The Cornish hens were cooking in the oven and the sweet potatoes, too, as she swept out the kitchen and re-mopped the floor. The back door was wide open, and soldier boy was sitting in a chair watching her and trying to make her uncomfortable. It wasn’t working except when he zoned out or had to stand up quickly because of a cramp in his leg.
“You should be doing those exercises that your father taught you. The sheets are in the cabinet drawer under the TV,” she told him.
“Why bother? They don’t help.”
“Maybe you’re doing them wrong.”
He raised his eyebrows at her. “What the fuck do you know? Did you even go to school or were you living on the streets all your life?” She felt the twinge of pain from the insult, but she held her ground. She was used to him insulting her to get her off his case. She was trying to help him with that, too.
She continued to mop the floor.
“You can learn a lot living on the streets, soldier boy.”
“Soldier boy? Are you insulting me by calling me that? What are you, one of those anti-Americans who feels that the government owes you free shit for being alive? How the fuck did you wind up on the streets anyway?”
“First of all, I am not anti-American. I don’t feel that anyone owes me anything just because I’m alive. I know damn well that you get out of life what you put into it.”
“Don’t you mean how much you put out?” He looked her body over from head to toe. She was trying her damn hardest not to knock his lights out. She had to remind herself for the hundredth time that this was his MO. He was purposely pushing people away.
“Cut it out, Bryant. It’s not going to work. All the insults, the curses and nastiness. You think you’re tough, but you’re not. You’re acting like a damn baby.” She made her way toward the back door. That was when she saw the long, thick snake making his way inside.
She turned to soldier boy just as he was about to verbally attack her again, and he must have followed her line of sight.
“Don’t move, Lena.”
“No shit, really? What do I do?” she asked, feeling the need to bolt.
“Look at me, Lena.” She saw the intensity in his eyes as he walked closer to her.
“Oh God, oh God, I don’t like snakes!” she squealed and began to shake all over.
“Don’t drop the mop!”
He told her just as she dropped the mop and jumped halfway across the space between them and up into his arms. He held her as if she weighed nothing at all then scooted the mop toward the snake with his boot. The snake hissed and carried on as he pushed it toward the back door and out of the house all while Lena held him around his neck and shoulders shaking in fear. He slammed the door closed, but Lena was still scared stiff. Literally.
“That’s what you get for leaving the fucking door open,” he told her as she remained in his arms, holding on to his neck and wide shoulders in fear. She shook again.
“I’m from Detroit, damn you. We don’t see fucking snakes that damn big in the damn city!”
He walked toward the counter with her still wrapped around him.
“You can get down now, Lena,” he stated firmly. She locked gazes with his eyes and was amazed at the exquisite color green that they were.
“What?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“Your eyes, they’re green,” she stuttered, and he set her down on the counter.
He looked her over and seemed as if he were going to say something to her, but right now she didn’t care. He had saved her life and spoken more than he had in the last week.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she slid down off of the counter. He didn’t step back out of the way and their bodies touched.
He reached down to touch a strand of her hair and she panicked. Holy shit, she was attracted to soldier boy. Now what?
“You fucking all three of my brothers?” he asked, and she saw red. Bastard!
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I’m not fucking your brothers.”
“They stop by every night and you disappear with them to the back of your house.” He placed a hand against her waist so he had her pinned against the counter. Her breathing grew rapid, and she wondered what he was trying to do.
“You spying on me, soldier boy?”
“Just wondering what you’re all about, Detroit.”
She chuckled and he stepped away, letting his hand slide across her hip as he lifted it from the counter.
He walked away and disappeared into the other room.
Lena wondered what the hell just happened between them. She could feel the connection to Bryant, the desire for him to touch her.
This town had her so fucked up, but then again, her entire life had been fucked up from the start. Why would now be any different?
* * * *
The following morning Lena wondered how Bryant was going to treat her today. She saw somewhat of a compassionate part of him that no one else had probably seen in quite some time when he moved into action to save her from the snake. The idea that some snake could get into a house like that gave her nightmares, and last night she placed towels over the bottoms of the front door and back door as a precaution. She sure as hell wouldn’t leave the doors open to get a nice breeze in again.
She also thought long and hard about him being a soldier and sacrificing his life for his country. That took someone special, and maybe the experiences he had over there weren’t pleasant and they changed him. Hell, she had changed when she was forced to live on the streets and survive on her own. Her heart had grown cold and hard. She understood that even if his brothers couldn’t.
Lena showed up at his home anticipating his rude comments and behavior, but she smiled as she entered through the front door. As she walked inside, she immediately saw that Bryant wasn’t sitting in his chair. Instead he was sprawled out on the floor in pain. She hurried over to him.
“Are you okay?” she asked as she began to lower to the floor.
“Get out of here, Detroit! Leave me alone.” He cried out as he lay back down on the floor. His brow was perspiring, and it seemed like his leg was cramping up.
“Should I call your father?” she asked cautiously as he swung his head to look at her, giving her that look she was learning to regard as his “don’t fuck with me,” military look. His green eyes were filled with anger. If she disobeyed him, then there would be hell to pay.
“Don’t you fucking dare call anyone!”
“Then let me help you. What can I do?” Lena asked as she knelt down beside his leg.
“No! Go away, and I’ll deal with it,” he yelled again. This time his eyes glazed over. He was in major pain and refused to allow her to get help.
She reached for his leg, and he grabbed her wrist so hard that she fell against his chest. His face was inches from hers.
“I. Don’t. Want. Your. Fucking. Help,” he stated through clenched teeth.
She swallowed hard. His eyes showed the pain and the perspiration on the collar of his shirt looked hours old. He might have been here all night, stuck like this.
“You know, soldier boy, you’re really starting to piss me off with your macho, ‘I don’t need anyone’ bullshit.”
He literally growled at her as he held her wrist tighter and pulled her closer to him.
“You think you’re tough, Detroit? You think you’ve got what it takes to defy me?”
She wondered where the hell he was going with this. She knew nothing about men, and the Jones brothers were the epitome of Alpha males who liked to dominate and rule. She swallowed hard.
“I think you’re scared of me,” she replied, and he released her wrist and tried to shove her away from him.
“You’re fucking crazy. Get off of me.” He told her as she sat up. She didn’t reach for her wrist to rub it. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction that he hurt her.
“If you’re not scared of me, then let me help you. Maybe if I rub down your leg, it will ease the ache?”
/> She reached for his leg, and soldier boy shot his venom.
“You just want to touch me. I get it, Detroit. You want to fuck me like you’re fucking my brothers.”
She swallowed her anger and annoyance. He was being cruel because she was getting to him.
She smiled at him as she reached for his leg and began to rub it.
“I thought we went over that, soldier boy.”
He fell back onto the rug and moaned and groaned as she massaged the tight muscles. The more she rubbed and massaged, the looser his leg got. She could actually feel the tightness disappear.
He placed his arm over his eyes. He looked utterly exhausted.
“How’s that?” she asked him.
“That’s enough,” he scolded.
“Do you need help getting up?” she asked as she absorbed the fact that such a big, mean, strong man was lying on the floor in such agony and pain. He refused help to do some exercises and to assist him around the house because he didn’t want his family to see him this way.
He moved his arm and looked at her.
“What are you staring at? Never seen a cripple before?” She was shocked. That’s what he thinks he is?
“I’ve been on my own for years and seen a lot of things. Things that I don’t care to remember and people I would be fine with never seeing again. I’ve seen real cripples, not men like you who insist upon holding on to the past and giving up instead of fighting for what they deserve.”
“You think that’s what I’m doing? You think I’ve given up?”
“Hell yeah, soldier boy. I heard you howling at the moon in one of your nightly drunken states, asking the good Lord above to take you.”
He looked shocked but she didn’t care. Maybe he needed a bit of his own medicine.
“Yeah, well, what do you know about war, sweetheart? What do you know about watching your friends, your good buddies, die around you, being blown to pieces while you lie there helpless? You don’t know a fucking thing about death, about watching those you care about suffer, get tortured then killed as if they were animals. So put a cork in it, darling, and get the fuck out of here.”
She could practically feel the strike to her heart. The poor man had witnessed friends dying in war. She sat back on her heels and looked at him.
“I’m sorry you went through that. You’re right about me not knowing how it is to be in war, but you’re wrong about what I’ve witnessed and experienced. I lived on the city streets of Detroit, honey. I was homeless, dodging everything from drugs, gangs, prostitution, and even a few stray bullets during drive-bys and gang wars. I’ve seen my share of kids left dead on the streets, young girls raped and left to die as they shot up with heroin and crack. I’ve seen a lot of heavy shit in my life, Bryant, but I have yet to give up. I never sold my body to get food when I was starving and didn’t eat for over a week. I didn’t join a gang or engage in their protection so I could live that kind of life. You know what? I don’t need to explain anything to you. But know this,” she stated as she stood up and pointed down at him, “I’ve had no one to love me, care for me, or even bother to give a shit about me. I am alone in this godforsaken world, Bryant! You’ve got a whole family and town filled with people who care. Do the world a favor and suck up your pride and get your life back. Now that I would be impressed with.”
Lena walked away and began to do her chores as the tears reached her eyes and she fought to keep them at bay.
Chapter 8
“What the fuck are you doing, Triumph? We can’t just leave her here.” Troy stated as they looked at Ariel laid sprawled naked on the bed. She was bleeding from her stomach. Triumph had stabbed her.
“She should have fucking told me where Lena went. I told her that time was running out and tell me where the bitch went,” he yelled.
“Why do you give a shit? Lena thought she was better than everyone else because she was working instead of whoring that model body out.”
“She was mine, Troy. She was going to be my bitch, my piece of ass. She was perfect and just twenty-one.”
“You’re living in a fantasy, Triumph,” Troy stated, and an instant later Triumph had him by the throat and wedged up against the wall.
“Why is that, Troy? You think she was too good for me?”
“She thought she was.”
“I’ve been searching everywhere for her. She’s disappeared, is hiding out somewhere. I want to know where she is. I want her, and if I can’t have her, then no one else will.”
Triumph released Troy, and Troy fell to the ground.
“Clean up this fucking mess, and get rid of the bitch. She’s no good to us anymore. Then go meet Smiles down by the pickup spot. I’ve got some heavy hitters coming in by noon tomorrow. I don’t need the dead body of some white trash whore fucking things up.”
“No problem. I’ll handle it,” Troy said as he got up off the floor and called in some others to help get rid of the body.
* * * *
It was becoming a regular routine. Lena would work at Bryant’s all day, and they would pussyfoot around their attraction while he sat and watched her. He didn’t say much since their argument the other day in the living room, but at least he was looking at the papers with exercises on them. He was at battle with himself, and there wasn’t much more she could do to push him.
As she cooked up some salmon with teriyaki sauce and made Bryant’s plate up for whenever he would feel like eating dinner, she heard a truck pull up outside. She washed down the counter as she heard the knock at the front door.
Lena looked at Bryant and raised her eyebrows at him.
He stared at her and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He wasn’t going to answer it.
Lena began to walk out of the kitchen.
“Whoever it is tell them to get the fuck out of here. I don’t want any visitors. It’s bad enough I have to deal with you.”
She ignored his comment and headed toward the front door.
As she opened it, she saw Frank and Abigail.
“Hi,” Lena said then motioned for them to come inside.
“Oh, is it all right with Bryant?’ Abigail asked, and she looked so timid and afraid. Lena wondered if Bryant had treated his mother the same way he treated everyone else. She was a good woman with a big heart. Her husbands were exceptional men and wanted to do whatever they could for their sons.
“Lena, I told you no visitors.”
Frank and Abigail hesitated a moment.
“Nonsense. They’re not here to see you, soldier boy, they’re here to see me.” Lena took Abigail’s hand and walked her through the living room and into the kitchen.
“The place looks amazing, Lena,” Abigail commented, ignoring Bryant’s snarls and dirty looks.
“How are you doing, son? You look good,” Will stated.
Bryant gave him a dirty look.
“Come on in, Will, I just made a batch of fresh sweet tea. You know I never had sweet tea before coming out here to Texas. At least none with fresh mint leaves and home brewed. You know that Kenny taught me how to make it?”
“Really? That’s nice. I’d love some,” Will stated, and he joined them in the kitchen.
Lena went about cleaning up the pans from cooking.
“I was just about to head home. I have to work tonight at Rocky’s and then tomorrow night.”
“I thought you were done working there after those men tried to hurt you?” Will stated, and Bryant walked into the room.
“Someone tried to hurt you?”
“No big deal. That was weeks ago. I need the money. Some of us can’t sit around on our asses and live off of the family heritage,” Lena stated with attitude, and Bryant walked out of the room.
“Lena, should you be speaking to him that way?” Abigail asked and Lena smiled.
“If he can dish it out, then he better be able to take it. So, what brought you by today?”
Abigail shook her head and smiled as she took a sip of the tea. “This is rea
lly good. We wanted to try and see how he was doing. I guess it was a wasted trip.”
“Maybe not. He’s coming around.”
“Yeah, he didn’t kick us out and tell us off as he threw beer bottles at our heads,” Will stated and Lena gasped.
“He didn’t?” she asked, and they nodded their heads.
Lena was annoyed. How could anyone treat people who loved them in such a way?
“Well, those days are over.”
“We’d better get going. This is a lot farther than we’ve gotten inside his house before. The place looks amazing, Lena, and the food smells good,” Will stated as he placed the glass into the sink.
“He looks a hell of a lot better, too, Lena. He must like your cooking.” Abigail rose from the seat. As Lena walked them outside, Bryant was standing on the porch.
“Good-bye, son. Hope to see you again soon,” Will said, and Abigail touched Bryant’s arm. He of course pulled away and went back inside.
Lena could see the sadness in Abigail’s eyes. She smiled to her.
“It will get better,” she whispered then kissed Abigail and Will good-bye.
What she would do to have such loving parents as the Joneses. She couldn’t even imagine having more than one father who loved her, never mind a mother.
Shaking her head, she looked out toward the truck, and she saw some cowboys on horseback.
She waved as they waved before she went back into the house.
The moment she walked through the living room, Bryant grabbed ahold of her arm and pressed her against the wall.
“You think you’re real slick, Detroit, don’t you?” he asked as he wedged his thigh between her thighs and held her arms against the wall.
“What the hell is your problem?”
“You. I don’t want anyone visiting. I don’t need to see them and look into their eyes and know that they feel sorry for me.”
“No, Bryant. You are filled with excuses. They love you.” He abruptly released her arms and stepped away from her. He ran his hand through his hair. It was getting longer, and he could use a haircut and a shave.
Lena's Happily Ever After [The Town of Pearl 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 9
