Junkyard Dog

by Hunter, Bijou

  When I smile at him, Hayes’s expression shifts into a grumpy frown. He knows I think he’s a big softie.

  “Don’t,” he warns.

  “You love your daddy,” I tease.

  “Didn’t you?”

  “No. He didn’t stick around long enough. When I last saw him, I was living at the Eddison Estate. He showed up wanting money for his girlfriend’s kid’s braces. I called him by the wrong name and shut the door. He hasn’t bothered me since.”

  Hayes nods, remaining silent for a few minutes. “Do you like men?”

  “Sexually? Yeah.”

  “No, I mean, do you think they’re all fucking scum?”

  “Of course not. My son is a little man after all. I adored my brother Peat. So I like men just fine. Why?”

  “Didn’t know if you were the bitter sort.”

  “Is this because I haven’t batted my eyes at you today?”

  “I’ll be happy if you avoid fucking crying.”

  Grinning, I check my phone. “Your low standards allow me to excel.”

  “I think you’d do fine if I expected more.”

  I focus on him and grin. “You complimented me! Were you drugged this morning? Why are you such a sweetie pie today?”

  “I’m ignoring you now.”

  “Did it hurt?” I ask.

  “What?”

  “When you fell from heaven?” I ask, barely keeping a straight face. “You’re a damn angel; I tell ya!”

  “I’m seriously fucking considering firing you.”

  I pat his arm reassuringly, causing him to glance at me as if I’ve harmed him in some way.

  “What?”

  Hayes shakes his head, still looking freaked out. I study my fingers and wonder what unknown powers they possess.

  We arrive at a blue, craftsman style home on the east side of White Horse. The small lawn is immaculate, and the house looks recently painted.

  I climb down from the massive truck and walk to the front porch where a rocking bench rests.

  “Here are they keys,” Hayes says, handing them to me. “I’ll email you the security code later.”

  “What’s your dad’s name again?”

  “Balthazar.”

  “Your name makes a lot more sense.”

  “Shut up, Candy.”

  “You’re so childish,” I tease while following him into the house.

  Hayes wants to say something mean, but he keeps his mouth shut and walks down a narrow hallway to a back family room. I’m so busy wondering if he’ll whack his head on the ceiling that I don’t notice the bald old man sleeping in a wide La-Z-Boy chair.

  Hayes walks into the adjoining kitchen and ducks to avoid a beam. I hear the caretaker going over Balthazar’s day. The old man ate eggs and oatmeal for breakfast, walked around the yard, and then took his nap in the front of the TV. Hayes looms large over the short, round woman who glances at me.

  “My assistant will come by when I can’t,” Hayes says quietly, but his voice remains loud enough to wake Balthazar.

  “Gussy,” he mumbles, petting the white cat on his lap. “Who’s the broad?”

  “This is my assistant, Candy,” Hayes tells him. “I told you about her.”

  “Yeah,” Balthazar says. “She’s a looker.”

  “Yeah. She’ll come by and check on you when I’m busy.”

  “Pawning me off on others again, huh, son?”

  “Save the guilt, old man. I’m not interested.”

  Balthazar smiles. “You woke me from my nap. Never could whisper.”

  Hayes stretches, scraping his hands on the ceiling.

  “Don’t break my shit, boy.”

  “Well, this was fun.”

  I look at the two men and enjoy their bickering. Hayes notices me smiling and shakes his head.

  “Don’t.”

  “What’s your cat’s name?” I ask Balthazar.

  “Gladys the Cat.”

  Hayes says, “My mother’s name was Gladys.”

  “I didn’t want to learn a new name,” Balthazar explains.

  The two men don’t share a single physical resemblance. Hayes is larger than life; Balthazar is tiny. My boss has an olive tint to his skin while his father looks like he’ll burst into flames if in the sun for too long. Hayes has darker than sin eyes; Balthazar possesses sparkling blue ones. Clearly, Gussy didn’t gain anything genetic from his old man.

  I feel Hayes wanting to leave already. He doesn’t have to say anything or even gesture for me to get moving. I simply feel his tension amp up. We’re in sync already, and I can usually tell when he wants fresh coffee before he yells for a refill.

  Now Hayes wants to leave. I don’t know if he’s worried I’ll embarrass him with his dad or if his father will be the one to do the embarrassing. I just know Hayes wants to get the hell out of the house.

  I wave goodbye to Balthazar, who watches me while petting his cat. Hayes is already at his truck by the time I reach the porch.

  “What’s the hurry?”

  “He needs his nap.”

  “He seems nice.”

  “He is.”

  Hayes climbs into his truck and then leans over to help pull me into the passenger seat.

  “Are you embarrassed by me?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  I grin at him. “You don’t look like your dad.”

  “Don’t start shit with me, Candy.”

  “Ah, the answers are falling into place,” I say, buckling myself into the seat. “What next?”

  “I need to run by a few sites, and then we’ll go to lunch.”

  “Is this the house you grew up in?”

  “Yes.”

  I look back at the house shrinking into the distance. “You must have ducked a lot.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Can we listen to music then?” I ask, already reaching for the radio buttons.

  Hayes says nothing while I flip around until finding a song from George Strait.

  After finishing at one construction site, we return to the truck.

  “I’ll keep an eye out on your dad,” I promise.

  “I know. You’re good at your job.”

  “You’re acting weird.”

  “He’s getting old, and he’ll die one day, and that makes me sad.”

  “Wait, so this is what you’re like when emotional? Huh, it’s similar to a sad robot, I guess.”

  “Don’t make me tell you to shut up again.”

  “I never actually shut up when you say that. Not sure why you waste your time.”

  Hayes smiles slightly and then honks at another car full of old ladies.

  “Morons,” he grumbles.

  “They’re old.”

  “So they shouldn’t drive. I took away my dad’s license when he got dangerous.”

  “You take good care of him. It makes me respect you more to see that side of you.”

  “Don’t care.”

  “I bet you do. In fact, I bet my compliment made you blush on the inside.”

  Rolling his eyes, Hayes asks, “How is the rental place?”

  “It’s really nice. Thank you.”

  “Do the kids like having their own rooms?”

  “Yeah, but they still share a bed. It’s habit.”

  “Weak.”

  “Said the man who nearly cried while visiting his dad.”

  Hayes glares at me, but his evil expression only makes me laugh. He’s so sexy when he throws a fit.

  “The kids want a pet. I’m leaning toward getting a goldfish, but they’re set on a cat.”

  “Goldfish?” he asks, grinning. “You’re so fucking lazy.”

  “True, but pets take a lot of effort.”

  “Not really.”

  “You say that because someone else takes Nightmare to the vet and for walks. You’re fucking lazy too, boss.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not goldfish lazy.”

  “Whatever. They want a cat, and if they keep askin
g for long enough, I’ll take them to the shelter to find one.”

  “Don’t get a shitty shelter cat.”

  “Where else am I going to get a cat? Please don’t say pet store because that’s just stupid.”

  “No. There’s always some family with kittens for sale for ten bucks.”

  “I’d rather get a shelter cat. Adopting one from a kill shelter will feed my savior complex. I’ll feel like a humanitarian for doing nearly nothing.”

  “Aiming low is why you’re a happy person.”

  “Where are we going to lunch and are you paying? I’d be super happy if you let me get appetizers and dessert so that I can take home leftovers.”

  “Your dreams are now too fucking low.”

  “Is that a ‘yes’ with regards to you paying?”

  “Yeah, I’ll pay so you can burrow away old food like a fucking squirrel.”

  I smile at him and reach over to fix his flannel shirt cover. Hayes stiffens when I touch him, and my smile grows wider.

  “I knew you were trouble the moment you walked into my office,” he says.

  Leaning against the door, I stare out the window and think about the first day we met. I was ready for a raging beast and likely built him up too much in my head. The real Hayes disappointed. He wasn’t nearly as scary as I imagined and a hell of a lot easier on the eyes.

  After seeing him with his dad in that too small house, I can’t help wondering what else Hayes hides from people.

  “Stop thinking,” he grunts while pulling the truck into a steak house parking lot. “I can feel you plotting.”

  “I’m not doing anything, boss.”

  Hayes frowns at me, but he isn’t in a bad mood. With his nearly black eyes, he convinces people he’s always pissed. I’ve figured out how to tell the various shades of grumpy in his dark gaze.

  Hayes knows the restaurant staff, and I wonder if he partially owns the place. I still don’t know just how many local businesses he has a piece of. He might trust me with his dad, but not his house or finances.

  “Can we get the potato skins?” I ask while checking my phone.

  “We’re not on a date.”

  “Are you sure? You did open the door for me, and you’re paying. I also feel like I might be expected to put out at the end.”

  Hayes closes his eyes and rubs his head. I immediately laugh at his effort to play the harried victim of my mouth.

  “Whenever you wish I would shut the fuck up,” I say, grinning, “just know that’s how everyone feels when you talk.”

  Hayes smiles at me. “You fucking refuse to zip your fucking mouth.”

  “Why should I? If you really don’t want me to talk, I could play on my phone during lunch, but I sense you want to bond.”

  “You sense that, huh?”

  “You’re giving off a vibe.”

  Smirking, Hayes nods. “Women are an odd bunch.”

  “I’m only one woman, boss. Just the one broad. I’d think the son of an accountant would be better with numbers.”

  Hayes grins again. “You’d think, wouldn’t you?”

  “So, how did you gain control of White Horse?”

  “I took it,” Hayes says without missing a beat. “When I saw a weakness, I exploited it. When I saw a threat, I eliminated it. No one gave me shit. I had to take it all.”

  “But how? I mean you can’t just walk into a business and threaten them into giving you half. Well, I guess you could, but I don’t think that’s how you did it.”

  Hayes shrugs as if he doesn’t want to brag. I roll my eyes at his bullshit, and he finally gives in.

  “I had a small inheritance from an uncle. Mom suggested I use it to travel. Dad wanted me to go to school. Back then, White Horse was failing, and businesses were leaving. People needed a vision, so I took the inheritance money and bought partnerships with several businesses. I made those businesses healthy while using my power to bully other businesses into working with me and doing things my way. I looked for uses for the local empty land and abandoned buildings to lure new businesses into White Horse. The more new blood into the town, the more my businesses flourished.”

  “You’re pretty fucking smart, eh?”

  Hayes adjusts his large frame in the circular booth. “Yeah, but lots of guys are smart. I was willing to break bones to get things done where other guys just wanted to talk or bribe their ways into power. Everyone has a button that can be pushed. With some people, they can’t be bought or charmed into obeying. They only understand pain and fear.”

  “You’re pretty fucking scary, eh?”

  “I’ve heard, yeah,” he says in a voice reeking of pride.

  “The outfit in Common Bend has backers from out of town. The bikers run Hickory Creek. You do it alone.”

  “If you mean I outsource much of my muscle, yeah. I don’t trust anyone. People are stupid and selfish.”

  “Don’t you have anyone who will watch your back?”

  “Are you fishing for a compliment?”

  “No way do I want to watch your back. It’s too big, and I’m easily distracted. Don’t you have anyone you consider a friend? Does it really have to be so lonely at the top?”

  “I had someone. When he got nailed for a murder charge in Nashville, he could have lowered his sentence by turning on me. He had the info to sell, and the cops were always willing to plea someone down for info that’d increase their conviction count. Moot could’ve made life easier for himself, but he didn’t sell me out. He’ll be out in a year, and I plan to reward the fuck out of him.”

  “Ah, you do have a friend.”

  “That I haven’t spoken to in four years.”

  “Friends are overrated,” I say immediately.

  “You always have a response.”

  “Silence has never worked well for me. The day I’m speechless, call a doctor.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Tell me Moot isn’t his real name.”

  “It’s Sasha. Apparently, it’s a guy name in certain parts of the world, but here in the greatest country on the planet, Sasha is a chick name. So he ended up going by Moot.”

  “Why Moot?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Didn’t you ask?”

  “I’m a guy. I don’t ask questions.”

  “You ask me questions.”

  “Because you’re a woman and women like to think men are interested in their crap. Men know we aren’t.”

  “Fascinating stuff.”

  “Tell me about your kids’ dad.”

  “What about him?”

  “How did you hook up with the rich boy?”

  “I worked in a doctor’s office, and he flirted with me. We went out a few times, and I decided to make him my wealthy sperm donor.”

  “A fucking fairytale.”

  “Fairytales don’t work out for my family. We always end up with the frog that empties out our checking accounts or fucks our best friends or is an all-around douche like Andrew.”

  “Did you like Eddison at all?”

  “Sure. In the beginning, but there’s something empty about him that turned me off.”

  “He didn’t want kids, and you trapped him.”

  “Don’t get all high and mighty with me, you big bully. I’ve seen you tell off an old, disabled woman.”

  “A mean old disabled woman.”

  “Still an old disabled woman.”

  Hayes waves his hand around as if to erase any culpability. “You knew he didn’t want kids.”

  “He said there were too many people in the world, and most were trash. I didn’t give a crap about his views. I’ve never been interested in romance. I like dating for the free meals and movies. Once things get too clingy, I bail. Romance and Wilburn don’t mix.”

  “So you decided to pop out a kid with a guy you didn’t like.”

  “I always wanted kids. At that point, I had a stable job and a decent apartment. I was ready to be a mom. Toby had solid genetics, and his fa
mily would provide for the kids’ education. I still wasn’t sure until he pissed me off one night. Then I decided I didn’t give a shit what he wanted.”

  Hayes’s dark eyes light up. “Pissed you off how?”

  “I don’t know if I should tell you. Giving you ammo to irritate me later seems dangerous.”

  “Don’t be a pussy. Just tell me.”

  Laughing at his hunger for gossip, I relent. “My brother Peat fell for a bad woman, and she treated him like shit. She beat on him, and he took it. Mostly because if he left, she'd faked suicide attempts to make him feel guilty. Then one day, she was wailing on him with a frying pan, and he lost his shit. Punched the bitch out. She called the cops, and he ended up serving three months for assault. Once he was out of prison, Peat avoided her. Moved to a new state and gave up his whole life, but he was free. Until he fell for another bad woman, who killed him when he tried to leave her. The bitch claimed self-defense and the prosecutor decided not to charge her. The fucking whore shot him in the fucking back, and the law believed her.”

  I pause to control my temper from spiraling out of control. Every time I think of my little brother’s murder, I want to kill someone.

  “Peat was covered in bruises, and she didn’t have a mark on her, but the prosecutor didn’t think she could get a conviction after Peat’s criminal past.”

  I grip the table, wanting to shake the world until my brother got his fucking justice.

  “So I told that story to Toby one night at dinner, and he said, and I quote, ‘He sounds like a loser.’ I’d just told him my brother was murdered, and the pampered piece of shit responded in a fucked up way. I decided if my feelings didn’t matter then Toby’s didn’t either.”

  Hayes studies me, looking irritated. “The guy’s an asshole, so why not get a better man to father your children?”

  “Are you deaf?” I grumble, and he smiles at my anger. “My family has bad mojo. Or shitty genetics or whatever. We can’t pick good partners. I’m unable to look at a bad man and see him for what he is. It’s why I don’t date. Toby wasn’t a good man, but he had what I wanted.”

  “Fine. You’re cursed.”

  “You don’t have to believe in the curse for it to be real.”

  “You sound crazy. You know that, right?” he taunts.

  “See, you think of the curse as a magical, paranormal type thing, but that’s not it. Some people are just doomed. They make bad choices. It’s like how addictive habits can run in a family. Maybe it really is genetic, or it might be environmental, but we always trust the wrong people. The only way to beat it is to be the asshole, rather than the victim.”