by Piper Frost
"Horse. Thinkin' ‘bout buying it for when Jo comes home. It's perfect for her."
I'm met with silence and don't even look up at him. He's looked like shit the last few days, and for good reason. He fucking destroyed this family, scaring her away on purpose like he did. I know she loved me and I don’t think she would leave without my dad giving mighty good reason for her to.
"You gonna bring her back?" he finally asks. I spin and glare at him.
"How the fuck do you think I could do that? I have no goddamned clue where she is, Garrison." He winces at my choice of words, but he's no father to me. Fathers don't fuckin’ do that to their sons.
"Donna knows." His pained whisper is enough to send my world spinning again. Even if only slightly, it's a fuckin' start.
I’m still waiting on Chase to get back to me, but if Donna knows, I'm going to get it out of her tonight. I need my world back.
Brandt the farmer: 43 days without you and life still sucks. I hope wherever you are, you're safe. I still love you city girl.
I know where she is and I'm hoping she responds soon or I'm gonna have to go to New York and find her. Donna told me New York City, but she didn't know anything further from that. I keep trying to get her phone coordinates, but keep coming up empty. I'm not losing faith. Someone at the phone store said they can help me so I'm going up there today. I'm not above begging at this point.
I shove my phone in the glove box and glance back at the chicks in the bed of my truck, all nice and tight in their cartons. This trip is so much different than my last delivery that I have to take a different way there just so I'm not caught in memory lane and wanting to slit my eyes out. I've lived without Jo in the flesh for too long, but the memory of her hangs on for dear life and I pray I never lose it. Not until I get her back.
"Hey, you." Fiona approaches me, wearing her Rural King smock. "Lookin' pretty good." Her voice grates at me and I step aside, carrying the crates in.
"You wanna help me with this delivery?" I grunt, heading to the back of the store.
"Nah. Just got my nails done. I'll have Steve do it." She shrugs and keeps following me, not calling for backup like she should be doing.
I set the crates down and spin to head back to the truck for more when her body stops me.
"What're you doing, Fi?" I grumble, shaking my head and taking a step back. Even at work this girl's tits are hanging out. Work isn't a fucking place to let your tits hang out, I'm just sayin', especially not at a store like this.
"I mean, with your sister gone and everything, maybe I was thinkin' you'd start dipping into the legal pond again." She bites her lip, batting her eyelashes and if she weren’t a girl, I’d have no problem putting her in her place.
Instead, I sigh and let out a stressed chuckle. "Nothing illegal about falling in love, Fiona." I step past her.
"Yeah, but it's gross." She’s following after me as I storm away.
"You're gross, Fiona," I snap, spinning and glaring at her. "I was fuckin' drunk when we fucked! Biggest goddamned mistake of my life!" I bark, turning around and heading back to my truck.
She doesn't follow me and I almost feel like a dick for yelling at her like that in the middle of the store, but she needs to back the fuck off. I'm nobody's but Jo's. I just have to fucking get her back here.
I leave the rest of the crates at the front with customer service because they wanted me out of there just as much as I wanted to get home. When I pull into my driveway, I get a text that makes me jump for my glove box.
City girl: I'm safe farm boy. Do like I do. If you just wake up expecting life to suck, it can't get any worse
Holy fuck.
My eyes scan the screen for what feels like forever and I can feel my heart beating in my throat.
“Fuck.” I run my hands through my hair and let out a puff of air.
Fuck.
When I get into the city nothing feels right. It's dark. It seems lonely. It seems like I don't belong here anymore. It doesn't take long for me to track down Jackie, my friend I used to run the streets with. She's still sleeping under the same bridge and has no plans to change anything. God, it feels like yesterday that I was out here with her, but I've changed so much that I feel dirty being on the streets.
I've slept in someone's piss for two nights now and I can't fucking take it!
"You want to hit it?" Jackie asks, holding out a pipe to me.
I stare at it and Brandt's face keeps flashing to my head.
"No." I get to my feet and shove my few things into my backpack and start walking down the street.
"Kicker!" Jackie calls out my old nickname and I cringe.
I can't believe at one time I loved that nickname. I got the nickname because I was known for kicking when we got into trouble. It started after I was raped. It held strong because of the many times I got in trouble with police and I'd try to kick out the back window of the cop car to get free. I'd kick anyone that caught up to me.
"Fuck," I groan as tears fill my eyes.
Fuck Donna for showing redemption. Fuck Brandt for making me fall in love. Fuck me for ever allowing this life to be mine.
"Jolene?" Donna says into the phone with panic when I call.
"Mom," I cry into the phone as I wipe at my face.
"Baby, where are you?" She's crying too and it only makes me sob harder.
"I took a bus back to New York." I wipe my face.
"Oh, baby. I'm so, so sorry. Garrison told me what happened. Jo, he didn't mean that."
I snicker and roll my eyes. "Yes, he did. And he's right. I didn't call because I'm coming back. I just...I just wanted you to know I'm okay. And I'm sorry, but I need some help. I need some money. I don't know how I'll get it, but, mom…" I start to cry louder. "I don't want to live on the streets anymore."
"Jolene," she sobs and I dart between two dumpsters so no one sees me. "Why won't you come back?"
"Oh Jesus," I groan as the million and one reasons fill my head. "I can't. I never, ever wanted to move into your house and ruin your lives."
"You're my life," she snaps at me. "You are! Not havin’ you here ruins my life."
"God, never mind." Before I can hang up, she calls my name. "What?"
"I'll send you money, baby. Where? Can I mail you a credit card somewhere? Do you have an address?"
The only address I have is an old friend's grandma's. He coulda lived with her, but he chose the streets.
"Yeah, give me a couple days to get it, okay?"
"Jolene, are you safe?"
"Yeah," I lie.
"Can you keep your phone charged? I've been trying to call you since I figured out you were gone."
"Yeah, it's charged. I'll try and keep it charged."
"Call me, baby."
"Okay. Thanks."
"Jo, I love you."
"Love you too." I think I really mean that.
In no way, shape, or form has Donna made up for everything I think I can blame on her, but she's all I have and she wants to make up for it, and right now, this is how I need her.
Convincing Jorge to let me use his grandma's address was a little harder than I thought. He wanted sexual favors in exchange, but we settled on money because I'd sooner throw myself into the river than replace what Brandt’s done to my body with someone else’s touches.
It takes five days for Donna to express-ship a credit card to the address and when it comes, it's in my name. I wasn't expecting that.
"I got the credit card. Thank you," I say into the phone. Thank god that the card came today, too, because I just spent my last five dollars at this donut shop.
"Jo, I wish you'd just come home."
"That's not my home," I lie. Home is where your heart is and my heart is definitely still in the south picking up the pieces of his life.
"Are you safe?"
"For now. I need to get a room or an apartment."
"Jolene," she says sternly. "You take that credit card and get yourself an apartment, and whateve
r else you might need. There's no limit. I trust you." Her voice wavers at the end, because I know she's skeptical, but I couldn't do that to her.
Old Jolene would have sold the credit card for drugs and alcohol. She would’ve been long into narcotic bliss before the card owner figured out a crack-head was running around New York City swiping their card left and right.
"I'll pay you back for everything, Donna."
"I'm your mother, call me mom." Her angry tone is loud and clear. "I'm sorry for everything you went through because of me in the past, but we're family, Jo, and I'm going to take care of you. I have the means to do it now and you're going to let me."
I ignore the mom comment and glance toward a guy that's been watching me for the past thirty minutes that I've been here.
"I've been applying places, but I don't have clothes appropriate for interviews yet so I haven't landed anything," I tell her.
"Go get yourself safe shelter, then go shopping, Jo. Please call me tomorrow."
"Mom," I blurt before she hangs up. "Brandt's not stupid, but don't...don't talk about me. Don't tell him where I am. He’s gotta move on with his life." I bite my lip hard because that thought makes the worst feelings twist in my stomach, but it’s the truth.
"All I've told him is you're safe. You're breaking him, Jo," she quietly says and I close my eyes, only to open them to the man sitting across from me at my table now.
"It's better than wrecking his whole life," I whisper and turn my back to the guy.
"You're not—" That's all I hear, because the phone's yanked out of my hand and I jump to my feet.
"Hey!" I shout and run out the door after the guy that just stole my phone.
I chase him two blocks and watch as people part and let him by.
"Fucking stop him!" I scream, running as fast as I can. He darts down an alley and I whip around the corner to him trapped at a dead end. Pulling a knife I stole from Jackie, I hold it out. "Give me my fuckin' phone."
I don't have Donna's number or the ranch's address anywhere else but on that phone, so if I don't get it back, I have no way to contact her again.
He starts walking toward me and I swing the knife.
"I'll fucking cut you. Give me the phone!" I threaten and he charges, taking me to the ground.
His hands wrap around my neck. Apparently he needs this phone enough to kill for it. Well, so do I, because any good memories I have are on that phone, and I'm not willing to lose them. Instinct and anger kicks in and I stab him, over and over in the back while he chokes me so hard I almost black out. When he becomes dead weight on top of me, I stare up at the sky that's opened up for rain, and I lay here and cry, trying to catch my breath but I'm bawling.
Why couldn't Brandt have been just some boy from town and not my step brother?
There's no questioning the asshole laying on top of me is dead, but it's not the first time I've had to fight for my life, so I push him off and fish in his pockets for my phone. He'll go unnoticed until someone follows the smell of a dead body. I've seen it dozens of times. And then he'll go to the morgue as John Doe. He doesn't even have a wallet and that's usually the first sign to being all alone in this world. I've been there. If I would have died years ago, Donna wouldn't have been contacted. She would have never known. She only found me because a certain cop thought I had potential and needed to get off the streets. He was so sick of booking me, he took it upon himself to track her down. When I was released a day later, it was into the hands of Fresh Starts Rehab Center. Months later, Donna picked me up.
Day fifteen. I only know that because Brandt texts me daily and tells me how many days it's been since I've ruined his life. His words don't say that, but that's what happened. And if I go back, it'll only get worse.
Walking out of another failed interview at a convenient store, thanks to my criminal past, my eyes dart across the street to the help wanted sign in the window of a low-end salon. I can't do it. I think back to being a little girl and doing my mom's hair, nails, makeup. 'You're gonna work in a salon for the rich and famous, Jolene.' She'd always tell me that, and then she got so wrapped up in what she was doing in her own life that my talents were pushed aside. Eventually, I was pushed aside all together.
My eyes dart three buildings down to the Cowgirl's Corral. It's a cowboy themed strip club in the heart of the city. I couldn't be a stripper. I don't have the curves needed, but maybe I could bar-back. I head across and into the dark, dank bar. All the girls are wearing cowboy hats and boots and it makes my heart rate increase. I must be a sadistic fuck to do this to myself.
"Y’all hiring?" I ask the bouncer and watch as he looks me up and down, then snorts.
"No."
"For bar-back or anything? I don’t want to strip."
He looks me over again, then sighs and stands.
"You twenty-one?"
"Yeah," I lie. I'll be twenty-one in a few weeks, anyway.
As I scrub a come stain off the VIP couch, I let out a frustrated shriek and drop my head.
"Jo, what's the problem?" my manager asks.
"I'm sick of scrubbing come!" I snap and get to my feet.
She laughs. "You're not exactly equipped to strip, sweetheart."
I frown thinking about Brandt when she says ‘sweetheart’. He still texts me everyday with how long it's been since I left. I've still yet to respond.
"Cassidy serves drinks and she's a fucking dude!" I bark, making her laugh again, but I'm serious! I'm sick of this and I've applied eight other places, but no one wants to look past my record. I can't say I blame them. I can't exactly go in claiming a cowboy from the south has changed my ways and the way I think about life.
She stares at my tiny chest a few moments, then nods. "Alright, we'll give you a chance serving. Tomorrow night. Tonight, finish cleaning the couches. And when you're here tomorrow night, I expect the getup. Crop top. Short shorts. Cowboy boots. Cowboy hat. And if I were you, I'd wear a padded bra."
I shouldn't be excited I got a promotion, but it's better than scrubbing gum, alcohol, come stains, and whatever else off the couches, chairs, tables, stage, and floor.
My text from Brandt comes late tonight, but it's another reminder of how many days I've been gone. I almost reply. My feelings for him haven't changed. To even get out of bed daily I need to think about him and how he's changed my attitude toward life.
I don't reply. I grab his black cowboy hat I stole, then I grab his flannel I altered to fit me, and I lay in bed, miserable, but not enough that I'll go back and let him, Donna, or Garrison catch flak for me and Brandt falling in love.
Brandt the farmer: 43 days without you and life still sucks. I hope wherever you are, you're safe. I still love you city girl.
I stare at the text and this time I don't tear up like I've been. Every day for forty-three days he's sent me a text like this. I haven't replied. He's gotta know where I am. At least what part of the country, because Donna knows.
He's right. But life doesn't just suck. It sucks more and more every day. I just need to save up enough money and I can start looking for another job, somewhere else in the city. I stopped using Donna's credit card except to pay rent, but everything else I pay for with earned money. I definitely haven't saved up enough to be considered on my feet and taking care of myself, though.
I shouldn't reply but it's been hell ignoring these texts. I don’t know what responding's going to accomplish except darkening my heart a little more.
City girl: I'm safe farm boy. Do like I do. If you just wake up expecting life to suck, it can't get any worse
Brandt the farmer: Why'd you leave me?
He probably already knows that answer too.
City girl: Because I don't want to be the reason your life sucks anymore. I didn't go to the country to ruin your life. I went to the country to sleep until Donna kicked me out. You were the wrench in my plans, and then Garrison kicked me out.
Brandt the farmer: You coming to the country didn't ruin my life. When you left
it sure did. I hate this place now Jo. Where are you?
I smirk. He knows. He's not stupid.
City girl: You're too smart to play dumb farm boy. Gotta run. I actually got a job, and this time I showed up for it.
Brandt the farmer: I love you city girl
I love...
I don't finish it and I don't hit send. I turn back to the mirror to clean up my watering eyes. My shift starts in fifteen minutes and the walk takes twenty.
My shift has never felt this long. Usually a night of being groped and trying to control rage makes the time fly, but tonight, I feel like I've been here eight hours and it's only been one. I want to go home...not just home. The country. I just want to go back to Brandt, but Garrison wasn't wrong.
I couldn't stand the shit that would be thrown at Brandt for him being with his 'sister'. Those people don't think about the circumstances behind it all. All they hear is step sister and dating. I could have met him without even knowing he was my step brother, found out later in life, and we'd still be shunned.
The days are feeling longer as winter gets closer and I've never wished to be in the south as much as I do right now. Not only is the weather warm, but my heart didn't feel so dead down there.
I wake up to Brandt's text. He's sent texts the past two days, but like usual, I didn't reply.
Brandt the farmer: Day 46. Wish you were here.
City girl: Eventually you have to stop texting Brandt
I don't want to say that, but maybe if I act like I don't care, he'll move on.
Brandt the farmer: You're right.
My eyes go wide and I want to take it back.
City girl: How’s the weather?
I hit send before I think about how stupid that is! But I don't want him to stop texting me. I don't want to be here anymore. I want to fucking go home!
My phone rings shortly after I hit send and my hope soars that Brandt's calling me. I miss his deep voice and even that twang. I miss his stupid boots. I miss my heart being happy because of him.
It's not him, though. I don't know who it is because the number's blocked.
