Fall

by Cora Brent

  “Delia Munoz,” he said with a proud grin.

  “Nate Deacon’s ex? Works at Marks Hardware?”

  “That’s her. Nate’s up in Coconino somewhere, communing with nature or some shit. He has a blog where he rants endlessly about people raping nature. Delia thinks he’s gone fucking batshit and she’s glad he doesn’t come around. Her boy Manny is ten. Good kid. We’re gonna take him camping at Four Peaks next weekend.”

  “Well, glad to hear it, Charlie. Good for you.”

  He frowned and a shadow crossed his face. “Life is too damn short.”

  “It can be.”

  Charlie squinted at me. “How about you? Word around town is you’ve stopped shopping.”

  I took another drink. Then I pushed the glass away. I had to get on my bike in a few minutes and I wasn’t doing it with a fucked up head. That’s what had gotten Chrome.

  “My credit’s all maxed out,” I said.

  “Bullshit,” he snorted. “You know damn well that just the sound of your engine drops a dozen panties in this shitty town.”

  “A dozen? Is that all?”

  “Maybe more.”

  “Damn right more.” I was stalling, not wanting to talk about Jenny, and not because I hadn’t been thinking about her. The only refuge I’d been able to find from the dread of tending to Maggie and the wars in my own mind were the memories of every moment we’d spent together. I thought about the way she’d watched me at first; it wasn’t the eager-to-please sense I was used to getting from women. Jenny always withheld a part of herself and I sometimes I felt like she was silently daring me, but only because she was trying to bury something in the process. I never took the dare. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to fuck her. Hell no, I thought about it all the time. Suddenly I remembered the last time I saw her, how I’d had my hand halfway up her hot pussy as she came and my dick surged so violently I almost fell off the bar stool.

  “Jesus, Deck,” Charlie joked, “is that all it takes nowadays? You had like two fucking sips.”

  I gave Charlie the finger to show I wasn’t the slightest bit drunk. He just laughed. Charlie was used to getting flipped off about eighty times a day.

  Every time Jenny had called or texted I’d thought about answering. The sound of her voice was the thing I most wanted to hear. But then Maggie would shout from the other room or Amelia’s face would flash across my mind. I didn’t believe in cosmic bullshit or messages from the beyond, but something was sure as hell stopping me from answering the phone. It could have just been the cruel knowledge of what one person was capable of inflicting on another. I saw it every time I looked at what was left of Maggie Gentry. I understood it whenever Amelia du Pray Gentry was able to break through the thick wall I’d built over the last nine years, demanding that I look at her, insisting that I remember she had existed.

  Jenny, Jenny. Find a nice boy, not a ruined man. Find someone who isn’t haunted and hardboiled.

  So I’d been gone more than the few days I’d promised her. And now Jenny was just another female I’d lied to. My phone buzzed in my pocket but I ignored it. Chances were it wasn’t Jenny and even if it was, I had nothing to say.

  Steven Carson Senior came busting through the door with fire in his face. When he saw his son slouching there at the far end of the bar he collared him as if he was still Little Stevie and not a six-foot-four man.

  “What the hell? You were supposed to be at the garage until closing tonight.” Carson gave his son a half-hearted kick in the backside and surprisingly Stevie went, shooting us a bashful smile on the way out.

  “Shit,” Carson swore loudly, “first I nearly get run off Main Street by some little Prius-driving California chippie, and now I’ve got to nearly bludgeon my own kid to squeeze a day’s work out of him.” He nodded at Charlie. “Hey, can I get a dose of medicine before I take off?”

  Charlie poured a shot of Jack and Carson had it down his throat before Charlie got the cap back on the bottle. His florid face winced over the sting of the whiskey sliding south and then he placed the glass upside down on the counter.

  “Gaps get to you, Gentry?”

  “Whatever it is I didn’t fucking do it.”

  Gaps had driven by me the other day, going the opposite direction on Main Street as I headed to the Laundromat with another filthy pile. He waved laconically but that was all. Gaps had always kept his nose out of my asshole, offering a wink and an about face away from whatever I was doing that might not be kosher with the law. So what the hell could he want now?

  Carson rested one meaty palm on the bar. “Benton,” he spat with as much disgust as if the word was ‘herpes’. “Gaps said he fudged the paperwork a little and the office couldn’t have made the charge stick. I think he did it on purpose, figuring it would be a favor to you, or at least to Maggie.”

  That was not what I was expecting to hear today. I figured Benton would be away for a good long while. “What are you telling me, Steve?”

  My friend scratched his neck and grimaced. “They let him out. Gaps took him to get his truck out of the impound and that’s that.”

  “That’s that,” I repeated and stood up. “Shit.”

  Benton was probably already home by now. Maggie would greet him with open arms, he’d find some crap that he could shoot up her veins and it would all be for nothing. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. Feeling dejected, I waved and took off after hauling my bike out of Charlie’s shed. I gave it a vicious start and peeled out noisily with a thousand obscenities screaming in my mind.

  Fuck it all to hell. Did I really think I could save her?

  Yes, a part of me had tried to believe that. This must have been how the boys felt every single fucking day they were forced to watch the tragedy unfold in front of their faces. At least I could be glad that she wasn’t my mother. My mother was actually somewhere in the greenery about five miles down the road in the Catholic cemetery, her troubles long finished.

  Maggie would always have a place in my heart and she may have unwittingly tarnished the way I thought about women, but I had to let go of it now. I turned down the road which led to the home I didn’t want to call home anymore. I was taking the advice of my cousins and getting the hell out of Emblem for good. Tempe wasn’t far enough away. Nor Phoenix, or even LA. After I grabbed my shit I was heading northeast to the other side of the damn continent. I couldn’t do a damn thing for Maggie. My cousins would be fine on their own. Jenny would learn to forget me. She had to.

  Gentry lore, proven true for generations, said that we fucked and we fought. The violence that ran through our veins was inevitable and had produced an ocean of misery. Even my father – who had never laid an angry hand on me or my mother – was well known to bust heads when it suited him. That was my inheritance; a hair trigger temper in a strong body. Some, like Benton, and like my grandfather, enjoyed the impulse. They relished the power of their own fists and lashed out the most at the ones they were supposed to love. I didn’t like to hurt people. It was a good thing because otherwise I never would have survived in the military. No, I was selfish and I was cold but I never struck anyone without a reason. But as I turned down a narrow dirt road and saw a violent struggle, all reason vanished. There was nothing there but blind fucking fury. I came to a dead stop and a face looked up into mine, its natural savagery giving way to fear as he recognized me.

  “Deck,” Jenny cried and then kicked her way out from underneath him. Benton had let go of her arms and she scrambled up out of the dirt. Her shirt was ripped to the waist and she ran to me, sobbing.

  I caught her. I held her face in my hands. “Don’t watch this, baby,” I said and then kissed her on the forehead.

  Benton had heaved himself to his feet. He was breathing heavily and sweating. He started to say my name but the sound died in his throat. His eyes were wide with terror because he knew. He knew exactly what was in my head. I planned to show him that he was absolutely fucking right.

  Yes, I knew it as well a
s he did. I was going to kill him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  JENNY

  As soon as I was inside Benton Gentry’s house I felt the strong impulse to leave. The front room was very small and very dark and the mustard-colored alcove kitchen did nothing but add to the general gloom. Every piece of furniture was mismatched from every other and all of it bore the look of aged abuse. None of that accounted for my unease though. After all, most of the homes I’d known as a child in Jericho Valley were humble. It wasn’t the poverty in Benton Gentry’s home that troubled me. It was the indefinable sense that something bad hung in the stuffy air. I smelled citrus and saw a candle burning in the middle of the table, likely an effort to ward off the stale odor. It was only halfway successful.

  Benton had already shut the door behind me. He looked at the burning candle with some disgust and set his bottle beside it.

  “Mags?” he bellowed so sharply that I jumped.

  I heard a thump and a crash. A woman lurched from the dark hallway beyond the kitchen.

  “Bent?” she called and when I got a good look at her I gasped. I covered my mouth with my hand nearly immediately, realizing how rude the accidental sound was. The woman, Deck’s Aunt Maggie, wasn’t paying any attention to me anyway.

  “Hey there, honey doll,” said Benton gently and he scooped her thin body up, kissing her on the mouth. Her hair might have once been blonde but now was colorless and patches were altogether missing. The clothes she wore must have been acquired in a healthier time, or for someone else entirely. They simply hung on her frail body now. It was her face that had caused me to cry out though. It might have been a pretty face once but had been decimated in a way that appeared unnatural. When she’d beamed at her husband the effect was utterly ghoulish.

  “I waited,” she muttered in his arms. “I kept on waitin’.”

  “Did you? So you missed me, honey?”

  “Always, Bent. Always.”

  Benton patted her absently as if she were a pet and surveyed the place with a sniff. “Who’s been in here, baby? I know the boys wouldn’t come down here and lift a fucking finger.”

  “No,” Maggie sighed and pulled at her scabby lip. “Boys are out playin’.” Then she brightened. She had a strange accent, difficult to understand, especially when handicapped by her missing teeth. “Deck came home to see me.”

  I stopped breathing at the mention of Deck’s name. I felt uncomfortably conspicuous. Benton had obviously been gone for a while and silently observing his reunion with his wife was terribly awkward.

  “Deck,” Benton hissed, glancing at me. “So where the fuck is he now, Mags?”

  She shrugged. “Marines needed him back I think. Yeah, I think he went back.” Then she noticed me and looked me over with suspicion. “Who’s she?”

  Benton waved dismissively. “That’s just a girl looking for Deck. Her name is Jenny.”

  Maggie frowned and stared at me as if she didn’t know what to make of this piece of information.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I managed to say and Maggie nodded but she looked away.

  Benton ran a hand over his wife’s cheek. “You need to go back to bed, honey doll.”

  “I was in bed,” she said in a small voice but she seemed confused.

  “You’re sick,” Benton said in a low tone that sounded strangely seductive. “Deck ain’t been giving you any medicine, I can tell.” He slipped an arm around her waist and began to lead her away.

  Maggie dutifully rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m all tired out, Bent.”

  “Hush, Mags. You know I can make that all better.” His voice dropped to a whisper and I couldn’t hear what else he said as he led her back down the dark hallway.

  “Jesus,” I whispered and held onto the back of a chair. I felt sick to my stomach. I wanted to be in Deck’s arms. I wanted to get the hell out of there.

  Just as I was about to bolt for the door though, Benton strolled back into the room. He raised an eyebrow and offered me a drink from his bottle. I shook my head. He shrugged and took a drink himself. I disliked being this close to him.

  “My wife is sick,” he said after he’d run his sleeve across his mouth. “She’s been sick a long time.”

  “I’m sorry,” I stammered. “What’s wrong with her?”

  Benton didn’t answer. He put the bottle down and moved to the sink, looking out the window. “If you still need to use the crapper, it’s just on the other side of the living room.”

  As much as I wanted to run away from this sad display of humanity, I hesitated. Though these people repulsed me, I also felt sorry for them.

  “Thank you,” I said. To my relief, the bathroom wasn’t as foul as I’d feared. It seemed like someone had cleaned it very recently. I could smell bleach as I washed my hands in the chipped basin. I pulled my phone out of my purse, on the off chance I’d missed hearing a call from Deck. I hadn’t missed anything.

  Since there were no towels in the bathroom I had little choice but to wipe my hands dry on my jeans before I left. My head was down and I didn’t see Benton until I ran right into the mountain that was his chest.

  “Excuse me,” I said with some irritation. What the hell was he doing skulking right outside the bathroom door? “I’ll be out of your way in a minute.” I tried to get around him but he wasn’t moving.

  “Thought you were gonna wait for Deck.”

  “No, I just-I’ll catch up to him later.”

  Benton smiled like he knew an amusing secret. He didn’t show any sign that he intended to get out of my way. “You and Deck are good friends.”

  My senses woke up and screamed with alarm. The way Benton was staring down at me was the way men looked when they wanted something in particular. But I suspected I’d have a better chance at getting him to back off if I didn’t show fear. Some men got off on it, the fear. I crossed my arms and stood my ground, craning my neck to look up at him coolly. “Yes, we’re good friends. I mean, I care about him a lot.”

  He placed a hand on my shoulder. “I could use a friend too, Jenny.” He moved closer, backing me into the wall.

  “I’m not going to be your friend, Mr. Gentry. I’m going to leave.”

  Benton was breathing heavily and had begun massaging my shoulder hard. “You know,” he said mildly. “I saw what a good friend you were to Deck.”

  “What?” This wasn’t happening. This was Declan’s uncle. His wife was down the hall for god’s sake. What the hell did he think he was doing?

  “Yeah, that’s right,” he said in the same tone of seduction I’d heard him use with Maggie. His body heat was revolting and the smell of rank male sweat was overpowering. “Saw all that sweetness that you offered up that night he brought you home.”

  This asshole had been watching! He’d been watching and probably pleasuring himself in the process. I was still frightened. But I was also mortified. And furious.

  “Get the fuck out of my way, you fat bastard,” I said through clenched teeth.

  Benton threw back his head and laughed heartily while my anger boiled over. Who the hell did he think he was to touch me? Fuck, I would hit him! I would scream. I would bite down on his neck until I found an artery and then I would tear off the flesh until his life bled away. But before I could do any of that he grabbed me, easily pinning me against the wall.

  “Shit, I bet you’d be sweet,” he moaned and moved a probing hand to my right breast.

  “NO!” I screamed and slammed my forehead into his chin as hard as I could. He wasn’t expecting that and he wobbled a bit, his meaty hook ripping my shirt open in the process. “Get the hell off me!”

  “Fuck!” he yelled but he backed away a few paces. He glared at me with as much shock and disgust as if I’d been the one attacking him.

  “Bent?” Maggie called from down the hall. “Bent?”

  He looked in that direction with the face of a captured animal. I took advantage of his confusion by bringing my leg up in a hard kick. The blow l
anded in his gut and he reeled. It was enough for me to get past him and out the door.

  “Wait!” he shouted. “Goddammit, stop!”

  I wasn’t stopping. The Prius was less than fifty yards away. I knew I’d locked the door though. As I ran, my right hand dove into my purse, searching for the keys. I stumbled over something and saw the clay pot Benton had kicked away earlier. My ankle turned and I went down on one knee, panicking completely as I realized Benton was right behind me.

  “No!” I shrieked and picked up the pot, hurling it in his direction.

  “Jesus!” he yelled, dodging the pot. “Listen, you crazy girl, nothin’ fucking happened. It was an accident, that’s all.” I was still struggling to rise and he grabbed my wrists. I saw his gaze travel down and felt my shirt flapping open from where it had been torn.

  “Nothin’ happened!” he shouted again and I fell on my back as he loomed over me.

  “Fuck you!” I screamed.

  “I didn’t fucking touch you!” he screamed back but he was holding me down as he shouted. He was a strong bastard. If he wanted to keep me down there then I couldn’t do a thing about it except thrash and yell and hope that someone would hear.

  Benton had the most piercing blue eyes. His three sons had the same eyes but I’d never seen this kind of vicious spite in Creed, Cord or Chase. Benton Gentry glared down at me with raging hatred. It was all consuming. It was his true face, the sum total of what he was.

  And then it was gone.

  He was looking in the direction of a loud noise and I nearly cried with relief as I recognized it. Deck’s bike came to a stop not ten yards from where we struggled. Benton had gone slack-jawed and limp with terror. As I got free of him and ran to Declan, I really was crying. I was saying his name and burying my face in his shoulder as he held me. No other words would fight their way out. Silently I begged him to take me away.

  Deck held my face in his big hands and there was never anything so beautiful as the sight of him. But I knew he wouldn’t be taking me away from this nightmare yet when he kissed me softly. Then, in a voice that was soft yet lethal, he said, “Don’t watch this, baby.”