The gleam in her eyes died a bit, and she set her cup down on the table after downing it in a gulp. She stood from her seat and walked over to where he stood.
“I might have something to help with that,” she purred.
“I’m good. The only poison I have ever had was that one line of white girl I snorted from the hood of Mike’s car. I don’t want my skin to itch or my veins to burn, thank you,” he replied firmly. “Goodnight.”
He brushed past her and jumped in the bed, balling a pillow up under him and lying on it. Lynne stood in the spot she was in briefly before walking to the door and leaving without a word as she closed the door behind her.
“I won’t ever be your holler boy,” JJ mumbled as he fell off to sleep.
Chapter Eleven
Lynne was woken up to a pounding on her door as she glanced at the clock on her nightstand. It was nine o’clock in the morning. She groaned as she raised up from the bed. She hardly ever drank, and she had way too much to drink last night. She rubbed her eyes and was thankful that the curtains were closed so she wouldn’t be blinded by the morning sun. She smoothed her hair down and threw her feet over the side of the bed as the pounding on her door came again.
“I’m comin’!” she yelled, unlatching the safety metal and opening the door.
JJ stood there, holding a coffee for her.
“Rise and shine!” he chirped as he walked in the door. “Get your boots on. Let’s go. We are already behind schedule. I want to see the world’s largest yarn ball before nightfall,” he urged.
“Quit talkin’ so loud,” Lynne mumbled as she took the cup of coffee from him and trudged back to her bed.
She plopped down, trying to get her brain to move from sleep in to at least a halfway decent functioning part of her body. Her head began to throb as the sunlight poured through her open door as JJ stood on the threshold, waiting for her to get up and move.
“Can I at least brush my teeth?” she snapped.
He raised his hands in defense. “My bad. Meet me in the car in twenty then.”
He closed her door, and she raised from her bed, setting her coffee down on the table in her room. She walked to the bathroom and quickly did her morning routine of using the bathroom, brushing her teeth, and making sure her hair didn’t look like a rat slept in it all night. She used a washcloth and wiped her face to feel a bit refreshed after sweating out all of that liquor she had last night. She walked back to the table and sat down where her boots laid strewn underneath it. She grabbed them and put them on one at a time, zipping the sides up and pulling her pant legs down to cover them. She grabbed her coffee and took a drink. It was surprising that after all of these years, JJ still remembered how she liked her coffee. She smiled before standing and walking out of the room.
She looked over the railing and saw JJ waiting for her at his car. She rolled her eyes. How he could drink like a fish and be this active the next morning so early could only mean that he was possessed by a demon. No one was that perky the next morning after drinking the night before. She made her way down the steps of the motel and out into the parking lot where his car set.
“Morning, sunshine,” he cooed. “Are we still grumpy?”
“Ha,” she garbled sarcastically. “I’m not a morning person, especially after drinking the night before.”
“Aren’t we getting old,” JJ chuckled as he opened his door and climbed in.
Lynne did the same and climbed into the car, fastening her seat belt. She shaded her eyes under the sun and groaned. Before she could say another word, JJ handed over a pair of sunglasses for her to put on. She smiled her appreciation before sticking them on. JJ placed his on too and pulled out of the parking lot and made his way back to the interstate.
“The world’s largest ball of yarn?” Lynne asked.
JJ cackled. “That’s the only thing you heard, isn’t it?” he asked.
She crinkled her nose, mocking his laugh.
“It’s in Kansas. It’s going to take us like three hours or a little more to reach Denver. That gets us in the middle of Colorado by one for lunch stop. Kansas is roughly five to six hours from Denver. I want to make it to Kansas or further before nightfall, which means we need to make up for grumpy cat’s bathroom time brushing her teeth,” he laughed.
“You know, not all of us that live in the holler want to have fucked up teeth,” she replied defensively.
“Hey, I don’t blame you for wanting to keep your pearly white smile,” JJ replied. “The best way to keep it is by not doing the drugs there.”
“I don’t do drugs,” Lynne seethed.
“Then, why were you trying to get me to take some last night?” JJ asked, glancing over at her. “You think I do that shit, Lynne? I’m not fucking stupid. I’m not ruining my life.”
Lynne was quiet.
“So, are you on them too?” JJ asked. “I won’t ask again, and you better not lie.”
“Or what? You’ll beat my ass?” Lynne asked snidely.
“Yes, I will beat your ass,” JJ replied.
“I’m not doing drugs,” Lynne mumbled angrily. “I don’t really remember last night. I drank a couple of those bottles while you were outside.”
“That’s all I wanted to know. But know this, the next time you ask me if I want some fucking meth, I’ma knock the dogshit out of you. Got it?” JJ stated firmly.
“Yea,” Lynne mumbled incoherently.
“What was that?” JJ prodded.
“Yes!” Lynne shouted.
“Yes, what?” JJ pushed.
“What?” Lynne asked, confused.
“Yes, what? Yes…” JJ waited.
“Yes, sir,” Lynne replied, rolling her eyes.
“Good girl,” JJ cooed.
“Don’t call me that. I’m not your pet,” Lynne retorted.
“Fine. Good bitch,” JJ remarked heatedly. “That better? That what you’re used to? You want me to degrade you some more? Is that what you like?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Lynne shouted. “Bullshit is all that ever comes out your mouth. You don’t own me, so you don’t get to call me shit.”
“I don’t own you,” JJ reaffirmed. “You’re right. I don’t own you. I would never own you. I would never want to own you.”
“You’re such a dick,” Lynne huffed.
“No, you don’t get it. That’s what your fucking twisted mind tells you about all men. They own you. Well, Princess, no one will ever own you because you won’t let them, and you shouldn’t let them. You’re not property. The only thing that should ever be owned of you is your heart and soul. No man should ever get the right or earn the right to say he owns you,” JJ hissed. “Besides, no one could ever tie you down long enough for them to think they own you. You won’t and don’t stay.”
Lynne didn’t reply back, and the rest of the ride went back in silence until JJ flipped the radio on and found the next country station he could summon on the FM radio. Hank Williams Jr blared across the speakers with “A Country Boy Can Survive.” JJ stopped messing with the dial on the radio and sat back in his seat and drove listening to the honky-tonk bluesy song. They didn’t make country music like this anymore. It spoke the truth about country life compared to city life living. The country living part had been taken out of country music, and what listeners were left with was the pop music Taylor Swift type songs. There were a few modern country singers he liked to listen to that reminded him of the classics like George Jones, Conway Twitty, and the even more modern ones from the 90s like Tim McGraw, Alan Jackson, Garth Brooks, and so on and so forth. But, mostly, those who sing country now didn’t have the soul like the legacies prior to them.
“So, this is why you wanted to drag me across the United States? To listen to ole honky-tonk Bocephus songs?” Lynne spat venomously.
“You run a honky-tonk bar, Lynne!” JJ defended. “You should love Bocephus songs. It’s the whole point of owning a honky-tonk bar. To play the honky-tonk music because you don’t hear it anym
ore.”
“I play more modern music,” Lynne deflected.
“Oh, let me guess. You play Red Solo Cup on repeat while everyone plays beer pong off the pool tables,” JJ jeered.
“Ha! I play good music. George Strait and Johnny Cash float over the speakers,” Lynne replied indignantly. “Jason Aldean.”
“Jason Aldean sings like the classics. I like Jason Aldean. But some of these newer generation country singers ain’t got no soul in their music. Like with Hank, he told you how it was to be raised in the country. The life you lived. You grew your own farm; you raised your own cattle; you made your own booze. He won’t like these others that throw whatever onto a disc to make a soundtrack of their lives.”
The conversation fell flat between them as they just sat and listened to the music on the radio. It was a while before a song that piqued Lynne’s interest came across the speakers. She began to tap her foot and smack her leg as the beat played Redneck Woman by Gretchen Wilson.
“I’m a redneck woman,” Lynne sang as the song continued.
JJ groaned. “Gretchen Wilson? Really? Well, I mean, you are a chick. That has to be the appeal. She’s like the torch-carrying yodeler for southern women with that song. But, honestly?? It’s talking about being barefoot and pregnant, and quite literally, I might add.”
“Don’t knock my music taste. There are hardly any women singers in the country industry because of assholes like you with your opinions,” Lynne defended.
“No, it has nothing to do with that and everything to do with talent. Not many women can sing about the hardships of plowing a field when they were raised baking apple pies and frying chicken on the inside of the house,” JJ retorted.
“We’re just going to have to agree to disagree. You just shot down every single female country singer out there with that statement,” Lynne hissed.
“I can’t help I prefer the baritones of a male country singer to the screeching voices of the women ones,” JJ proclaimed.
The next one hundred miles went by without a word spoken or sang by either of them when they hit slowed traffic.
“I have to pee,” Lynne proclaimed. “Can we get off at the next exit, please? I could use something to drink too, and maybe eat.”
“There’s a bottle in the backseat you can use to pee in,” JJ teased as he got over into the exit lane.
They pulled into a gas station and climbed out of the car. JJ topped the gas tank off and joined Lynne inside to grab some snack food and drinks. He watched as she picked up some powdered donuts and beef jerky.
“God, al’mighty. If that ain't holler snack food, I don’t know what is. You getting a Mountain Dew too?” he asked, chuckling.
Lynne rolled her eyes, walked over to the drinks fridge, and pulled it open. She slyly glanced behind herself, watching JJ watch her as she grabbed a Mountain Dew and then shut the door as he let out a snort of laughter. JJ grabbed a bag of chips and a couple of bottles of water and walked to the checkout line. When they got to the front, Lynne put her things down on the counter alongside JJ's food and drink.
“Where is your restroom?” she asked the clerk at the counter while quickly checking her phone.
He picked a key up and handed it to her. “Outside behind the store.”
Lynne opened her hand as he dropped it into her palm and walked outside and around the store as JJ stayed inside and paid for their stuff. She put the key in the door and pushed it open with her foot. The inside of the bathroom was disgusting, just as she suspected. It didn’t even look like they had cleaned it in the past week. There was blood all over the sink, on the busted mirror, and beside the toilet. It looked like a hooker got her shit jacked either by her pimp or by her John. Lynne used the key on the men’s door, and surprisingly, it worked for either door. She pushed that door open with her foot and found the men’s room to be more tolerable than the women’s room. She quickly did her business and popped out from the bathroom, running into JJ.
“We need to go,” JJ said firmly.
“Alright, sorry it took so long. The women’s bathroom is… well, I used the men’s, so that should tell you,” Lynne blabbered. “Let me take the key inside.”
“Leave it,” JJ said sternly.
It was then that the smell hit Lynne, and she gagged as she walked. JJ put his arm around her and led her to the car but not before she glanced over her shoulder and saw the hand hanging from the dumpster. She must have been in her own little world trying to go use the bathroom for not smelling that right away.
“Don’t reach for your phone. Don’t make any sudden movements. Just get in the car,” JJ ordered as he opened her car door for her.
She did as instructed and didn’t even latch her safety belt across her lap. She glanced inside the store to see the clerk watching them intently inside.
“Don’t look inside,” JJ ordered. “Stare straight ahead and ignore the store entirely.”
She quietly averted her eyes from the clerk and looked straight ahead as they pulled off.
“He’s not the real clerk, is he?” she asked quietly.
“Nope,” JJ replied, keeping an eye on his rearview mirror. “There was blood behind the counter, and I don’t know if he saw that I noticed it or not.”
“From the looks of the bathrooms, I’d say the real clerk was the woman whose hand was sticking out of the dumpster,” Lynne stated, keeping her eyes straight ahead.
“Probably so. Man or woman, I couldn’t tell by the hand.” JJ kept eyeing his rearview mirror as he hit the accelerator. “Reach into the glovebox and pull out my gun,” he instructed.
Lynne did as she was told and flipped the glove box door down. She reached in and pulled out a .45 mm Smith & Wesson pistol that was custom designed with a herringbone inlay on the handle. She grabbed the clip that laid beside the gun, put it in the magazine clip slot, clicking it into place, and then cocked it for JJ, handing it over to him. JJ placed the gun between his legs right at his crotch for a quick grab.
“Is he following us?” Lynne asked, turning around to check.
“Don’t look. Don’t draw attention. Keep your eyes forward. Yes, I do believe he is following us,” JJ replied.
“Well, there’s not much he can do during the daytime,” she offered.
“Exactly, but that don’t mean he won’t follow us until nightfall,” JJ refuted. “Will those donuts and beef jerky hold you over until after we hit Kansas?”
“I think so, but it’s so hot out, and all I grabbed was a bottle of Mountain Dew,” Lynne replied.
“I grabbed some extra water when you skipped off to the bathroom,” JJ replied.
“What about bathroom stops?” Lynne asked.
“During the day only. Once it hits nightfall, we are driving until we find a secure location to spend the night,” JJ replied. “And I will be going with you.”
“You are not coming into the bathroom with me while I… pee,” Lynne refused.
“I won’t come into the stall, but you’re damn right I am checking it out and standing guard outside before I let you go in ‘ere alone. Are you insane?” he asked.
“Fine!” she huffed.
Lynne grabbed the bag from the floorboard at her feet that had her snack food in it with her bottle of mountain dew. She popped the bag of donuts open and began to cram one into her mouth. She looked over at JJ that watched her with a “really” look stretched across his face.
“What?” she mumbled through her mouthful of donut. “Want one?”
“Do you know how many carbs them things pack?” he replied. “Just hand me my bag of Munchos.”
Lynne swallowed her chewed up donut, fished around in the bag, and pulled out the red bag of potato chips.
“I remember you eating these all the time in study hall,” Lynne said as she handed them over to him.
“These things are life,” he breathed as he opened the bag and shoved a chip into his mouth.
“Uh-huh. I’m sure,” Lynne replied as she pried her beef
jerky bag open and popped a piece in her mouth to suck and chew on.
“Can you put me a bottle of water in my cup holder, please?” JJ requested as he fished another chip from his bag of chips.
“Yes, master,” she replied sarcastically.
“Bitch,” he murmured as she smiled, plopping his water down in the cup holder beside him.
She grabbed her Mountain Dew from the bag and set it down beside his water in her cup holder. She finished chewing up the piece of jerky in her mouth and opened her drink to take a gulp as JJ pushed some buttons on his dash radio. It brought up a phone looking thing, and he hit a button that made the speakers sound like a phone ringing.
“What’s that?” she asked, staring weirdly at the radio.
“It’s a Bluetooth radio that hooks your calls into it. Crawl out from the mine shaft every now and then, Lynne. You’re a fucking hermit,” JJ teased.
“Yellow,” the voice answered.
“Hey, Tony. I got a problem,” JJ stated.
“You got her pregnant. I knew it. I win the pool,” Tony joked.
Lynne glared at JJ.
“No, that’s not it, and she can hear you, Jackass,” JJ replied, irritated.
“Sorry, Boss,” Tony replied. “Sorry, little lady,” he shouted to Lynne.
“We have a tail,” JJ informed. “There was some psychotic killer at a gas station like in those movies you watch. Killed the clerk. He’s following us in a white, early 90’s Ford pickup. I don’t know the model. It has rust spots all over it, and the passenger door is caved in as well as the hood. I need someone out here ASAP to deal with him.”
“Where you at, boss?” Tony asked seriously.
“We are in between Glenwood Springs and Gray’s Peak heading into Denver,” JJ replied.
“Mile marker?” Tony asked.
“Um,” JJ glanced to the side of I-70 to see exactly where they were. “Mile marker 140, Gypsum. I’m in my Bentley. Look for me, and you will find him.”
“What’s the guy look like?” Tony asked.
“Like a fucking bum,” JJ replied. “I couldn’t tell if he was white, black, or even Mexican. He looked nasty.”
Them Holler Boys (A Southern Outlaw Series Book 1) Page 14