8 Second Decision

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8 Second Decision Page 5

by H. J. Bellus


  “I’ve made a deal with Saint Johnson, and it’s legit.”

  I slam my fists down onto the table, losing my temper and forgetting about my granddad and Mom at the table in my presence. “You’ve made the deal with a fucking devil and expect your boys to clean it up since you’ve spent all of Granddaddy’s money. He worked his hands to the bone to give us this piece of paradise and you’ve pissed it away.”

  Maverik grabs me by the shoulder and forces me to sit down. “Cool it, Merek. We have no choice right now.”

  “And why don’t we have a choice?” I glare at my father and loathe the resemblance between the two of us. “How could you do this to your own father and sons? Fuck, Mom has stuck with you through all this shit.”

  “Merek.” My granddad’s voice stops me in my tracks. I’d never think about back talking or disrespecting. “Listen and do as you're told. I’m not happy either, but the day I have to put a “For Sale” sign up is the day you’ll bury me.”

  “Hire five good hands to work the horses. We’ll pay top dollar for their work. We’ll need them for the next two months.”

  “Got it. We will get it done.” Marvel stands to his feet, kisses our mom on the head, and heads for the door.

  Always the momma’s boy of the family with a heart of gold and not a wild hair on his head. Maverik rises but has other words for our father.

  “When this deal is over and Granddad has his ranch back, you’re leaving this place.”

  I watch as my mom tries to object but stops when she sees the fury cover her first born’s face. “You’re gone the day this ranch is out of debt and back up and running on what it was born on. No excuses. Do you hear me?”

  Maverik doesn’t fire up easily, but when he does no one dare fucks with him. I watch as my father nods in agreement not even putting up a fight. How horrible does life have to get to be a grown man cowering down to his son? Something doesn’t settle right with me, and I have a feeling Dad is in way more trouble than just a few losing bets at the track.

  “Let’s go, Merek.”

  Each of us stops by and gives our mother a hug. I grab my granddad’s arm and lead him out of the house.

  “Sorry, Granddad, but someone had to do it.” Maverik kicks up the dust as we walk Granddad across the dirt road to his house.

  “You’re right, Maverik. I’m proud of you boys and my heart just hurts for the pain—”

  “Stop, we’re here for you,” I say as I grip on tighter to his forearm. There’s one person on this planet I’ll never let down, and it’s him.

  “Merek brought home a chick last night,” Maverik blurts out.

  “What the fuck, Mav?”

  “Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood.” He chuckles and tucks his hat lower on his head.

  “I don’t see how that’s funny, Maverik. We all know he’s what you young ones call a man-whore.”

  We both erupt into laughter at his words.

  “Well, because of exactly that. He didn’t bang her. He simply tucked her in and then went and slept in the hay loft with a torn hamstring.”

  Maverik clearly finds this fact quite comical as his laughter seems to never end, and Granddad even joins in. I guess if in all this darkness they can find some comedy it’s all good.

  “Now let me go.” Granddad shoos my hand away. He never lets us walk him up to his house and refuses to be nursed in any fashion. The man is eighty-eight years old and still bucking hay and feeding his cattle.

  We watch him walk up the sidewalk to his house, and with each step he takes it’s a quaint reminder of the history this ranch holds for the family.

  “Think she’s up?”

  “Fuck.” I take my cowboy hat off and rub my head, trying to process the last few days. “I don’t know, but I do know I’m going to need a fucking bulletproof vest when she realizes where she is.”

  Maverik erupts into another fit of laughter.

  “I’m glad you get such a kick out of my life, asshole.” I settle down on a bale of straw outside my little cottage.

  “You’re the one who got involved with her.” Mav leans up against a post and crosses his arms over his chest. “But it must be serious since you broke off your fuck dates with Madison.”

  I use my boot to swirl around the dirt. “It’s not serious. Challis hates my guts.”

  “Didn’t look like it last night when she was mauling you.”

  “She was wasted and emotional. Told me it was her first rodeo since her dad passed.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I didn’t push for details, but can tell it’s a sore ass topic.”

  “Then why give up Madison? She’s a sure thing.”

  “Because I think I want more if Challis will open up to me, and I don’t need Madison in the middle of it.”

  Maverik lets out a long, low whistle. “Now that’s a pair I wouldn’t mind having in bed.”

  “Yeah, until they tear each other’s eyeballs out.” I even laugh at my own joke this time. A whinny catches my attention and I look up to see Challis’s horse pacing the circle corral. I unloaded him last night and left him in the corral.

  “Catch ya later, Mav, going to wake up Challis.”

  “I’ll call 9-1-1 if I hear you screaming for dear life.”

  I flip him the bird and stroll up to my front door, and for the first time I feel weird entering the tiny house. Silver Star Ranch has two main houses and then a dozen small one-room homes for workers, and, well, I guess the Slatter brothers.

  The house is still dead quiet and I can only assume Challis is still out. The girl is going to be hurting. Besides finishing her winning bottle of whiskey, she helped Maverik polish off a bottle of Jack, and then nursed a beer before she passed out on me and ended up dumping her beer down the legs of my jeans.

  Yeah, she’s going to be hurting and fucking pissed about waking up in my bed. I open the door and forget the loud creak it makes and it seems even louder in the quiet house. Challis stirs and I give her a second to wake up.

  “Challis.”

  The sheets pool around the bed as she begins to wake up. Finally, she sits up in bed and not worried a bit that her bare breasts are exposed. The shit is not only going to hit the fan but blow clear through the fucking roof.

  “Um, Challis.” I point to my nipples.

  She looks down and then sleepily wipes away her long brown hair from her face. Her sleep-induced face is beyond sexy with wrinkle lines imprinted in her skin. I’m sure from sleeping in one position.

  “What, you’ve never seen tits before, Champ?”

  A little humor is always a good sign, but I stay propped up in the doorjamb, staying clear from the minefield known as Challis Jones.

  “Motherfucker,” she mumbles as she looks under the sheets. “Did we? Did you, I mean?”

  “No, but you actually begged me to.”

  “Ha, funny, asshole. But you promise we didn’t do anything?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say anything, but we didn’t have sex.”

  “Fuck.” She bounds from the bed and stumbles a bit in the tangled sheets but regains her composure. “Teebaby, my truck and trailer.”

  I point to the window. “It’s all out there. Maverik and I took care of you.”

  “But how? He was getting as tanked as me.”

  “We called Marvel and he brought down some employees to get us all home.

  She rolls her eyes. “Great, I’m glad you have employees.”

  “The ranch does.”

  “Where are my clothes? I need to go find my horse.”

  “Look.” I point and walk closer to her. I snag a corner of the striped sheet and pull her into me and walk closer to the window. “He’s out there. I fed him the rations you had in your tack pen this morning.”

  Her hand goes to the window with her palm pressed flat as if she’s trying to pet him, and then she slowly drags it down the window. “I’m sorry about last night. I had no clue it would bring out those emotions in me.”

>   “I quite enjoyed myself.”

  With her back to me, she keeps her gaze on her horse.

  “I remember kissing, but that’s about it. What else did we do?”

  I dip my head quickly and place a light kiss on her sweet skin atop her shoulder.

  “Well, you passed out when I was trying to explain how hurt I was, and then dumped the beer you were holding all over my jeans and yours.”

  “Clearly you talk slow and I got bored, next.”

  “You stripped in your truck while I was trying to seat belt you and then begged for me to take you.”

  “That was a bit embarrassing.”

  “Don’t worry, I covered you up. Marvel didn’t see a thing.”

  I feel her cringe as I speak but refuse to lie about anything from last night.

  “Once we got here, you begged me a time or two to take you and then showed me how to do a somersault, and once I got you in bed you passed out again.”

  “How was my somersault?”

  “I’d give you an eight, but would have to see you do it again in just panties to be judged accurately.”

  “Oh my hell. I’m such an idiot.”

  “Oh, and you shit your pants too.”

  “What?” She whirls around in my arms with panic covering her face.

  “Gotcha, Challis.”

  My lips find hers and I place a gentle kiss on them. It’s not like last night, and I’m afraid if we ever experience that passion again I won’t be able to stop once started.

  “What are we doing?” she asks slightly pulling, but then going back in for another quick kiss.

  “Kissing.”

  This time she slaps my chest and steps back. “No, this and that and last night.”

  “Well, last night the most action I got was a cold beer covering my thigh and a part of my pecker. So, I’d say it was a friend helping another friend in need.”

  “I agree.” She slowly nods her head up and down. “But this?”

  “This can be whatever you want it to be, Challis.”

  “What about the blonde twat that likes to be all up in your grill?”

  “Did you just go all gangsta on me?”

  “No, funny business, Merek. Answer me now.”

  “I told her I didn’t want to see her anymore. We weren’t in a relationship just fuck—”

  “Buddies.” Challis finishes the sentences for me.

  An awkward silence fills the room and I stretch out my hand to pull Challis into me, but she steps away avoiding eye contact and shakes her head.

  “Talk to me,” I plead.

  I can visibly see her iron curtain rise up again, shielding off all her emotions and the Challis I met last night.

  “I can’t, Merek.”

  “You can’t what?” I crane my neck toward her.

  “I can’t do this thing between us?”

  “Why?” The tone of my voice is laced with anger.

  “I can’t.”

  “Fine, leave, Challis.” I throw my hands up in the air and let the fury boil over. “I’m the cocky whore cowboy and it’s something you don’t want to waste time on.”

  “No, Merek.” Tears begin to roll down her flushed cheeks.

  I’m not sure if my anger is steaming from the family meeting or Challis turning away from me.

  “I would’ve never been good enough for your ass anyway.”

  I stomp from the room, not wasting another fucking breath on the most confusing woman I’ve ever met in my life. I slam the front door behind me, load up my cow dog, and roar out of the driveway. Rocks spray from underneath my tires, peppering the siding of my house and I couldn’t fucking care less.

  Dirt Road Anthem streams through my speakers as I race up the mountainside.

  Chapter 6

  Challis

  The house rumbles between the slamming door and gravel spraying it. I flop back down on the bed and inhale Merek’s scent and let even more tears fall onto his sheets. The pain on his face killed me, and it’s something I’m not proud of.

  Merek Slatter is something I want after last night, but I also have the debt of thirty-two thousand weighing down on my shoulders. I stand, wiping away all the tears and remind myself there’s no time for pity parties in life. I never threw one when I left college and I sure as hell won’t have one now.

  I slide into my jeans and smell the stench of beer. My bra is missing, which I can only conclude that the stripping stories were very real. I spot a white t-shirt draping over a drawer of Merek’s dresser and snag it. Mentally, I force myself to walk through his house and not pick up on any details that may make me want Merek even more. I think about leaving him a note but don’t¸ since it will probably only make my fuck up even worse.

  My truck is parked out front still hooked to my trailer and I see Teebaby proudly trotting around the pen whinnying to the nearby horses. I shake my head at his cockiness and hope he never loses his pride.

  “Sweet, baby boy,” I chime as I get closer.

  “You think he likes being called that?”

  I turn to see Maverik, who is knee deep in mucking out a stall. I only shrug back at him, immediately feeling embarrassed by all my actions last night.

  “He’s a freaking badass. I’m sure he doesn’t appreciate being called baby boy.”

  I open the latch on the pen and snag the halter on Teebaby. “Ha. Well, thanks, Maverik, he’s all I got.”

  “See you pissed off my brother.”

  I shrug again. “Yeah, I did do that really good, I might add.”

  “He’d kill me if I told you this, but I’ve never seen him so concerned over one girl. He’s more of the use ‘em type. He even broke it off with Madison. No one has ever threatened Madison’s throne.”

  I lead my horse out of the corral and stop before Maverik. “I just can’t do this right now.”

  “I never thought I’d say this to a girl about Merek, but your loss, Challis. He’s a damn good guy under all of his layers.”

  Maverik’s words hit me hard. It’s something Merek showed me last night.

  “I see that, Maverik, but I have problems of my own I need to take care of. Not all of our daddy’s set us up.” I wave around with my free hand.

  “You really think you know everything, don’t you?”

  I open the back of the trailer, hook Teebaby’s lead strap onto his halter, and tie him up in his stall. Double-checking, I latch all the latches and safety pins, then walk back over to Maverik.

  “All I know is I’m a cowgirl who puts one boot on at a time in the morning.”

  ***

  It’s been two sleepless nights since the morning from hell. Tori has been worried and has picked up on me not sleeping. The only good news coming from it is the money. Tori handed over the calf check, and it was the hardest pill to swallow, but I accepted it. The rodeo check came in the mail and was quite hefty, plus I won a local jackpot barrel race last night.

  Between that money and the wages and tips from the bar, I’m only looking at eighteen thousand dollars that I need. Which seems doable compared to thirty, but in the next minute it’s a sinking ship and it’s pulling my heart down.

  The normal crowd fills the bar and they have the jukebox pumping out old country tunes from Johnny Cash to Merle Haggard. The music helps my shift fly by as does the growing crowd. My heart sinks when I spot Marvel and Maverik walk in and take a seat in a corner.

  Without hesitation, I waltz over and take their orders as if I’ve never met them. They don’t seem too interested in me and it actually comforts my nerves. I prep their drinks and round the bar to head back to their table, and that’s when I see Merek enter.

  Just the mere vision of him causes me to freeze and my hands to tremble. I set down the two drinks, then prop myself up using the sturdy oak bar. I watch each of his movements as he settles in at the table with his two brothers. All three of them resemble each other, but Merek definitely has the Hollywood factor on his side with his designer cowboy jeans an
d gold buckle.

  He relaxes—long, lean legs in front of him—and crosses his arms. The carefree jokester isn’t present tonight. Instead it’s more like a pissed off cowboy arrived in its place. His jaw stays clenched, and he doesn’t even attempt to take a quick view of the bar. I fucked up and hurt him. Sorry has never been my favorite word in the English vocabulary, but my daddy taught me how to use it well.

  I make my way back behind the bar and snag the longneck I saw him drinking the other night at the rodeo and attach a simple sticky note to the bottom of it.

  Champ,

  I’m sorry. I was a bitch.

  Challis

  I snag a tray and place all three drinks on it and make my way over to the Slatter brothers’ table. My stomach balls up with nerves as I get closer, but I fight through them and know it’s the right thing to do.

  “Marvel, here’s your drink.” I hand him his, set Maverik’s down in front of him, and then wait for Merek to look up at me, but he never does, so I set his down in front of him.

  I swallow my pride and put on my game face and act as if nothing is bothering me. “Let me know if you need anything else, boys.”

  Turning around, anger swells inside of me, and my well-known temper threatens to boil over. Everything inside of me wanted to grab Merek by the fucking ear and force him to look up at me. Yes, I was a bitch and hurt his feelings, but that doesn’t give him the right to use the asshole card on me. I busy myself behind the bar washing empty glasses and stocking the ice.

  The bar picks up after nine with all sorts of people from different walks of life. The Slatters have remained at the corner table deep in conversation. Even the town tramps haven’t dared approach them. I’m the only one who has visited their table, and that’s only to give them new drinks. Maverik has waved me over a couple of times and I don’t even ask. I just line up a tray of their beverages and deliver them. Merek’s never asked for another beer, but I keep serving him.

  I noticed Madison waltzed in about an hour ago and only nodded to Merek and joined another crowd. It instantly makes me feel like shit after leading him on the other night, him breaking off their, whatever they had, and then me running from him. My fingers strum the dark oak of the bar as I think about how in the hell I’m going to come up with eighteen thousand in the next month.

 

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