Table of Contents
A JUNKYARD WEDDING
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Other books by SH Richardson
Copyright
Copyright ã 2017 by SH Richardson
All rights reserved
Published by SH Richardson
Refuse: A Junkyard Wedding is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author’s ridiculous imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author
First Edition
Formatting: CP Smith
Cover design: Alana Sapphire at AS Designs
Cover Photograph Alana Sapphire at AS Designs
Information address: [email protected]
Dedication
To my mom
Prologue
It was getting late and it was time for me to go home. Home. That place was anything but. The broken-down trailer without running water or heat was a makeshift box with a pressed-wood floor that barely held my threadbare mattress. I hated this part of my life, not having the choice of where I wanted to live or who I wanted to live with. If I had my wish, I would stay here at the junkyard forever. I considered it my home, and Buck was more of a father than mine ever was. My decrepit old man was probably too drunk to even notice I wasn’t there anyway. The bottle was his family, not me. I was just a way for him to get the money he needed to buy it. But I had to wait a little longer to get away from him, to escape that place, just a little longer.
“What the fuck you doing, boy? I thought you were going home?” Buck asked me as I stood at the door, dreading the long walk back to hell. He knew I hated that place but couldn’t do anything about it, as much as he wanted to. I was only fourteen and my father was my legal guardian, at least according to the law.
“Yeah, I’m going, just thinking is all,” I answered on a long sigh.
“Thinkin’, huh? Thinkin’ about that titty magazine I caught you boys with? Now, that’s sumptin’ to think about.” Buck was smiling, something he rarely did, especially nowadays. I knew what he was doing, trying to lighten my mood by cracking corny jokes so I would feel better about having to return home. Most days, I was able to suck it up and just walk out the door. Not today; today was hard, my mind and body no longer up to the task of thinking of the good in that place. There was no good, only fucked up and extremely fucked up. Just thinking about it made me sick to my stomach so much so that today I just wanted to cry, something I hadn’t done in a very long time.
“Did I ever tell you about the day I got married?” Buck asked me out the blue, coming to stand in front of me.
“Um…no, I don’t think so.” I wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but the distraction was working; my eyes were no longer burning with unshed tears.
“Took my bitch down to city hall on the back of my bike, fucking cops standing around all over the place, checking out my cut and leathers. Hated that fucking place, too many pigs for my liking.” His nose was turned up like he was smelling something foul.
“Okay…” I was completely lost, but Buck talking about his wife was like an eclipse, only coming about once every so often; but when it did, you paid attention to it.
“Grabbed my woman by the hand and dragged her inside. Fucking judge took one look at us and shook his head no. I was about to pull out my piece and pop him between the eyes, but my woman wanted her wedding day to be special, so I was willing to cut him some slack.” His smile was sinister, quite disturbing actually at the memory of almost shooting a judge, probably wanted a do-over. Buck was insane that way.
“Then what happened? Did he agree to marry you?” I was curious as hell.
“Nope. Cops came in wearing fucking riot gear, bullet proof vests and shit, locked my ass up for ninety days on some bullshit warrant I had in the system. Pissed me right the fuck off. My woman was crying, my bike went to impound, and the wedding day turned to complete shit.”
“That’s…really messed up, Buck, sorry that happened.”
“I’m not. Anything worth having is worth waiting for, boy. The day I got out, grabbed my woman and went right back to city hall. Told that fucking judge to kiss my ass and get on with it. Said the words and it was done. Went home and loved my woman hard, kept her in bed for two weeks straight to make up for missing time.” He adjusted his old-ass package, pride evident in his stance that he had been able to satisfy his woman all those years ago, mixed with a hint of sadness that she was no longer around to please anymore. Just like that I felt better about returning to the trailer park. Buck was right. Anything worth having was worth waiting for. One day soon I’d be free, free to make my own decisions and live my life the way I wanted to, away from the dirt and filth, far away from the life I lived now. I would wait. I had to.
“Yeah, well, I’m glad it worked out for you, Buck, but I’m never getting married. You can forget that shit, old man. No woman will ever tie me down.” I smiled and opened the door to finally leave as I had previously planned.
“Never say never, boy. Best thing to ever happen to me. Wish it for you, too, all of you,” he replied sadly.
“Keep wishing, old man. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I left the yard thinking about Buck’s story the entire way home. Why would I ever want to get married? My own mother had taken off years prior, leaving me alone with that drunken asshole who couldn’t take care of a stray cat, let alone a small child. Buck’s wife left him after their son’s death, blamed him for it and never forgave him. Why would I possibly want a wife so she could ruin my already horrible life? No woman could ever understand where I came from or where I wanted to go in life. She would have to be a saint to want to spend the rest of her days with a dirty, disgusting kid like me. No, I was never getting married. Better still, I didn’t want to. Thanks, but no, thanks.
Chapter 1
Clover
Planning a wedding was for the fucking birds. I’d rather have a root canal than look at one more wedding dress or taste one more piece of overly sweet wedding cake. Six months ago, Range asked me to marry him, and it’d been nonstop chaos ever since. I’d lost complete control of my wedding plans thanks to my mother and sisters. They’d taken over everything from the venue to the writing of the vows. The guest list ballooned to over a hundred people, most of whom I’ve never met in my life. Range was not gonna be happy being surrounded by a bunch of strangers, that much I knew. If I had my way, the Justice of the Peace and a nice small cookout at the junkyard would be enough for me; no fuss no muss. As long as I was Mrs. Range Reardon at the end of the day, I would get married in a morgue dressed in all black if I had to.
The four of us were sitting around my family home trying to finalize the guest list for the fourth time since we started planning this whole thing. Shelly had a full-size bulletin board
sitting on an easel, complete with color coordinated post-it notes, a full-to-the-minute events schedule, and a calendar marked in red so none of these activities interfered with my menstrual cycle. Talk about embarrassing.
“There is absolutely no way we can seat Uncle Joe next to Aunt Gwen. The last time we all got together for a family gathering, he hit her over the head with his dinner plate and she ended up at the emergency room needing ten stitches.” Keen observation from Ashley sitting next to me on the couch typing away on her cell phone.
“They’ve been married for thirty years. I’m sure they can manage to stay civil for a few hours,” my mother replied while shaking her head at Ashley. She knew damn well those two couldn’t act right if you paid them to.
“Can you put that damn phone away and pay attention, Ashley? What’s more important than your sister’s wedding?” Shelly snapped. This entire day had been an exercise in patience, which I had completely given up on about an hour ago; and clearly, so had Ashley.
“I was just sexting…um…I mean texting Sebastian to let him know I would be leaving soon,” Ashley replied with a sly grin. Those two never made it out of the bedroom, or bathroom, or dark alley. I thought Range and I were bad, but Ashely and Sebastian? Good gracious, she needed to carry an inflatable mattress in her purse. I couldn’t blame her for being a sex-starved maniac. She was in love for the very first time in her life, and I knew the feeling well. Range was waiting for my return to the junkyard as well, and I couldn’t wait to get home to my man for some loving myself.
“Mom, can we stop for today? I’m tired and this is getting us nowhere. We’ve been over this a thousand times already. Enough.” I’d reached my limit, throwing my hands in the air. It was time to call it a night. I didn’t give a shit where people sat during my wedding as long as they remained quiet until it was over. I was starting to worry how all of this planning and formality would affect Range on our special day. He had very few family and friends: Sebastian, Memory, and Fox pretty much completed his circle. Max still hadn’t returned to us since he left town six months ago, leaving a gaping hole in Range’s heart. We never talked about it. Range only said that Max needed to get his shit together and he was no longer allowed to do it at the junkyard. I had no clue if he would make it back before the ceremony, but for Range’s sake I hoped he would. This entire over-the-top wedding fiasco was my parents’ idea, not ours. It started out tame enough, but over time had become something to rival one of Elizabeth Taylor’s infamous weddings. The only thing missing was Michael Jackson, and that’s only because he was dead.
“I second that emotion. Sebastian is waiting for me anyway, and it’s archery night,” Ashley agreed, rising from the couch, finally putting her phone away. She had a silly little smile on her face, so whatever archery night was, I was certain it had something to do with sex.
“Archery night? Do we even want to know what that is?” Shelly was moving the tack board to the corner of the living room and out of the way. I had a sudden urge to set fire to it and watch it burn to ash. Too bad arson carried such a heavy prison sentence or I might have taken the risk.
“Sebastian is teaching me how to shoot his long bow. I’m getting quite good at it.” Ashley was wiggling her eyebrows up and down as she demonstrated the proper stance, smiling brightly at Shelly. Any fool could see that archery night was something Ashley made up just to get into Sebastian’s pants. She couldn’t hit the side of a barn with an arrow. Who was foolin’ who?
“Jesus, I just threw up a little in my mouth. Can you do me a favor next time and dispense with the visual? You’re getting worse than ever.” Shelly was shaking her head in disgust as she left the room and entered the kitchen. The rest of us shared a laugh as we watched her mood plummet from sugar to shit from Ashley’s silly display.
“Don’t worry about her. She’ll fall in love one day. God help the man who decides to take her on.” My mother still held out hope for her eldest daughter. I on the other hand knew better. Shelly would never fall for any man, a fact I wished I could change for her more than anything else in this world. My sister had so much love to give if only she would allow herself to receive it in return. The thought made me sad for Shelly. With Range’s love, my life was complete, and I wanted her to have those same feelings of devotion from a man worthy enough to receive them. One day, Shelly, one day.
“Hey, Clove? Can I ride with you over to the junkyard? Sebastian has his car, and that thing is all that! So much speed and power and the way he shifts those gears? Have mercy.” Ashley was fanning herself and mooning like a love-sick cheerleader excited to see her jock boyfriend on the first day of high school. That love connection was strange for everyone, including myself. Ashley was a wild child on most days, while Sebastian was reserved and a bit overly dramatic at times. How those two came together at all was a mystery to me, but the look was a good one for Ashley and showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon.
“Sure, Ash, no problem. Let me just send Range a text to let him know we’re on our way back. He worries about me driving anywhere without him and insists on knowing where I am at all times of the day and night.”
“Range does have his caveman ways, doesn’t he? I hope that doesn’t become a problem after you guys are married.” My mother was concerned, but for all the wrong reasons. It wasn’t control of my life that Range demanded, but the assurance of my safety, which was vastly different. I needed that from him, now more than ever. My nightmares continued to plague me after the shooting, but I refused to share that with anyone. I knew it was wrong to let them believe he was this overbearing Neanderthal that got off on dragging me around on the ground by the hair, but the alternative was having them worry about me and insist on getting involved. I didn’t need or want to draw any more attention to my little problem, and certainly not at a time I should be planning my dream wedding. I had plenty of time to fill them in after Range and I were married. Until then, it was our little secret, one I planned on keeping.
“Of course, it won’t be a problem, mom. Range loves me and would never do anything to hurt me,” I assured her as I kissed her cheek on my way out the door.
“I hope you’re right, Clover. Be careful driving, and I’ll speak with you tomorrow about the menu.” Great. Another day in paradise.
Chapter 2
Range
Holy fuck, I’m getting married soon. What the fuck was I thinking asking Clover to be my wife? I’d never felt so nervous about anything in my life, and I was not even planning the thing. All I had to do was show up and say “I do.” How hard could that be? What if I accidentally said something stupid like “yeah” or “sure, why not?” What if my tux didn’t fit right and I ripped the sleeves out trying to put it on? What if Clover decided she didn’t want to marry me after all and left me standing at the altar looking like a complete dick? I couldn’t do this shit. I needed Buck here to tell me what to do. Today would be a good day to hear one of his bullshit stories about club bitches and free pussy, anything to keep my mind from going crazy over fucking up on my wedding day. Some macho rendition of how he made a better husband than I could ever hope to be. How he handled his woman like he handled his bike, full throttle with lots of lube. Yeah, I needed that old bastard to call me a bitch and cool my overactive nerves from having these ridiculous thoughts.
I found myself standing in Buck’s room that we kept at the junkyard. We kept it just the way it was before he left us permanently. When he’d moved to the mountains, he’d decided to leave everything behind, taking just the bare minimum to survive on. A few changes of clothes and two pairs of boots packed neatly in his duffle bag, and off he went not bothering with the few luxuries he no longer wanted. One look at Buck Calhoun, and it was easy to think he kept his room a disorganized mess littered with trash and dirty underwear. As a boy, I had been shocked the first time I was allowed to enter his room and found it extremely neat and orderly. “Shit has a place for it, boy, and there’s a place for everyone’s shit.” Buck could be a
real poet sometimes.
“Hey, Range, you in here?” Sebastian was calling for me from somewhere close by, so I shouted back for him to come toward Buck’s room.
“Hey, man, what you doing in here?” he asked me curiously as he took a quick look around the place. We never really came into this room except to clear out some of the dust when it was thick; he had to know something was wrong by the way I was standing there for no particular reason.
“Just thinkin’ about Buck, brother. I miss him so much. It’s just…hard sometimes to believe he’s really gone.” Sebastian was a great listener when he wasn’t spouting about some bullshit killer disease, rabid dog, toxic water, or whatever else had him worried for the day. It made no difference in the long run; he was still my brother, even when I wanted to strangle him.
“Yeah, I know what you mean, man. I was just telling Ashley the other day about that time Mem put that cherry bomb in the toilet when Buck was taking a shower; blew that fucker to hell and back. Buck was so mad he ran out the shower totally naked and looking for whoever did it. You remember that day, Range?” We both started laughing as we recalled a naked Buck running around the junkyard, looking for the “little asshole” he was gonna scalp when he caught up to them.
“I remember he never even tried to cover up his junk, so when he finally caught up with Mem, the smack on the back of the head was totally worth it, seeing Buck standing there stark raving mad right out in the middle of the yard, screaming like a lunatic.”
“Ah, man, I remember that old, wrinkled cock of his swinging from side to side as he swiped his fist at all of us, rolling around on the ground. He wanted to kill us that day.” Sebastian and I continued to chuckle as we recalled that time in our lives when we were boys. We’d been such a bunch of hard-headed little shits most of the time it. It was a wonder Buck didn’t give up on us ever becoming productive members of society.
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