti.”
“Save it till tomorrow. I sorta have to insist. I’m treating because I broke your vase.”
“Shelby!” A tiny hand waved furiously from the back seat. I returned the child’s enthusiastic wave.
“She likes those noodles at the Chinese joint.”
“Lo Mein?”
Robyn flashed a rueful smile. “That’s it. I just know it’s number twenty-two on the menu.”
Of course it is. Damn number haunted me. “One twenty-two comin’ up. What’s your favorite?”
Chapter Twenty
I raced down Mount Zion Road. “Siri, call Little Panda Restaurant.” Once the restaurant answered, I ordered everything I could think of. “I’ll pick it up.”
“Need card number on order this big.” I barely understood the broken English.
Muttering a curse, I made the left onto Old Cottonmouth Road, then lunged for my purse. “Okay, hang on one sec.”
I braked. I didn’t want to use Dale’s plastic again, but I couldn’t find my debit card. I nearly turned the wallet inside out, but all I found was my college ID, a bunch of business cards given me by restaurant patrons, and the check Caine had written me back in January. My rainy day money.
At last, I spied my card under the edge of the passenger seat. I unfastened the safety belt and stretched. Once I had the plastic in hand, I rattled off the number and expiration date. I stuck the card in my wallet and cruised to the cul-de-sac.
The fire barrel still sat in the middle of the asphalt circle. I went halfway around, reversing into the spot where Colt’s Corvette had been parked the night Mack tried to confiscate Caroline’s car. You’d better remember that night, goddammit.
Mack’s cruiser roared up the narrow lane. He put the nose of the Ford close to the Audi. When he swung his door open, he shocked me by grinning. “I shoulda knowed you was in town. Someone said they saw a purple flash headed up the interstate a couple hours ago. His exact words were, ‘That damn car’s gone!’ He wheezed, working his way from behind the wheel.
I eased out of the car, still clutching my wallet. Mack waddled toward the Audi. “This the same one you took off’n Barnes?”
“Yes, sir.” I stepped away so he could peer inside.
“Hot diggety damn. Anything it ain’t got? Woo wee, that speedometer goes all the way to two damn hundred.”
“Well, Caine disconnected the auto drive. So, it ain’t got that no more.”
He pulled his nose out long enough to dart me a glance. “Do I wanna ask if you’ve wound that speedometer all the way out yet?”
I had to laugh. “No, that was Colt. But, I turned in a seven point seven at the drag strip in Greer.”
He frowned. “Quarter mile or eighth?”
“Quarter mile.” Would he do this for me? Or would he take the line he’d taken that hideous night, that Caroline was just trash?
Please, God, if you’re out here, my blood’s gotta count for something, doesn’t it?
Mack Brown smiled so wide, his eyes disappeared behind his cheeks. He lowered his head, then jerked upright, eyes narrowed. I saw no sign of a smile now.
“What’s wrong, Shelby? This got anythin’ to do with that report your mama called in? You got my word, we’ll find that guy who roughed her up this afternoon.” He gestured. “Especially if that’s his blood on you.”
Macy, you idiot. Now, the police will find some neighbor who saw that fucking Mercedes. It’ll take Mack five minutes to figure out I was there, too.
“Uh... no.” I held up my injured palm. “It’s my blood. This isn’t about Macy, it’s about Caroline.” I grabbed his arm because now, I had to sell her damn lie. “Is Mom okay, Mack? I went by her place earlier. I wasn’t there long, so I left my purse in the car. When I stopped for gas, all my cash was missing.”
His hat shaded his eyes, but the brim moved up and down at last. “Yes, ma’am. She was just shook up. Guy roughed her up a bit, but somethin’ scared him off ‘fore he could do much harm. She told my deputy she’d feel safer if’n she left town for a bit. I
think she decided to fly up to Martinsville, to be with Dale.”
Was it all about attention, then? Did she need to be the martyr so badly that she’d fabricate a break-in?
No. She needs Dale off balance and on her side. In case I tell him a different story later, I’ll look like the liar.
Again.
Damn, Macy. You calculating cunt.
I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the scent of loam and a touch of burnt rubber, but the expected pain never came.
Forget her.
“If I told you I walked in on Reverend Shalvis trying to rape Caroline, what would you say?”
The sheriff’s beady eyes went rattlesnake flat. “If you’re askin’ would I believe the Reverend Shalvis could do such a thing, the answer’s yes. Did you call me out here to report a sexual assault, Shelby?”
I shook my head. “No, sir. I’m talking to you as someone whose expert opinion I value. Caroline won’t let me make that report.”
He swept his hat off his head, startling me with the violent motion. Shoving a hand inside, he spun the crown around on his fat fingers.
“Go on.” The gruff words weren’t a request.
I explained about the purchase of their house and the new rental amount, starting the first of June. “Is that legal? I mean, I know the rent can go up, but is it legal to triple the rent without a notice?”
“Quadruple.” He nodded. “If that lease expires end of this month, he can ask anythin’ he wants.” He squinted. “Now, if’n they move out, and he offers it to someone else for less, your buddy Kossel can tear him a new asshole in court. Sue him for discrimination.”
I shook my head, sliding the diamond to the back of my finger. “The price for his services would be me marrying his son, I’m afraid. And that doesn’t keep the Masons in the only home Caroline’s ever known, Mack.”
“We can’t have that. You as a country club wife? A pure waste.”
“Then how about this?” I opened my wallet and pulled out the check from Caine. It’s pouring, right? “I’ll endorse it. You deposit the money in your personal account. I was thinking you could pay the good reverend for me. In person. In uniform.”
