Them Holler Boys (A Southern Outlaw Series Book 1)

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Them Holler Boys (A Southern Outlaw Series Book 1) Page 9

by Girty Thompson


  “Oh my God,” JJ murmured. “Who found them?”

  “The motel owner. They didn’t turn the TV off and didn’t turn the keys in, so when he went to collect keys or money for their extra days’ stay, he found them dead,” Lynne replied.

  JJ could hear her sniffling on the other end of the phone.

  “It’s all my fault,” she cried into the phone, gasping through each of her sobs. “I sold it to them, JJ. I killed them.”

  JJ didn’t know what to reply. As much as he hated her lifestyle and what she did to people, he just wanted to hold her in his arms and comfort her and tell her it wasn’t her fault.

  “How many others have I killed that I didn’t personally know by selling them shit?” she sobbed. “I’m such a horrible person. I don’t deserve to…”

  “Hey, hey!” JJ spoke harshly. “You didn’t shove that needle in their arm, Lynne. They made that choice. Yes, it falls back on you and you feel the responsibility because you have a conscience. But, baby, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “I need… I need to go,” Lynne said abruptly, clearing her throat. “Thank you for taking my call.”

  “Wait,” JJ started.

  “Bye, JJ,” Lynne stated, hanging the phone up without letting him say another word.

  Chapter Seven

  Several months had gone by since that day when Lynne called JJ about Mason and Ellie overdosing in the motel on the drugs she had sold them. Lynne and JJ hardly looked at each other, let alone spoke to one another. She had put that wall up that JJ had worked so hard at chiseling away at and now, he didn’t even know how to get back topart II her to save her. Instead of playing Prince Charming, JJ went back to being the loner in study hall while Lynne laughed and guffawed with her holler boys. He spent most of his days ordering stuff to replace what Buddy had stolen out of his garage. His dad was never able to track it all down for him, and there were some expensive pieces of tools that he had collected over the years missing. So, most days, JJ sat in study hall and ordered tools and car parts.

  However, on the last day of school, after dismissal, things changed. It was custom that there was a rite of passage needed to be taken before Lynne and the boys officially called anyone a holler boy. Lynne decided after Jesse suggested to her that it was time to fully bring JJ into the holler world before he went off to college. If JJ and the rest of the gang got along, then there wouldn’t be any problems between anyone. It was the only thing that made sense to JJ as to why today she decided to change things up with him after finding the note she had left for him that night. He kept it tucked away in his wallet, and it would stay there for the rest of his life.

  Lynne was in the middle of the parking lot with the like she always had as they all loitered after the bell rang. They all had new mud beaters that were jacked up at least four inches and could hardly be road legal compared to the ones they had driven out to the mines last time. Lynne sat on the hood of her 1977 square body chevy that she and JJ had spent so many nights stargazing in the back of. She was wearing a pair of cut off daisy duke shorts, tank top, cowboy boots, and hat to match.

  Even though her daddy was the one that bought her that truck, she did all of the remodification work on it. She completely restored it from the ground up. It was just a rust bucket that was dragged into her front yard as payment to Charlie on a bean drop. She built the motor, lifted the springs, and even painted it the chameleon paint job it had. The truck was as beautiful as she was and a favorite reminder of the nights at the creek side with her. JJ could never stop himself from looking her way as he walked down the steps of the school. Lynne watched as JJ walked from the front doors of the school, glancing her way, and then made his way over to his 80’s model I-Roc. She bit her lip with a smirk on her face. Today was the day to toy with JJ.

  “How fast does that thing go?” Lynne hollered at JJ as he opened the driver’s door.

  “Fast enough,” JJ replied, a bit surprised, tossing his backpack in the backseat. “What about that? How fast does it go? You know what, on second thought, I already know that answer,” he laughed.

  Lynne grinned her crooked grin. “Fast enough,” Lynne replied, flitting her feet back and forth on the hood of the truck like they were a cat’s tail. “Want to race?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

  JJ laughed, walking over to Lynne’s truck. This was new. She had never challenged him to a race before. Ever.

  “Race? Race for what?” he asked, teasing.

  “Epic bragging rights,” she cackled.

  JJ laughed. “I already got me some bragging rights ‘round here. What else is on the table?” he asked.

  “How about we race for money?” she asked, twirling her hair.

  Everyone that stood around the vehicles grew quiet in their chatter as she struck up her racing deal with JJ. JJ could smell the wintergreen chewing snuff most of them had tucked inside of their jaw, spitting every so often into an empty water bottle. He never did understand people that smoked or chewed tobacco. All it did was give you bad breath and rotted your teeth out. However, he never pushed his disdain for the stuff on people that did either. Hell, one day, he may become frustrated enough to do either. He shouldn’t knock what he hadn’t experienced yet.

  “Nah, I got plenty of money,” JJ replied, about to walk back and get in his car. “I mean I have a job at the mines and I’m the spoiled brat and all. So, I got me some money. Is that all you can come up with?”

  “What about for titles then?” she asked, hopping down off the hood of her truck and walking over to where he stood.

  “Why do you want to race me for?” JJ asked.

  “Because I’m bored,” Lynne replied with a smirk. “You in?”

  “You’re willing to risk that nice little Chevy Nova that doesn’t even get to breathe around here shoved into a locker?” JJ asked.

  “Maybe, you in pretty boy?” she asked grinning like a loon.

  “Does it have to be this car, or can I bring any car that I own?” JJ asked. “Technically, this one is in my dad’s name. I don’t want to scratch up his stuff doing teenager shit.”

  “Bring a car you own and meet me down at Route 1 around 11 tonight,” Lynne replied with a smile. “Don’t be late.”

  “Oh, I don’t plan on it,” JJ replied with his own twisted grin.

  Everyone that had been standing around quietly all hopped in their trucks as Lynne climbed behind the wheel of hers. JJ knew exactly what vehicle she would be bringing. He would never take her car from her, but to see her face when she lost to him would make it worth it.

  “Oh, and this truck is a ten-second truck. I just don’t like to race her. She’s my baby,” she said as she barked her tires and sped from the parking lot. He knew too well how fast that truck was as many times as he had ridden shotgun in it.

  All of the guys followed her as JJ walked back over to his car and climbed into his front seat. He turned the ignition over on his I-Roc and peeled out of the parking lot. He climbed the winding roads of Spruce mountain to the holler. He made the right hand turn off the back country road onto the Sycamore Hollow Road and carefully crossed the train tracks. He cruised through the holler doing ten miles per hour as he crossed all of the bridges to get to their remote house set in the back of the holler. His dad had spent nearly one million dollars renovating a dirt floor house into a two-story log cabin house with a parking garage outback. It was idiotic, but it was also cozy as fuck. They had a nice little woodstove that they used to help take the load off of the furnace when the nights got really cold. JJ loved the smell of the smoldering wood.

  He pulled his car into the garage just in time to see his dad’s “servant” dust the white powder from his nose he had been snorting. JJ cracked his neck in irritation before stepping out of the car and slamming the door closed to the car.

  “How many times do we have to tell you, Buddy? Don’t do drugs in, near, around, or in any close vicinity to what we own,” JJ hissed. “And don’t ever fucking come in my garage agai
n.”

  “Sorry, Boss. Won’t happen again,” Buddy stuttered, flashing his nearly toothless grin.

  “You’re lucky my dad tells me what I can and can’t do because I would have already knocked what few teeth you have down your throat after you stole all of my shit for your filthy little habit. He brought you back against my protest to give you another chance. Just because he is fine with your lying, thieving, conniving ass around does not mean I am. Next time I catch you around my shit unsupervised, I won’t be nice about it. I will just knock you so hard, the white powder will fly off your face with my fist. Understood?” JJ demanded.

  “Yes, Sir,” Buddy replied, tripping and staggering as he tried to dip out of the garage as fast as he could.

  JJ pinched his eyebrows together and breathed in a few times deeply. He looked around the garage to see if anyone else was in there, but it was empty. He did a quick check of all his tools he had in there, but nothing seemed to be missing this time. He looked at his watch to see what time it was. Four o’clock. He had plenty of time before the race to get some training in. He didn’t have coal mining duty today, and normally anymore on the days he had off, since he and Lynne stopped hanging out, he would hit the punching bag and get some kickboxing in to stay fit and limber. He stripped his shirt off and tossed it on the hood of the I-Roc as he walked over to the punching bag he kept hung on the gantry crane. No one else used this garage, nor were they allowed in the garage. Everything in here he had bought with his own money after having it all stolen by Buddy a couple of months ago. He told his dad that he could come in here when he needed, but for the most part, the garage now belonged to him.

  JJ grabbed his punching gloves from the table in his garage. He cranked his music up on his radio system and then laid into the punching bag, throwing jabs and kicks at it like he had been taught by so many different fighting trainers. He knew Kung Fu, Karate, Ninjitsu, and plain old whoop your ass fighting. Sweat beaded down his muscled back as his quadriceps and biceps flexed and bowed under the strikes he dealt. The music turned down, and he pivoted to see who had touched his music while he was working out. Everyone knew to leave him the fuck alone when he was in his garage.

  “You seem frustrated today. What’s on your mind?” Paul asked as he maneuvered through the garage closer to him.

  “I found Buddy in here again snorting that shit up his nose again. I told him it would be a cold day in hell if I found him doing that shit near our house again,” JJ replied, removing the protective gloves from his hands.

  He tossed them down on the table beside the fridge he had plugged up near the gantry crane. He popped the door open and snagged a bottle of water from inside. He offered it to his dad, and he politely refused with a flick of his hand.

  “I have beer in here too. Or, if you prefer, I have some bourbon in the cabinet if that piece of a shit addict hasn’t gotten into my cabinets,” JJ spat, sitting down on the couch he had nestled against the wall.

  “No, thank you, son. But I appreciate the gesture,” Paul replied. “Buddy told me you threatened him, but he didn’t tell me why. That’s why I am here. But, you just explained the story. Is that the whole story?” he asked.

  JJ shook his head. “What do you mean is that all? I told him to get the fuck out of my garage before I knocked the powder off of his nose, and he ran out. I started working out. What are you implying?” JJ demanded, taking a drink of water from his bottle.

  “Well, his nose was bleeding, and when asked, he said you hit him. I came to see what was bothering you to hit the help,” Paul replied calmly.

  “Yea, his nose is bleeding because he keeps snorting whatever he can get his hands on up it. That mother fucker better be glad he isn’t in here, or I would make his nose bleed for lying about this all,” JJ grinted, cracking his neck in irritation.

  “Well, thank you for clarifying it all for me,” Paul replied as he walked toward the open garage door.

  “That’s all. That’s really the only reason you came in here? To see why, if I had, I busted his nose? No, hey son, how was school? How are your grades? How are you doing with work? How is the car fucking driving? Nothing?” JJ seethed as Paul stopped to listen. “It seems the only people you fucking care about really around here lately are the mother fuckers that steal my shit when they can get in here to buy their pills or their meth. You don’t give a fuck about me and haven’t for quite some time. But, thanks, Pops. I’m fine.”

  “One day, these people will be your people. Remember that when you treat them like shit,” Paul replied irritated.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Do you really think I am going to stay in this shit hole after you die? After I graduate? Fuck no! I am going back to NOLA, where I was born and raised. Fuck this place,” JJ shouted. “You said it yourself a few months back that you wanted me gone from here and to never come back.”

  “No matter where you run to,” Paul began, “this will always be your home in the end. This is where you were born, not in NOLA. I haven’t always been the man I am now. This is where I was raised. This was my upbringing. And in the end, you will always come back here because it’s in your blood!”

  Paul left the room, and JJ stood in silence before he switched his music back on, cranked it up, and laid into the punching bag for another hour. He didn’t know what his father meant by he was born here and not in NOLA. His mom had told him time and time again that he was born in NOLA. Now, his father was telling him that he was born here in this rundown God-forsaken shit town. What else was there about himself that he didn’t know?

  JJ stripped his clothes off in his bedroom and headed for the shower. He had a master bedroom just as his father did, so he didn’t have to share his bathroom with all of the pieces of shits that his dad brings in and out of the house. He turned the shower water on full blast and waited for the room to steam up before he stepped in. The hot water stung as it seared his skin with the high-pressure water system they had installed. He stood with his head under the showerhead and let the water run down his back as he braced himself against the shower wall. He was aggravated and not in the mood to talk to anyone for the rest of the night. However, he had made a deal with Lynne, and he wasn’t welching on his end. He ran the soap over his body and hair, rinsing it all off before he stepped out. He grabbed his towel and dried off where he stood before wrapping the towel around his hips.

  Upon entering his room, he walked to his closet to find something to wear tonight. He didn’t know how it was going to go before, during, and after the race, but he wanted to make a good impression on everyone that would be there. He didn’t want to look too rich, but he didn’t want to look trashy either. Honestly, it didn’t matter either way. They always had their opinions about him, and it was one reason they never hung out together. The only other time they had spent time together was the day Jesse announced at the mines that he was accepted into WVU.

  He grabbed a pair of acid-washed blue jeans he had bought at Aeropostale and a black Abercrombie and Fitch shirt that had a skull on it. He picked his favorite ballcap up from his dresser and tossed it on with the bill facing backward. He looked at his watch. It was almost seven. He still had three hours to kill before he was meeting up with Lynne.

  JJ made his way from upstairs down to the kitchen, where he searched through the refrigerator for something to eat. To be as wealthy and well off as they were, there was never any food in their fridge. It wasn’t even from where everyone else ate their food. His dad never went shopping and hardly ever had their housekeeper go shopping. His dad lived on fast food and freedom. He mostly ate at restaurants during business meetings or grabbed something on the go from McDonald’s, never thinking if JJ would want something as well. Most days, his dad was eating steak dinners when he was stuck eating ramen noodles for dinner. All of the going out to eat with his dad had ended the night that he helped Buddy out.

  JJ fished a hidden Hungryman TV dinner from the freezer and tossed it into the microwave to heat it up. He flipped the
TV on in the kitchen and surfed the channels until he came across a mechanics show he enjoyed watching. His tastes were much like most guys his age when it came to what he liked to watch on TV. Cars, women, and action movies. He occasionally watched horror, but his life had been filled with such real crime and horror that it didn’t interest him much to see it on TV. A few years ago, a girl that was tutoring him in school turned him onto fantasy and paranormally geared shows like vampires, werewolves, and even ghost hunter shows. He enjoyed those much more than demonic possession movies.

  His TV dinner dinged in the microwave, and he pulled it out by the corners so the steam wouldn’t catch him off guard. He carefully peeled the cellophane plastic off and added his butter, pepper, and salt to his mashed potatoes. He then let it sit for a few minutes to cool before he dove in and burned his tongue on the hot food.

  A tremor shook the ground as the mine alarm sounded. He ran to the front door of the house and threw it open to see a plume of smoke and fire shooting sky-high. There was no time to grab his car and high tail it over there. He snatched keys off of the keyring hanging at the doorway and ran out to the Gator sitting in the driveway. He thrust the key into the ignition and turned it over. The Side by Side roared to life, and he knocked it into gear, pressing the pedal to the floor as far as he could jam it. The tires squealed and spun on the dewy grass before catching and lurching out onto the holler’s road. A couple of guys waved JJ down to ride with him, and he slowed his speed while they jumped in without him even stopping the Gator. He threw the Gator into high gear and tore through fields and yards. Cutting through the creek would take half the time than driving the roads to the mines, so he cut the wheels for the trails he had grown so accustomed to while living here.

  The Gator bounced as they hit holes and dips that the boys had rutted out riding their four-wheelers and dirt bikes around. The alarm from the mine continued to blare, echoing through the holler like a nuclear fallout warning. As they topped the hill and popped out of the trees, JJ jammed the Side by Side’s brakes to the floorboard. The entire mine was on fire. It wasn't only an explosion and even though JJ wanted to panic, he knew he had to have his head in the moment to get this fire contained like mine protocols stated. JJ hopped out of the Gator with the rest of the boys as they scrambled to grab extinguishers to put out the fire. He ran to the firetruck tanker they keep on hand just for these purposes. It was one of the best ideas his dad had about the mine. He hopped up into the seat and pulled the visor down, letting the keys fall into his open palm. He pushed the visor back up as he shoved the key into the ignition. The truck roared to life as JJ pulled it out from the garage it rested in and drove it around the mine, spraying the fire down with a special foam designed to aid in gas fires.

 

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