by Vivian Wood
“Yeah… I guess that’s part of it,” Leslie shrugged, knocking back her cocktail. “Now there’s an exception for you… Jared Chalke. He's hot.”
Leslie stood up.
“What are you going to do?” Rose asked.
“I’m going to order us some flaming tequila shots… and then I’m going to ask Jared to dance. Or Robert Sims, he’s looking pretty good…”
Two hours and… somewhere more than six drinks later, Rose was ready to call it a night. She’d grown tired of watching Leslie make out with Robert at the bar.
She wanted to go home.
She pushed to her feet, noting the distinct wobble as she stood. She frowned. That wasn’t good.
“Leslie,” she said. “I want to go home.”
Leslie came up for air.
“No worries. Just take a cab,” she slurred. Leslie'd had two more shots than she had, and was in no state to go anywhere.
“Dude, we’re in Sarepta, not New Orleans. There are no cabs here.”
“I’ll take you,” Jared offered.
Rose looked at him. He was reasonably sober. It was probably about the best offer she was going to get.
She turned back to Leslie, only to see her friend had submerged once more. She looked at Jared again.
What could it hurt? she thought.
“All right, let’s go,” she said to Jared.
Jared smirked at her. She shivered under his gaze, and not in a nice way.
Rose got up and headed to the parking lot. He hit the remote access to a super fancy souped-up Chevy, red as a cheap manicure.
She rushed over to let herself into the truck, eyeing his smirk the whole way. There was something about his expression that she didn’t like, but she just got in the truck and did her best to shut up.
He climbed in the driver’s seat and started the engine. Only then did she realize that he was a smoker. The bar had been full of smoke, but she couldn’t remember him lighting up in the bar.
He lit a cigarette, looked at his watch.
“You staying with your ma?” he asked. She got the feeling that if she said no, he was going to try to come inside.
“Yes,” she said, looking out the window.
He pulled out of the parking lot, going the right direction. Rolled down the window, let some of the smoke out.
Relax, she told herself.
He put his cigarette in the ashtray. The smoke made her cough. He laughed at her, like she was feeble or something for not liking the smoke.
“You know, it’s a pity you were so quiet in high school.” He threw his arm over the bench seat between them, almost touching her. “I bet you were real kinky, huh?”
Rose looked at him, something inside her going cold.
“No,” she said, scowling. He continued as if she had never spoken.
“Or were you a prude? I could see it. Still kinda are one, huh?”
His hand moved from the back of the seat down to the hem of her denim skirt, tugging roughly.
“Don’t,” she said, not liking how shaky her voice came out.
He smiled, moved his hand back to the top of the seat. He didn’t say anything for a while, but then he started touching her shoulder, her arm.
“Please stop,” she said after a minute, squirming away.
“Please stop,” he mimicked. “Why don’t you quit being such a bitch?”
“Just pull over, let me get out,” she said.
“Shut. Up.” He locked her door, then took a right turn when he should’ve kept straight.
She couldn’t even look at him, so she just looked at her own image reflected back in the window. She realized she was crying, touched her tears with a fingertip.Abruptly he stopped the truck. She went for the lock, but he hit it again. Then his hands were on her, up her skirt.
“No!” she said, but he laughed at her.
“You think you can say no to me?” he said, pulling her panties down. “No one says no to me.”
He ripped her panties off.
“Please—” she begged.
9
She sat up in bed, chest heaving. Her whole body was bathed in sweat. She could feel his hands on her body still, feel his hot breath on her neck.
You’re not there anymore, she thought.
She looked at the windows, trying to ascertain the time. It was dark, not even close to time to get up.
She’d had the dream again. She needed to remember that it had been almost a year, that she was moving on.
I’m safe, she told herself. He’s nowhere near here.
She felt sick, the aftereffects of way too much wine for her system. Nothing to be done about that.
The dogs were scratching at their crates and crying to be let out. She threw off the covers, padding to them.
Rose unlocked the crates, then lay down on the newly delivered couch. She pulled her feet up, and the dogs settled around her.
She closed her eyes, but it was a long time before she found sleep.
10
Jared Chalke waited in his truck outside the seedy motel, just outside of Baton Rouge. He lit a cigarette, looked at his watch.
Usually he didn’t involve himself with this aspect of the family business. But recently his father had sat him down and told him he wasn’t hands-on enough.
Like Jared needed a lecture from his old man. The senior Chalke was so corrupt that he had the sheriff and the police department in his pocket.
Couldn’t they do this work? Jared thought. I have better things to do.
But no. So here he was, on a late-night stakeout. He blew a smoke ring, eyed his passenger seat. Thought of all the grade-A ass he’d gotten in this car.
Good times.
He sighed, ready for this to be over already so he could get back to patrolling the bars. It was Friday night, after all.
He saw his target out of his rearview mirror. A little brunette done up like a tramp, half-carrying a blond man. They stumbled past Jared’s truck, the man so drunk he was nearly incoherent.
The woman shot a look at Jared, a little half-smile. He didn’t respond, thinking better late than never…
The couple went into a room after fumbling with the keys. The door slammed. The lights went on.
Jared looked at his watch again, flipped out his cigarette butt. It wouldn’t be long now, he guessed.
About ten minutes later, the lights went out. The door opened, and the brunette came out, adjusting her dress. She walked over to Jared’s driver’s side window, smirking.
“It’s done,” she said, waving a digital camera.
“Give it to me,” he said, reaching for it.
“Not so fast,” she said. “Cash first.”
He glared at her. Stupid bitch wouldn’t agree to do this unless she got paid, of course.
He handed over a wad of cash, and she gave him the camera.
“You should see what I got,” she said, tucking the cash away in her bra. “Really good stuff.”
He scrolled through the pictures until he was satisfied, then tossed the camera on the passenger seat.
“Fine. You stay with him for a few hours, make sure he won’t choke on his vomit in his sleep.”
“He hasn’t thrown up,” she said.
“He will. The sedative that you slipped in his drink does that.”
“Okay,” she said, shrugging.
“Go,” he said. “Make sure he stays alive, and my pictures aren’t a waste of film.”
“All right.”
She headed back to the motel room. Once she was back inside, he backed out of the lot and drove toward Sarepta.
Now that he had the blackmail material, he was free to go about his night. And his night included a lot of booze… and a lot of pussy.
He smiled to himself and gunned the engine.
11
Colt showed up to the veterinary clinic on Wednesday morning to find everything still and silent. He peered in the front window.
Nothing. The lights weren’t
on, and no dogs were pacing the floor, looking for a treat.
He frowned, then looked at his watch. Nine a.m.
Maybe she’s still at home?
He drove the few blocks to her place, scowling when he saw that the windows were dark there, too. He walked up to the front door and heard the dogs bark a couple of times.
She was almost definitely home.
He raised his fist and knocked, whipping the dogs into a frenzy. He heard cursing come from inside, and then the dogs being scolded.
After a minute, the door slid open a crack, the chain keeping it from opening further. Rose pressed a bloodshot eye to the gap. She was totally disheveled, hair wild from being slept on.
“What.”
Not a question, just a statement. An exhausted one, at that.
“I came to see why you aren’t at the clinic. It’s Wednesday morning.”
She looked at him blankly.
“What?”
“I thought we’d agreed to meet today.”
She moved back, rubbed her face.
“Yeah…” she sighed. “I can’t. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“You smell like wine,” he said skeptically.
“Yeah, well. I still slept like shit.”
His brows rose. “Is that it? ‘Come back tomorrow?’”
“That’s all I’ve got,” she said. She started to close the door, then paused. “Sorry.”
The door shut in his face. He turned around, prepared to storm off. Standing behind him was a kid not much older than Shiloh, with red hair and freckles.
“Hey,” the kid said, nonchalant.
“Hey,” Colt said.
The kid shifted where he stood.
“She’s sad, I think,” he said.
“Oh yeah?” Colt said.
“Yeah. I saw her sitting on her back patio last night, drinking smelly juice. When my mom drinks from one of those bottles, she gets sad.”
The kid said all of it so matter of factly, it made Colt’s heart squeeze. He smiled, trying to appear less intimidating.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Jack.”
“That’s a cool name.”
“Yeah.”
“Listen, Jack. Rose is just tired,” he explained. “She’ll be fine later.”
Jack shrugged. “Okay.”
“Why don’t you go home?”
Jack looked disappointed.
“I was going to help her walk her dogs.”
“I’ll bet she’s going to need help tomorrow.”
Jack’s face lit up. “You think?”
Colt nodded sagely.
“Definitely,” he said. “She just needs to sleep for awhile.”
“Okay. I guess I’ll go home and watch my mom clean.” He turned around and ran off toward the rental house next door to Rose’s.
Colt rubbed a hand over his face, then headed for his truck. His brother Walker was supposed to be getting home shortly. Might as well go meet him at the house, since nothing was getting done here.
He drove back home, and was pleased to see that Walker’s Escalade was parked out front of the main house.
He stopped for a second to pet Missy. The pregnant cur wagged her tail as he scratched her ears. If only all women were so easy.
Colt walked up the steps and caught Walker just coming out of the main house.
It was like looking at a funhouse mirror, since Walker had the same dark hair and green eyes. The only difference was that Colt had been in a bar fight and had his nose broken, where Walker’s was straight as the arrow flies.
“Hey,” Colt said, clapping his brother on the shoulder.
“Hey,” Walker said. “Busy?”
Walker was a man of few words, which Colt appreciated.
“Nothing.”
“Wanna ride with me?” Walker asked, pointing toward the barn.
“Alright,” Colt said, shrugging.
They went to the barn, Colt choosing a chestnut mare for the ride. Walker went with Noir, the midnight black horse he’d raised from a filly. Once they were saddled up, they rode out.
Colt was silent, staring out at the quiet landscape. Most of this area was rolling green pastures, dotted here and there with some light forestation.
“Anything new happen?” Walker asked.
Colt looked over at him, then shrugged.
“In the month since you’ve been gone?” he asked. “It’s hard to say. There’s a new vet in town.”
“Sawyer told me about your punishment.”
Colt couldn’t be sure, but he thought his brother’s lips were twitching.
“He tell you that Remy’s the size of a house?” Colt said, changing the subject.
“I gotta go say hi to her and Shiloh this evening.”
“Oh, Shiloh learned how to do that deer call you were trying to teach him.” Dropping his reins, Colt clasped his hands and used them to blow a few low notes.
“I bet Remy was excited about that.”
“Not as unexcited as Shiloh’s teacher. That sound gets annoying real fast.”
Walker chuckled. Colt looked into the distance, at the gradual slope of the land. Eventually it led downward to the creek, although they probably wouldn’t go so far today.
“Looking for anything in particular?” Colt said at length.
“Not really. Sawyer mentioned that Jonas Whittier was going through some family trouble, and thinking about getting out.”
“Getting out? Like selling the land?”
“Yeah. To a real estate developer.”
“He didn’t say anything to me about it,” Colt said.
“He probably forgot.”
“Mmmm.” Colt was uncertain about that. “Developers are bad.”
“Well, some developers are bad. This kind is pretty sketchy. They did Sarepta.”
“No shit? I had no idea that Sarepta had been developed into anything.”
“Yup.”
The rode on in silence for a bit, coming near the line where their property bordered the Whittier property. There was a fence dividing the two properties neatly. Other than that, both properties looked identical.
Historically, the Whittiers and the Romans had both owned the properties since anyone could remember. Both property owners had land usage rights that weren’t written down on paper.
It was just a trust thing, one that went back generations.
“We need to talk to Whittier,” said Walker.
“I guarantee the developers wouldn’t be as easy going about their land usage rights.”
“Especially not if they do like they did in Sarepta, and use a big tract of mostly flat land to build houses.”
The idea of houses bordering the land where he grew up made Colt’s fists clench.
“I’d hate that,” Colt said. “I can’t have that happen here.”
Walker didn’t say anything, but Colt could see distaste on his face too. Eventually he turned his horse back toward the house, heading in.
“So this veterinarian,” Walker said. “What’s her deal?”
Colt ran his hand over his pants leg.
“Uhhh… well, she’s supposed to be working on the clinic, getting things in order so that she can see patients there.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, but she was too hungover to work today,” Colt said. “Way to make a case for yourself, working in a small town.”
“Is she good looking?”
He took a minute to respond.
“She’s alright.”
Walker cracked a smile. Colt looked at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing my ass. You got something to say, then say it.”
“Just… you know. Sounds like you got a little crush going, there.”
“Fuck off.”
“I’m just saying,” Walker said with a shrug. “It’s like you’re both in elementary school and you’re pulling her pigtails.”
“G
et out of here,” Colt said. “I’ll race you back to the barn.”
He kicked his horse into a gallop, flying across the open range. All the while thinking, Walker must be wrong.
He had to be wrong. She was unfriendly, didn’t like to be touched, and frankly didn’t seem to want Colt hanging around.
Colt showed up to the veterinary clinic on Wednesday morning to find everything still and silent. He peered in the front window.
Nothing. The lights weren’t on, and no dogs were pacing the floor, looking for a treat.
He frowned, then looked at his watch. Nine a.m.
Maybe she’s still at home?
He drove the few blocks to her place, scowling when he saw that the windows were dark there, too. He walked up to the front door and heard the dogs bark a couple of times.
She was almost definitely home.
He raised his fist and knocked, whipping the dogs into a frenzy. He heard cursing come from inside, and then the dogs being scolded.
After a minute, the door slid open a crack, the chain keeping it from opening further. Rose pressed a bloodshot eye to the gap. She was totally disheveled, hair wild from being slept on.
“What.”
Not a question, just a statement. An exhausted one, at that.
“I came to see why you aren’t at the clinic. It’s Wednesday morning.”
She looked at him blankly.
“What?”
“I thought we’d agreed to meet today.”
She moved back, rubbed her face.
“Yeah…” she sighed. “I can’t. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“You smell like wine,” he said skeptically.
“Yeah, well. I still slept like shit.”
His brows rose. “Is that it? ‘Come back tomorrow'?”
“That’s all I’ve got,” she said. She started to close the door, then paused. “Sorry.”
The door shut in his face. He turned around, prepared to storm off. Standing behind him was a kid not much older than Shiloh, with blond hair and freckles.
“Hey,” the kid said, nonchalant.
“Hey,” Colt said.
The kid shifted where he stood.
“She’s sad, I think,” he said.
“Oh yeah?” Colt said.
“Yeah. I saw her sitting on her back patio last night, drinking smelly juice. When my mom drinks from one of those bottles, she gets sad.”
