Silverbow

by Shannon Simmons

  I nursed a beer while the violent ocean of conversations crashed all around me. It was nice to have Murphy drowned out for a while. I wondered if the murders would bring the pigs into our zone. They usually tried to stay out of it as much as possible, some of them even made a little extra cash by doing so. It seemed like someone was always paying someone else off for one reason or another. The money was good and secrets were kept.

  My attention was quickly torn from the television when Mr. Yates stumbled through the doors. The bar grew silent as they spotted the blood on his hand and the body lying outside on the porch behind him. Everyone sat still and tried to figure out what the fuck was going on. Greyden rested his hand on the shotgun beneath the bar close to me.

  “Yates, man, are you okay,” he asked in a collected tone. One thing I admired about him was his grace under fire. Yates was obviously drunk and upset. He wiped his hand on the side of his jeans and then turned to point at the motionless body on the porch. All he could do was shake his head. His worried dark eyes looked lost until they found me. His mouth moved but his words were on a delay.

  “Dakota, its him. Its one of them. Those fucking bastards took my boy and then your father. I fucking killed him. I killed him,” he informed me and stumbled closer to me, still pointing behind him though the door began to fall shut. A few men close to the exit jumped up to go check the body and vanished outside. I slid off my stool and took Mr. Yates by the arm. I assisted him to a seat at the bar and Greyden grabbed a wet cloth to clean him up.

  “Are you sure its one of them, Mr. Yates. How can you be sure,” I asked and tried to watch my tone so that I would not upset him further.

  “I carved that motherfucker’s mouth like a jack-o-lantern the last time I saw him. I knew the scars as soon as that fucker smiled at me,” he mumbled and let his eyes fall to the bar’s top. “I noticed he’s been hanging around these parts. I wasn’t sure at first. Then tonight he showed up at my wife’s store. She said she went to close up early and he wandered in on her. That Mr. Hines faggot was helping her stock shelves and the fucker tried to rob them. I came to pick her up from work and caught him red handed. I let Hines take Vicky home and I gutted this prick like a motherfucking pig and came to find someone to help me get rid of him.”

  I sat wide eyed with a million things running through my head. One of my father’s killers was filleted on the porch just outside, Mr. Yates was a fucking idiot for sending his wife home with Hines and we now had a body to dispose of. I couldn’t find any words. Greyden put his hand on my shoulder and took Mr. Yates by the arm.

  “Let me get you home. We will take care of the body. Your truck too if it needs cleaning,” he informed him as if he were a pro at this and waved at Laney behind the bar. “Laney, drive him home. Take your time,” he added knowing just as well as I did that Hines was probably fucking his wife at their house right about now. Laney grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and nodded to Greyden. She would make sure he would rest well tonight and possibly not recall tonight’s events.

  Greyden helped them outside and around the body. I was on their heels. I wanted to get a good look at the body and see the face of one of my father’s killers. I watched them load Yates into Greyden’s S10. Greyden dropped his keys into Laney’s hand and motioned for her to call him if she needed any help. “Again, take your time. I’ll get this all cleaned up for you,” he assured her and stood watching as they drove off.

  My eyes turned to the body. Sadly, it didn’t even bring a fraction of justice to my gut. I stared down at a man in his mid-twenties, dark hair and a scar that ran up both sides of his cheeks like the Joker. It made my face hurt to look at it. His head had nearly been severed and the sight made my stomach churn. His leather jacket was open and so was his chest cavity. I covered my mouth as I witnessed odds and ends oozing from his chest and stomach. Mr. Yates had really done a number on this guy.

  I dropped down to my knee and patted down parts of him that weren’t covered in blood while trying not to breathe. I managed to find a wallet in his back pocket and flipped it open. There were several hundred dollar bills in it and a Nevada license with a Las Vegas address. I pocketed it all and tucked the wallet into his jacket. Greyden stomped up the steps and yelled out to the guys who had been seated at my table. Four bouncer sized men stood and headed in our direction. Greyden talked to them for a moment and then tossed them the keys to Mr. Yates beat up truck. His drunk ass knew how to tear up a good truck. They picked up the carcass and tossed it into the blood soaked bed of the truck. Without any further delay, they drove off and Greyden made a comment about a glorious bon fire to be had tonight.

  I choked down the furry that had surfaced in me and chased it with a few more drinks that night. My fingers fidgeted with the driver’s license that I had taken from the body as I tried to think about what I wanted to do with it. Did I want to try to hunt down the murderers or did I want to just let things be? Something told me that his friends would come looking or him; that they would make my job easy for me. I wanted them to join their friend’s ashes in the middle of a Nevada desert. I hoped that they would mistakenly think they would be forgotten in three years and step foot back on this turf. I had never killed a soul my whole life but no one ever said I wouldn’t. When my last bottle was empty I left it on the bar with my paid tab and without saying “goodbye” to anyone.

  Sunday slapped me with a hangover. I woke up with a crick in my neck, cold as fuck and with my father’s Browning resting on my chest. I sat up to find I had slept the night away in the bed of my truck in the middle of the open desert. An empty cheap rum bottle rolled as I stood and shook off the morning’s chill. I rubbed my eyes and lifted my arms high above my head to stretch. I leaned against the cab of my truck and crossed my arms over the roof while I watched the sun over the red rock tops. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the driver’s license and gave it another look.

  The guys name was Rick Cooper and he was an organ donor. Sadly, none of his organs survived Mr. Yates’s attack and they were all ash in the bottom of a barrel somewhere now. I eyed the address again and crammed it back into the pocket of my jeans. I’d give his boys a week or two to show their ugly faces and if they were smart, I would make a trip to Las Vegas instead.

  I hopped out of the bed of the truck and climbed inside. My truck purred and kicked up dust as I headed back to the road. Greyden would worry about me but not too much. It wasn’t the first time I killed a night off in the desert shooting at the stars.

  CHAPTER 6

  Sunday passed in five minutes and before I could take a second breath, it was Monday. I had already climbed out of bed, had a little breakfast and dressed before my doorbell rang. I could hear a tow truck outside and peered out the side window to see the rusting metallic green Bel Air being lowered onto the drive of the shop. I turned and opened the door with a sleepy smile.

  “Charlie, love, you are here,” I gushed and pushed open the screen door for him. Charlie stood about six feet tall, his limbs were slender but toned and his long flat ironed raven hair hung over his arctic eyes in a sultry shag. My dearest Charlie was quite flamboyant and pulled off eyeliner better than I ever had. His god-like lips were heavily glossed and his lush lashes were painted midnight black to bring out his ice blue eyes. He smiled and I felt my heart skip a beat.

  “Aw, my baby is happy to see me,” he replied and gave me a hug, kissing both of my cheeks. “Girl, I hope you know what you are doing with that piece of shit because I sure as hell don’t. I need a fly ride though,” he said as he pretended to powder his nose in an invisible rearview mirror and posed like he was leaned back in a driver’s seat with his wrist hanging daintily over a steering wheel. He smirked and tossed his hands in the air. “Where is that hunk of yours,” he asked and peered around me into the kitchen.

  “He is already at work, dearest,” I replied and cut my eyes at him. He had had a crush on Greyden since they met at the bar three years ago when this beautiful gay man sauntered into town
. He came from Las Vegas and had been dating his ex cell-mate since they were both released on good behavior. Charlie had had a bad habit of shopping for five-finger discounts and spent a little time behind bars where he met his, now ex, boyfriend that brought him out this way. Charlie no longer lived out here in Silverbow but he returned often to visit friends. He always managed to send business my way too and he was quick to call me when this rusting gem fell into his lap.

  “Shame, I wanted to see if he would leave you for me. You know I have to offer every time I see him,” he teased me and licked his lips.

  “Too bad he isn’t a pole dancer,” I replied and pointed at his crotch while shaking my head. He rolled his eyes and snaked his head back and forth like the heated women on the Jerry Springer show.

  “Bitch, please. I bet this ass is tighter than that snatch,” he said as he pointed back at me and then laughed. I shook my head and held my hand out.

  “Give me the keys, classy lady,” I said sarcastically. He reached into the pocket of his tight designer jeans and handed them over. “I will give you a call when it’s all done. I have a new guy coming to help me out for a while and he claims this is his forte. We will see,” I added.

  “Is he yummy,” he asked and flashed a taunting smile.

  “Anything with a cock, tight ass and a little chest hair is yummy to you,” I replied and he nodded. “I don’t think this one would really be your type.”

  “Bitch, you are greedy. You can’t have them all,” he scolded me and then placed one hand on his hip and the other to his ear. I listened and could hear a car coming our way. There was no doubt that it was Murphy. I bit my lip and grinned. This was going to be interesting.

  We moved outside onto the porch and watched as the blue Chevelle pulled into the driveway behind my truck and shut off. Murphy climbed out and looked us over as he approached the house. Heavy boots scuffed the narrow walkway. Wearing black Dickies and a white T-shirt, he looked ready for work and extremely edible. He reached up to remove his cheap sunglasses and arched a brow as his curious gaze swept over us. I pressed my lips together and tried not to flash a cheesy grin as Charlie stepped in front of me and offered his hand out to Murphy. I found myself holding my breath.

  “Hello, handsome, I’m Charlie. Dakota tells me you will be restoring my car,” he said in the most feminine way possible. “May I stay and watch,” he asked and winked at him as Murphy took his hand to shake it. Murphy seemed to be in the entertaining mood and lifted Charlie’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. Charlie let out a delightful gasp and turned to give me a snotty glance over his shoulder.

  “I’m Murphy. Charlie, you can watch all you want as long as you don’t touch,” he charmingly replied. Even though Murphy was rejecting Charlie’s advances Charlie still blushed like a school girl. I stuck my tongue out playfully at Charlie when he turned to kiss my cheeks.

  “Lady, I must go. Thanks for taking the time to fix that hunk of junk. I look forward to the finished product. Don’t forget, red,” I nodded and hugged him goodbye. He turned on heel to face Murphy who had joined us on the porch and smiled as he pointed a black painted nail into Murphy’s chest and licked his lips…implying that he could touch all he wanted. I hid away my grin and turned my face away from them. When I turned back Murphy was watching Charlie saunter away with one brow arched shaking his head. I couldn’t fight back the laughter and walked inside covering my mouth.

  “I’m glad this amuses you, D,” I heard Murphy growl as he stepped inside behind me and followed me into the kitchen. I paid his comment no attention and grabbed the shop keys off the wall and exited the house through the back door knowing he would follow. With my back to him, I cut across the yard smiling and listening to him curse under his breath.

  I opened up the shop while Murphy took a look at the 1952 Bel Air parked in the driveway. I tried to keep myself from staring at him as he examined the old car. Stepping into the office, I unbuttoned my jeans and slid out of them and grabbed a pair of red coveralls off the wall. With my black boy shorts and black tank top on, I started to climb into the red uniform and almost fell when a tap at the office door window startled me. I glanced up as I collected myself and finished pulling them on. Murphy let himself in as I stood to zip myself up and held his hand out. I reached into the pocket of my folded jeans on the desk and handed him the keys to the Bel Air. Without acknowledging the fact that he had just seen me in my skivvies he left the office and began working on the old car. I was honestly disappointed that he didn’t make a comment or even look me over with violating eyes.

  Before I could leave the office the phone began to ring and appointments were being made. Business was shockingly good for a Monday. The day flashed by in a hurry and before I knew it I was ringing up the last customer of the day and shoving Murphy’s cut into a white envelope. He had worked on the restoration project most of the day but found time to stop and help me with a few things here and there. The day didn’t go by fast enough to let me miss the fact that Murphy was all business and no play today. He was a hard worker and I found that I appreciated this about him more than anything else but something still bothered me.

  The office door closed loudly behind me as I stepped into the garage and made my way to the third stall where the rust bucket was lifted without its tires. We would need to order some whitewalls; I made a mental note. Murphy was working on the exhaust and I ducked beneath the car to join him. He gave me a casual smile and continued to work. I suddenly felt like something was wrong or missing. There was no heat between us. He wasn’t toying with me today. Since he arrived he had given Charlie more attention than he had given me. For the second time today, I was disappointed.

  “Anything else coming in today,” he asked and offered me a quick glance. I only shook my head and laced my arms over my chest and looked up at the car. “I’m going to need some serious parts, D,” he said as he glanced over the undercarriage with a worried look. I nodded and left him under the car alone. Heading toward the office, I heard him clear his throat and follow me. I grabbed a thick catalogue off a shelf and turned, tossing it to him.

  “The name is, Dakota,” I snapped. “Make a list. I’ll call it in tomorrow,” I said hastily and turned my back to him again. I found myself being a little elementary over him not paying me much attention and just as I turned to correct my childishness I found him with his arms crossed over his chest, confusion and temper in his eyes.

  “What is with you,” he asked. His voice reclaimed the huskiness that I had grown fond of. I offered him no answer and glared at him. He had it all figured out on his own. I moved for the door but his thick frame blocked my exit. “You seemed to have a big problem with my behavior around you the other day. I came in today looking to watch myself around you, hoping you’d be happier with me and not send me out the door again. Now you are acting like a deserted puppy,” he verbally spanked me. My jaw tightened because I knew he was right and I had no rebuttal. I was angry now. He suddenly wanted to play Mister Nice Guy after he showed cocky pleasure in fucking with me before and I still swore that it was his headlights outside the other night. I remained silent and watched him begin to boil. I wasn’t buying this sweet bullshit. “Women,” he growled and turned to leave the office.

  I quickly emptied out of the glass cube of an office when I heard his Chevelle fire up and I watched as he tore off down the road kicking up dust. Suddenly all the hairs on my body stood on end and I felt a feverish breeze roll past me. I could feel him; his temper. The way he radiated out like that made me weak in the knees. I found myself no longer caring about how he did it but just wanting him to keep doing it.

  Then unanticipatedly, as if he could read my mind or feel my needs, I felt him again. The heat rippled over me again and I took three steps backwards and braced myself against the garage wall. That static touch that I had not felt since the other day in the kitchen returned with a dismantling force. I buckled over as my knees met the hard floor and pleasure disrobed my attit
ude. My hand slid between my thighs over the coveralls as I pulled my legs tightly together and the nails of my free hand scrapped the cement floor of the shop. My breathing grew heavy as the heat pulsed again and this time made me cry out. I had never been shoved to the edge of climax so quickly and certainly not like this. I felt my eyes roll as I forced them shut and pulled myself into a ball on the ground. My body quaked as the electric current released my tension and set me free. I moaned into the crook of my arm and bit down as my body gave in with welcome defeat.

  Just as quickly as it came, the supernatural seduction vanished. I was left breathing heavily against a cold floor with a weakness that kept me there for a minute or two. I found myself wanting to be angry with him again but the anger only made me want him more. I peeled myself from the floor and stormed into the office to lock up. In my head I could just imagine him laughing now. Fuck him. In a way, I guess I just did.

  I spent the time between closing the shop and climbing into bed alone. Greyden had worked the fence during the day and then went directly to the bar afterwards. It was a good night to be alone. I ignored all of my chores and soaked in my claw foot bathtub until my fingers pruned. I asked myself one hundred questions while I listened to the bath bubbles crackle and pop. What was I going to do when he showed up for work tomorrow? Would things be awkward or would he be normal again? Did I just cheat on Greyden? That one made me laugh a little. I would never be able to explain it to him. Would I be able to keep behaving around him? Would Greyden notice a change in me now that I was burning for another man? The most important question of all; what would happen next? This relationship was already showing unpredictable yo-yo patterns and though it would scare most off; I found it quite appealing.