by Bijou Hunter
“I’ve waited so long to be able to have something normal with Dash,” I tell MJ who seems transfixed on the smoke from her warm breath meeting the cool air. “Now that the truth is out there, I want everyone to accept it so I can get to the good stuff.”
“What about his family knowing? Are they the sort to step out of the way of your happiness?”
“His family except for Sissy is filled with miserable people. They aren’t happy, and they refuse for anyone else to be happy either,” I say and then nudge my sister. “I really appreciate you helping me out in there. I didn’t know how to handle Mom’s anger. Backing down felt both right and wrong.”
“I didn’t do it for you,” MJ says, patting my head. “You’re nice and all, but I was thinking about Hash and how he comes from shit. Being with someone like you is a real prize for him. You’re good at taking care of people, and I was thinking about how he probably needed that just like how Quaid needs me to make him happy. They’re broken men from broken families, and we grew up spoiled in a good family with always enough to eat and never any fear of being hurt. We also felt loved, but Quaid didn’t, and I’d guess Bash didn’t either.”
I accept my sister will likely spend the next year running through alternative names for Dash—much like she refused to refer to our brother-in-law, Cap, by his correct name until last summer. MJ is right, though, about our picturesque childhood. I never worried about Pop beating on me or Mom calling me names because she felt bad about herself. I had good parents, and now I want to spread that comfort to Dash and our baby. I want to help Sissy too.
If the Johanssons and Mullens are at war, my side should win. We’re not perfect, but we don’t use that as an excuse to be genuinely awful people like Topher. Dash and Sissy deserve to be on my side, and I refuse to believe otherwise.
THE LOSER
Cooper doesn’t kill me on the spot. Instead, he stares with eyes that both remind me of Lily and fuel from my nightmares. More than once, I’ve dreamed of this man beating me to death. Of course, I’m always a kid and can’t fight back. Maybe that’s because I can’t imagine hurting him without hurting Lily. In reality, I’d probably fuck him up a little before he finished me. When facing death, even the most passive fucker is bound to go rabid.
Rather than kick my ass or stare at me for another few painful minutes, Cooper stands up and walks into Pickles in Paradise. I sip my soda and check my phone to find a million messages from people around town warning me that Scary Biker Man is on the warpath and I’m his designation. I skip through them until I reach the panicked ones from Lily.
“Tell him I seduced you,” she writes in one message, and I laugh despite my baby being in such a state that she honestly thought this was decent advice.
I send Lily a message reassuring her that I’m alive. Though I share how her father is currently ordering greasy food and her mother likely won’t approve.
“Run now!” she replies, clearly not finding my humor appropriate. “Give him time to calm down! Just run!”
I shouldn’t laugh, but Lily can be so overly dramatic. I doubt her family even notices since her theatrics can’t be compared to what her sisters produce.
“I want to kill you,” Cooper says, walking outside with a bottle of beer and a super-sized hot dog covered in toppings. No way will his wife be happy with him filling up on that. “But Lily wouldn’t forgive me.”
“She does know how to hold a grudge. Not at an MJ-level, but Lily’s still nursing grudges from when she was in elementary school.”
Cooper stops mid-bite to frown. “So MJ knew about you, huh?”
“Not until this week, no.”
“Did Lily tell you a lot about her family?”
“Is that a real question?” I ask and then dump my trash. “Yeah, Papa Johansson, your daughter talks endlessly about your family.”
Exhaling roughly, he chews angrily at the hot dog. I light a cigarette while holding his pissed gaze. We stop eyeing one another at the sound of an approaching Harley. Motorcycles are as commonplace as trucks around this backwaters part of Kentucky, but this one races directly for us.
Cooper rolls his eyes and returns to chewing. I watch Colton park next to his father’s Harley before stomping to where we sit at separate tables.
“What the fuck, man?” Colton grumbles. “I thought you might need help with his body, and here you are pigging out instead.”
Cooper shrugs. “Did Lily send you?”
“Of course not,” Colton says, giving me a side-glare. “She was too hysterical to ask for my help. Poor thing was blubbering with MJ. So many hormones between the two of them.”
Cooper can’t tell if his son is lying, but I’m reasonably sure Lily wouldn’t cry in this situation. She usually shoves her feelings deep down inside, saving them for a more convenient time. Lily is a practical woman. Sometimes anyway. Other times, she’s a dramatic wild woman. So I guess it’s possible she’s hysterically crying with MJ, but I highly fucking doubt it.
“So you two are friends now?” Colton asks, scratching at his head full of blond hair. “Like is he part of the family and I need to be nice to him or can I keep treating him like shit?”
“He is shit.”
“But he’s also the father of your grandchild,” Colton points out, and I realize he might somehow be on my side. Well, more likely he’s on Lily’s side, but right now, that’s the same thing.
Cooper glares at me and then turns his angry eyes to Colton. “So she says.”
“Lily isn’t a whore,” Colton says.
“I know that.”
“Okay, Pop. Sure then.”
Cooper grunts with his mouth full of hot dog. Having expected more violence by now, I sit passively and wait for someone to make a move. Cooper shows no interest in taking his angry glares to the next level. Instead, he finishes his food before suddenly announcing he’ll be in touch. A minute later, I watch him ride off into the chilly night.
“Well, that happened,” I mutter while Colton sits nearby with the fried pickles he ordered while his father eyeballed me.
Colton swallows some of his food and mumbles, “Pop is weak when it comes to his women.”
“Can’t say I blame him.”
“That doesn’t mean you aren’t done for.”
“I never expect to survive the year,” I admit. “That philosophy keeps life exciting.”
“Mullens are fucking whacked. Your situation would break my heart if I weren’t worried you’d steal my wallet while I was crying.”
Smirking, I’ve always hated Colton, but that’s my family’s way of thinking. If Cooper Johansson is the biggest asshole on the planet, then his mini-me is the second biggest. I was born to hate the guy, but Lily usually says nice things—though he apparently farts on her a lot—and he’s never fucked with me personally. Plus, he’s one of the few guys in town who hasn’t banged Sissy.
“Man, the fried pickles here are the fucking best,” Colton says while tossing his trash. “I think it’s the old grease they cook everything in. Makes the food extra flavorful.”
“The meth they stick in it doesn’t hurt either.”
“Don’t fuck with me. There’s no meth in that shit.”
Fighting a smile, I shrug. “That’s what I heard makes it so addictive.”
“Fucker,” he says, giving me a grumpy smile. “So how did you get my sister to give you a shot? I mean you’re not amazing in any way I can see, and Lily’s always been pretty uppity about guys. So what was your secret? Did you write her a song or something?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Not every woman is going to be impressed by my good looks, money, and charm. Hell, they might not even care about my guns,” he says and yanks up the sleeves on his white thermal top to reveal his legendary arms. “Can you imagine a woman not creaming a little when I flex these? Well, it’s bound to fucking happen.”
“Bound to or already has?”
“No, I got no trouble getting the best
trim, but none of them were keepers. I worry my ride-or-die bitch will end up making me jump through a lot of fucking hoops.”
“You're athletic, so jumping shouldn’t be too tough.”
“Well, you’re just all kinds of funny, aren’t you?” he growls, trying to intimidate me.
“So I’ve heard.”
“How come you don’t want to tell me how you seduced my sister? Is it something sinister?”
“You mean like did I slip meth in her fried pickles?”
“What’s with all the meth talk?” he demands, clearly worried he’s been indulging in crystal with his greasy comfort food. “I thought Mullens were all about booze and pot.”
“You’re not wrong.”
Colton moves to the table I’m sitting at and lands his ass hard on the circular seat. I suspect he’s trying to scare me, but I’m just curious if he injured his ball sack with that big move.
“Fess up, or I’ll assume the worst.”
“There’s no magic to it,” I say, shrugging. “I just got her alone one night after high school. She was meeting with Sissy, and I showed up, and Lily got flustered. That told me she was into me. I mean, I figured she was, but I wasn’t sure how wild she wanted to go with her heart. So I stood in front of her and laid it out bare. Said I wanted to kiss her and whatever happened afterward happened.”
“That’s fucking it?” Colton asks, seeming horrified.
“Yeah. I kissed her, and she was still sexier than anyone in the world. That was my biggest worry.”
“Did you hear she had bad breath or something?”
“No, see, I’d been hung up on a girl before Lily. It was back early in my high school years and the chick, Dina, was super-hot with tits that wouldn’t stop, and she had a beauty queen smile and a little girl giggle that was very fucking hot. I imagined getting with her for a long time. Then we hooked up. Well, it turned out her tits remained nice, but her fake-ass smile got on my nerves. Everything made her happy. There was no earning her smiles. Oh, and that giggle turned obnoxious real quick. Dina went from hero to zero pretty instantly, and I worried that might happen with Lily. Figured she couldn’t be as dynamite as I’d built up in my head.”
“And she really isn’t. No offense, but she’s not even my most interesting sister.”
Cocking an eyebrow, I toss my cigarette butt. “I’ll be sure to tell her that.”
“Fuck you.”
“Up until I got that first kiss with Lily, I’d only see her around town in passing. She was in college, doing the good girl shtick. I was at Hampton delivering pot to everyone. Staff, students, and even security. That entire school is just one pot party.”
“Does Lily smoke it?”
“That’s a question for your sister.”
“No fucking way will she tell me the truth.”
“Then what makes you think I will?”
“Bitch.”
Chuckling, I lean closer. “Let me ask you a question now? How come you never sniffed around my sister?”
“She’s a dummy.”
“Yeah, she is. So are lots of chicks.”
Colton shakes his head. “Sissy reminds me of MJ, and I spent most of my life thinking MJ was completely fucking clueless. Sure, there are times when I figure she might be fucking with me with her dummy act, but mostly, I feel bad for her. That’s why when Quaid showed up and wanted her and she wanted him, I supported the shit out of them being together. I mean how many men want to hook up long term with a woman he needs to think for? I figured MJ needed to nail things down with Quaid before he got smart and ran away. Now she’s preggers, and he’s trapped, so maybe she’s not so stupid after all.”
“Sissy is a full-time job, for sure. She’s ended up on the side of the road dozens of times because she forgets to check the gas level and runs out in the middle of nowhere.”
“Dozens?”
Nodding, I shrug at his disbelieving frown. “Dozens, but Lily got her those sticky notes to put in her car. Now Sissy goes through a checklist before she drives, and she rarely runs out of gas anymore. Though she often brings the car home nearly on empty, I think that’s more about laziness. So she’s dumb, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t smart enough to get out of work.”
“Yeah, those dumb girls always seem to get out of work.”
We pause to wonder about our stupid sisters. Then my mind returns to his smarter sister and what she’s probably thinking right now. I take out my phone and message her to say I’m alive and surviving in the cloud of her brother’s burps.
“Man, those pickles really come back up on you,” he mutters before downing half a beer to drown his burps into submission.
Lily messages me back with the advice, “Don’t breathe through your nose.” I grin at her silly gif, and I’m sure she feels relieved at how the night’s events turned out. The problem is the Johansson team wasn’t the one I worried most about, and the Mullens haven’t even taken the field yet.
THE PRINCESS
I stand on the porch of my parents’ house, waiting for the all clear from MJ. Instead, she returns and announces, “Mom’s never making dinner again. I guess this means we’ll starve.”
I smile at my sister’s expression before following her off the porch and down a short distance to her yurt. MJ and Quaid haven’t gotten around to installing a kitchen—or any plumbing—yet so they cook in her tiny RV parked at the back.
“Bad news,” MJ tells Quaid who is stretched out on the bed with his legs hanging partly off. “We’re on our own for dinner.”
“We could drive into town and get something.”
When MJ hesitates, I suspect she fears visiting Ellsberg at night and possibly running into the man who shot her. Gary Lee Roy needs to die. I know that’s not the good girl way of looking at a situation, but I don’t believe everyone can be redeemed. Plus, MJ is my little sister, and I thought she might die. The memory of first seeing her in the hospital room sends me in a panic. She looked so fragile, and MJ’s never particularly been the delicate sort. Gary Lee stole something from my sister that she’ll never get back. So killing him only seems fair.
Quaid slides off the bed and hands her a thermal jacket from over the freezer. “Let’s get pizza,” he tells MJ who only agrees because it’s him. The man has magical abilities to charm her out of saying, “no” to everything.
We walk back into the cold night, and I look up to realize the light rain has turned to ice.
“We’ll follow you to Pizza Hut,” Quaid tells me. “It’s not far from your place, so driving home afterward shouldn’t be too risky.”
“Look at how quickly you learned the ins and outs of Ellsberg,” MJ coos to her husband who smiles at her compliment. We both know she’s nervous, and I doubt she’ll regain her confidence until Gary Lee Roy is in the cold ground.
I check my phone at every stop sign and light, hoping to find reassuring messages from Dash. While I can’t imagine Pop murdering him, I also know I wear rose-colored glasses when it comes to the family business. They don’t hurt people who don’t deserve it. Pop is an honorable man who just happens to break—mostly stupid—laws. The Johanssons and the Reapers are a moral positive in a town always teetering toward absolute chaos caused by selfish out-of-town college kids or the trashier locals such as Topher Mullen and Bobby Bo Roche. Yes, the world is very calming with my happy-goggles on.
Arriving at Pizza Hut, I’m struck by youthful nostalgia. Back when my siblings and I were in the same elementary school our mom also works at, she occasionally needed to stay late. Rather than hang out in her classroom—likely distracting her during meetings—we walked a block to the Pizza Hut where we’d wait for either Mom to finish or Pop to show up and claim the pizza as his contribution to dinner.
“I’m in charge of feeding you once a week, and this totally counts,” he often announced, just in case we might forget.
Back then, Mom worked full-time, and Pop had just taken over from Pop-Pop as president of the club. Even without par
enting four very different—and often times difficult—children, they were weighed down with responsibilities.
Despite them being so tired back then, I don't remember ever feeling as if they didn’t have time for me. I hope I can do as well for my kid as my parents did for me.
Once inside the toasty restaurant, I order a personal-sized meat-lovers with the hope that Dash will show up later to help me finish it.
“What happens next?” Quaid asks me after he scoots into the booth next to MJ. “With Dash Mullen, I mean.”
“We don’t have to hide anymore.”
“What if Pop kills him?” MJ asks and then gives me a “sorry” look. “I mean he most likely won’t. Colton even messaged me to say Pop ditched Dash and was heading home. So he isn’t killing him tonight and he probably won’t at all.”
“Had trouble walking that back, didn’t you?” Quaid teases MJ who stares blankly at him as if not understanding. “Stop flirting and eat up.”
MJ smiles before resting her head against his arm. She looks so comfortable that I’m again struck with the green-eyed monster. How much I would give to be able to meet Dash for pizza whenever and wherever we want. I imagine him sitting next to me right now. MJ and Audrey have regular double dates when they’re in the same town. I’m so damn close to enjoying what they do, but Mom and Pop’s poor reactions make me worry about what Topher Mullen will do when he eventually finds out. No rose-colored glasses exist to make that man any more than evil.
THE CHAPTER WHERE THE MULLENS BLEED
THE LOSER
Despite the scattered icy rain, I arrive home to find Sissy and her kids sitting on the porch steps. Topher’s car isn’t visible, but he must be in the house, or else they’d never put up with the cold. Before leaving the safety of my vehicle, I consider waving them over and stealing into the night. We could even hole up somewhere—like Lily’s—until Topher’s rage finds a new target. Except the psycho fucker could show up at her place. No one wins in that scenario.
