by Bijou Hunter
“You can think what you want,” Pat says, unimpressed by my anger, “but I know what I know. I didn’t do anything to your place.”
My fingers ball into fists under the table. I ought to punch his ugly squirrel face, but this isn’t the place. Besides, he’s my ma’s only brother, and she likes the bastard.
“So what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see where you were calling home.”
“I’ve been calling this place home for two years, but you only now what to see.”
“Your ma hasn’t come out, has she?”
“She visited nearby. Not really in town.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“Ma does what she wants.”
“Yes, she does.”
“She mentioned you owed some people money,” I say, sick of him playing friendly when we haven’t spoken in over five years.
“She said that, did she?”
“Yeah, that’s why I just said that she did.”
“Don’t be smart with me, boy.”
“You’re not my dad, Pat, and I never took his shit either.”
Pat gives me an ugly frown that I return in kind. “You sure got rude living out here in the boonies.”
“I’ve always been an ass when it comes to people wanting to use me.”
“I came to see you as family.”
“Without calling?”
“Ever heard of a surprise?”
“Look, you got yourself in trouble. Big shit. It happens. Now if you’re looking for money, you should know I don’t have any to give. My money belongs to me and my needs, and so you’re plum the fuck out of luck. If you’ve come to my town to look for a sanctuary from your problems, you’re also out of luck. My club doesn’t like outsiders. No one here does.”
“I don’t give a shit about these people,” Pat announces, drawing the attention of the entire donut shop. “You don’t either. No man willing to bail on people he knew for his entire life is sentimental. The idiots in this town serve a purpose. When they stop, you’ll ditch them like you did your club and everyone in Charleston.”
I’ve never been great at standing up for myself. When I was a kid and my brother claimed I stole something, I just punched him and moved on with my life. In school if a kid made fun of my family, I didn’t defend Ma and Pa. Nope, I just punched the kid and moved on with my life after a quick trip to the principal’s office.
My problem is I don’t care much about what people say. They’re right, or they’re wrong, but in the end, it’s all a bunch of words.
Now I have Pat pointing the finger at me to distract from his fuck-ups. I know that. He knows that. Why argue over the obvious facts he’ll never admit when I could just punch him and move on with my life?
Except he’s kinda old and Ma once said he had a weak ticker. Punching Pat might end with him dead, and I gotta think that’ll make my ma cry. She has enough problems without me killing her only brother.
“Nothing to say?” Pat taunts.
“Sure. When are you leaving Tumbling Rock?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“You best decide soon.”
Pat and I give each other grumpy looks. Before I can bail, his gaze locks on something behind me. I ignore him until a hand rests on my shoulder.
“Emmett,” Poppy says, and I nearly jump out of my seat.
A sweaty goddess is what stands before me. Wearing jean shorts, a loose white tank top, and those flower heels she loves, Poppy smiles up at me.
“Whatcha doing?” she asks when I stand silently.
Pat breaks through the awkward moment by asking, “Who is this little sexpot?”
Poppy stops smiling and unleashes her glorious bitch face on my uncle. “Who the frick is the dried-up turd?”
“This one has a feisty mouth. You know what that means, don’t you, Emmett?”
I shoot him a dark look. “Her sisters are married to my club brothers.”
“So have you stretched out this little filly?” Pat asks and then laughs. “Oh, fuck, you have. It’s written all over her face.”
I look at a shocked and increasingly pissed Poppy. She wants me to pound my uncle. I want to pound him too. Before my fists can get their wish, Pat says something that stops me cold.
“Wonder if the Charleston boys might want to visit this shithole if they knew the pussy was so pretty and tight?”
I’m frozen by the idea of my old club brothers coming to Tumbling Rock and sniffing around Poppy. They’ve only let me go because they don’t want to piss off their super accountant. Even unable to hurt me physically, they’d have a field day using Poppy to fuck with me.
“This one is as frigid as they come,” I say, gesturing toward Poppy. “Never fucked a girl so unwilling to participate.”
“Hey!” she yells.
“You’d think a mouth this big would be good for something besides her teenage babble.”
Pat laughs at Poppy’s horrified expression. My girl stares at me, waiting for me to fix what my words have broken. I give her a wink and know she’ll catch on to my game.
“Women in Tumbling Rock are lousy lays,” I tell Pat.
My uncle laughs again and then points at Poppy’s red face. I laugh too because the alternative is killing my uncle or dealing with the Charleston assholes.
Poppy spins around and storms out of the donut shop. As long as Pat’s in town, I’ll need to keep our relationship on the down low. I’m not happy to hide my feelings, but I also have a lifetime to shout from the rooftops how I feel about that woman.
31 Train Wrecks - Poppy
Emmett’s words rip me apart. At first, I think he’s kidding. I mean, why would he say such cruel things if he wasn’t joking. Except he let me get pissed and stomp out of the donut shop. He didn’t chase after me. Or text me to say he was messing around. I knew Emmett was a bad man in many ways, but I never thought he’d be horrible to me.
By the time I stumble into Journey’s car, I can barely see through my tears. In the back seat, Ike and Otto watch a video. In the front seat, my sister stares horrified at me.
“What happened to you?”
“Emmett killed my heart. He tore it out, crapped on it, and then shoved it back into my gaping chest.”
Otto makes a weird, strangled sound. When I glance back at him with my red, wet eyes, the boy smartly looks away.
“I don’t want to be alone,” I tell Journey while she drives us home. “I need you to drop everything in your life and focus only on me. Is that too much to ask?”
Journey reaches over and takes my hand. “Of course not.”
My sister isn’t kidding either. We arrive at my empty house where she only leaves me long enough to take the boys to Donovan. Returning with Justice at her side, Journey finds me curled up on the floor.
“I can’t breathe,” I say with my face in a wet pillow. “I let him inside me. He owns me, and I never thought to protect my heart. Now I’m dying.”
My sisters don’t laugh. Well, I don’t think they do. I can’t see past my tears and the pillow stuck to my face. When I do poke my head up, I find Justice sitting next to me. She strokes my hair like I assume she does to her kids. Matilda and Felix don’t need consoling. They’re young, and their hearts haven’t been broken yet.
Journey takes my left foot and rests it in her lap. I sigh when she kneads the flesh. They’re good sisters, but I’m still drowning in so much pain and disappointment. How can I survive feeling this way?
“Why do I exist? What’s the point?” I babble.
“You exist to entertain me. Everything beyond that was a delusion,” Justice says, stroking my head.
“You exist to feed the cats. And make sure the oven is off,” Journey adds.
“My heart hurts so much. I think I might die. What will my funeral be like?”
“No doubt very festive,” Justice says without missing a beat. “People will come from all around to celebrate.”
“We’ll b
low up that picture of you when you had the nasty flu and got vomit in your eyebrows. People will take home copies for shooting practice.”
“Will you miss me?”
“Of course. Did you miss the part where I said you entertain me?”
“I wanted to hear it again,” I say, blowing my nose before losing the will to deal with my snot. “Will you name your future daughters after me?”
“No,” they say in unison.
“Not even a middle name? You’ve gotta give me that much.”
“Does it have to be Poppy or Pauline?” Journey asks.
“Either.”
“How about we name our daughter what Mom wanted to name you initially?”
Staring at her through blurry eyes, I ask, “Do you really want a daughter named Destiny?”
“Well, it’s a middle name, so it’s not like many people will know what crime we’ve committed against our children,” Justice says and snickers at her comment while Journey deepens the foot massage.
“It’ll get better,” my oldest sister says.
“How do you know?”
“I don’t, but it’s what people say.”
“People are stupid. I don’t like people. People should shut the frick up.”
“Emmett was your first, but he won’t be your last,” Justice offers.
“So now I’ll become a whore, jumping from one lover to another. Who am I supposed to be here? Mom? Meemaw? Justice if she hadn’t met Court? None of these options appeal to me.”
Justice wants to complain, but my sobs shut her up. Emmett was everything because he was mine.
What’s next? Will lightning strike down my sisters or the cats? I might be okay with the cats since I’d just adopt new ones but replacing my sisters isn’t an option.
Sitting up, I grab my sisters’ shirts and tug them against me. “I plan to cling to you both from now on. You can’t shit without me holding your hair. I want to be with you every second of every day. Nothing else will matter to you except keeping me from being alone.”
“Can we at least take turns ditching you?” Justice asks.
“No, I need you both with me constantly. My life is falling apart, and you’re the only things I have left to love.”
Journey tries to wiggle free, fails miserably, and gives into my crazy. “What about Mom?”
“Yeah, okay, so she’ll also need to stay with me constantly. Ike too. Otto should be in our group. If she agrees to stops staring, Matilda can join. While Felix has been getting on my nerves lately, we should keep him close in case lightning strikes. Oh, and Jared. He’s strong and can fight off monsters if the world ends. That’s it. Your men are out of fricking luck. If I can’t have romance, you two should go celibate too.”
“Seems fair,” Journey says.
“I knew you’d understand,” I mutter, hugging her. “Never leave me. Never ever ever never leave me.”
“We won’t.”
My sisters agree to the impossible because they know I need lies. Later, they even tell me I look beautiful though my beet-red face is covered in dried snot. My family loves me despite my worst days. They love me when I’m good or bad. They love me every day even when I don’t deserve it.
Unlike Emmett’s love, theirs isn’t fickle and will never fade.
32 Train Wrecks - Emmett
Uncle Pat leaves me feeling dirty. Mostly because I wanted to pound him and didn’t. Now I need to get him to leave town without causing me more trouble. Especially not after I’ve finally gotten my place nearly ready for me to move back. Poppy can play house a lot easier there than she can at this dump of a motel.
I text her twice after I ditch Pat, but she doesn’t respond. I figure she’s irritated that I’m a pussy letting my uncle push me around. Poppy is smart about a lot of things, but she underestimates the level of pure evil I know the Charleston guys are capable of doing.
After my shower, I don’t know what to do with myself when all I can think about is Poppy. I wonder if her hair is up or down. Is she wearing one of those short shorts? I imagine her running around the house barefoot, and my dick is instantly hard again.
“Fuck, I’m whipped,” I mutter to myself.
The sound of approaching Harleys means nothing to me. The motel is near the main highway, so guys are always riding by. When they stop outside and the engines shut off, I realize I have visitors.
My hand goes to my gun, just in case these are Deacon fuckers. Peering from the dirty brown curtain, I spot Court first with Donovan and Journey close behind.
Panic seizes my chest. Why would they be here unless something bad happened to Poppy? Is that why she hasn’t texted me back?
I open the door and start to ask what’s going on. Even preparing for bad news, I’m startled by Journey rushing at me. I back away instinctively, unsure how to handle an aggressive woman.
“What?” I ask with my hands up to block whatever she has in mind.
“You broke my sister’s heart,” she growls. “It seems only fair that I’m going to strangle you with your fricking intestines.”
Her words come out too fast and angry for me to really follow. “How did I break her heart?”
“You’re going to die.”
Donovan wraps an arm around Journey’s waist and holds her back. “Babe, we can’t kill a patched man.”
“You can’t, but I have no fricking problem killing him.”
“Wait, how did I break Poppy’s heart?” I ask again.
“You said she was some bimbo whose cherry you popped.”
“Yeah, because my uncle thought she might be special, and that means he might mess with her to force me to help him. Plus, he was talking about the Charleston club coming here. I needed him to back off, so I said that shit. I signaled Poppy that I was playing a con.”
“Signaled her how?” Court asks.
“I winked.”
“You winked?” Journey yells. “Fine, you can live, but I’m taking your eyelids, so that you’ll never wink again!”
“Whoa, can we cool our tits for a second?” I ask.
Even running interference with Journey, Donovan’s careful not to insist she calm down. I even sense he might hope she punches me. The guy spends most of his day with a one-year-old child, so he wouldn’t mind some entertainment.
“Did you or did you not break up with Poppy in front of your uncle?” Court asks, sounding like the grownup of the group.
“I did not, but I did act like she was just some chick I banged. That’s where the wink came in.”
“Well, she missed the wink,” Donovan says.
“So she thinks I dumped her? That’s insane.”
“I will hurt you,” Journey growls, “if you ever call my sister insane again.”
I open my mouth to clarify how I wasn’t calling Poppy anything. Then I realize Journey is in no mood for my clarification, so I shut my mouth.
“Tell me more about your uncle?” Court asks.
Sighing, I consider what this killer might do to Pat. Would my mom hold it against me if my president offed her brother?
“He’s a troublemaker, and I didn’t want him thinking Poppy was someone he could use against me.”
“That’s pretty dumb, man,” Donovan says.
“I made a split-second decision to protect Poppy. I assumed she’d know I was lying.”
“She’s eighteen, you pile of feces!” Journey yells, despite seeming calmer now. “You’re her first boyfriend, but, yeah, in Emmett’s stupid world that means she should be cool with you calling her a bad lay. Oh, but you winked so everything is just fricking peachy keen.”
Journey wants to hit me so badly, and Donovan isn’t holding her back anymore. Perhaps parenthood has softened her because she never takes the shot.
“If it’s a misunderstanding, you need to fix it,” Court says, clearly a man losing his patience. Normally, I dig when he gets that tone, but not when it’s focused on me. “As for your uncle, no more lying to the fucker. If he starts
trouble, the club will handle him. I know he’s your family, but in Tumbling Rock, he’s no one. Is that a problem?”
“I got no issue with you handling him or anyone else in my family. Well, I wouldn’t dig you fucking with my mom, but she’s not an idiot who’d start shit, so I don’t see that as a problem.”
“I don’t care about any of that feces,” Journey grumbles, stepping closer and pointing her finger in my face. “You need to fix what you broke with Poppy. If you don’t make things right, I will beat the ever-loving feces out of you. Don’t think I can’t. You have a code when it comes to fighting, but I’ll cheat to win. We square, dumb butt?”
“You really don’t like cussing, huh?”
Journey finally throws her punch and hits me in the jaw. Hell, if it doesn’t fucking hurt. The chick ain’t playing around, though I suspect she pulled the punch.
“I’ll go see Poppy right now,” I say, rubbing my chin.
“No, not right now. She looks crazy awful. The last thing her confidence needs if for you to show up while she’s covered in tears and snot.”
“She’s that upset, huh?” I ask, refusing to let myself imagine Poppy so miserable.
Journey hits me again and walks out. For whatever reason, Court loses his angry expression and laughs at me.
“Dude, Earlham women do not suffer in silence,” he says.
Donovan nods. “You’ll want to grovel a lot and bring snacks. The girls like their snacks.”
“I want to go now, but your woman says I need to wait.”
“I’ll text you when she’s ready for you,” Donovan says before following Journey outside.
Outside, Journey speaks loudly on the phone with Justice. I hear them plotting how to kill me. Journey’s anger turns to irritation once Justice complains about not wanting to help carry my corpse to a shallow grave.
“You’re a lazy butt chunk,” Journey says before hanging up and climbing on behind Donovan.
Watching them ride away, I wish I was also heading to the Earlham place. My mind races with things to say to Poppy. I don’t know how she didn’t understand what I was doing. She’s a smart girl and I wasn’t exactly subtle. No matter my confusion, my woman needs soothing and I can’t wait to be the one to make her pain go away.
