Protecting Her Heart

by Chance Carter

  Our savings were adding up slowly but surely and, even though we were still living in a motel, we were happy. Fuck, I'd never been so happy. The only thing that could've made it better was if I got to share this experience with my mom and sister too, but at least I could still talk to Sadie whenever I wanted to.

  My phone interrupted my reverie, blaring out the ringtone I used especially for Neil. Given the hour and the fact that it was Friday, I got a bad feeling in my stomach.

  "Hey," I answered.

  "Hey Jack," Neil said with a sigh. "Can you come down to the site? There's been more vandalism."

  I sat up straight, frowning. "Are you shitting me? Is that normal?"

  Neil let out a caustic laugh. "I've been working this area for the last twenty odd years, and I've never had a site vandalized more than once, and never this destructively. So it goes though, I'm afraid. So can you get down here?"

  "Yeah." I rubbed my eyes and checked the time. Melissa wasn't due home for another four hours or so, and I had nothing better to do.

  "Melissa's got the car. Can you come get me?"

  Neil picked me up in his truck a little while later, looking just as grim as I felt.

  "Sorry to call you out on a Friday night," he said when I got in the cab. "The other guys have all started drinking already, and I can't just leave it. The customer would have a shit fit if they came down this weekend and saw the state of the place."

  "What'd they do?"

  He stared straight ahead at the road, though I saw his jaw tick. "You'll see."

  We drove in silence the rest of the way. When he pulled into the driveway of the most recent house we'd been working on I understood why he might've found it awkward to tell me.

  OUTSIDER TRASH was spray-painted across the garage door in bright red paint. The door had been kicked in several places too, dented probably beyond repair. I swore under my breath and walked up to get a closer look.

  "Is this everything?" I asked.

  Neil stepped up beside me, shaking his head. "This is the worst of it, but they fuckin' TP'd some of the other houses again."

  We got to work painting over the garage door and cleaning up all the garbage. We were both tired from a long day of work, so it was a slow process, but eventually we got it back to almost the way it was before. Neil was going to have another look at the garage door on Monday and see if we needed to get it replaced, but at least we covered up the hateful message.

  Outsider trash...

  I wondered why Neil hadn't mentioned yet that the message was obviously directed at me. Maybe it hadn't crossed his mind. It was the first thing that crossed my mind though, as well as a list of potential suspects. Not that I needed a list to know that whoever committed the act was either Donnie or somebody doing Donnie's work for him. They must have been behind the last incident, too. It wasn't like I could prove that, though, unless I somehow got him to implicate himself. That was the most frustrating aspect of the whole thing.

  A couple hours later, I hopped back into Neil's truck for the ride home. He'd been suspiciously silent while we cleaned, and the air in the cab was tense. I chalked it up to the stress of the night, but Neil soon proved me wrong.

  "It's unfortunate," Neil said. "Really, really unfortunate." He sighed and glanced over at me with a solemn expression. "I'm sorry, Jack, but I gotta let you go. I'll pay you for tonight's work of course, but I can't keep you around any longer."

  I already knew why.

  "Because I'm the target of the vandalism?"

  He grunted in acknowledgment. "Yup. I know it ain't your fault, but I can't afford to have my job site continually vandalized. You've been a great worker, and I think you've got a real future ahead of you in carpentry if you apply yourself."

  I stared out the window, grinding my molars as I struggled to keep my heart rate calm and steady. I wanted to go out and beat the living daylights out of something. No, not something. Someone. And someone in particular.

  "You know it was Donnie, right?" I asked.

  Neil shrugged. "I don't know nothing for certain. I'd say it's a good possibility though, since that boy certainly has it out for you."

  He pulled up in front of the motel with an apologetic look.

  I didn't feel much like reassuring him that all would be well since I was fucking furious, but I managed a quick, "It's okay. I understand. I don't blame you."

  And I didn't blame him. Letting me go was the smartest choice for Neil's business, and I couldn't fault him for that. Donnie, on the other hand, I blamed the fuck out of him. The problem was there wasn't much I could do to retaliate if anything. Melissa wanted me to stay away from Donnie, both because she didn't trust him not to take things too far and because she didn't want to lose her job, and I intended to respect that wish. I just wished myself that Donnie wouldn't make it so hard to not beat his face in.

  "You're gonna do great, Jack," Neil said. "Put me down as a reference, and I'll make sure to talk you up to high heavens."

  "Thanks." I forced a smile. "For everything. I've learned a lot from you, and I appreciate you taking a chance on me."

  He tipped his head in reply, and I got out of the truck, storming toward the door of the room without looking back. The moment I heard Neil pull back onto the street, another idea took me. I needed to see Melissa. I could run over to the Alibi and grab a couple of drinks and something to eat, and maybe that would be enough to keep me from tearing my hair out in frustration. I wouldn't tell her about getting fired just yet, but I didn't know if I could handle another minute without seeing her pretty, smiling face.

  The bar was unusually crowded, though I managed to get a table in the far back corner. It wobbled on one of its legs but that didn't bother me, and soon I had an ice-cold beer in front of me and a pretty little brunette to go with it.

  "I didn't expect to see you tonight," said Melissa, leaning over to press a chaste kiss on my lips. "I'm glad you came in."

  "Just wanted to see you."

  Her eyes lit up. I would never get over seeing her smile.

  "Anything else I can get you? You look..." She looked me up and down. "You look a bit dirty, babe. What've you gotten up to tonight?"

  I probably should have taken a shower before I came down here, but the thought hadn't even occurred to me.

  "More vandalism at the job site. And it was hungry work. Can you put me down for a double cheeseburger and fries?"

  "I'll even throw on an extra pickle or two for you, my hard working man." She tossed me another smile over her shoulder as she strutted off, hips swaying deliciously. Her ass was so fucking biteable. Even if I was frustrated as fuck, I still had my girl.

  Now that I was sitting down, it was time to think about what I was going to do next. I wanted to have a backup plan when I told Melissa what happened because I didn't want her to worry. I could tell how much getting out of Cannon meant to her, and without work, I was going to be a drain on our savings rather than a contributor.

  I didn't care all that much about getting out of Cannon. I wanted to leave this shithole, don't get me wrong, but I didn't have a lifetime of baggage associated with it. I wanted to find somewhere I could happily call a home but I could wait for that as long as I had her. But somewhere along the line, her dreams had become mine, and I couldn't stand to be the one who threw a wrench into those plans.

  I went out for a smoke after finishing my burger and beer. The nicotine entered my system like a soothing balm, almost as soothing as that first look at Melissa tonight had been.

  Briiing.

  I dug my phone out of my pocket, half wondering if maybe Neil had changed his mind. Roddy's name came over the screen instead, and I rolled my eyes but answered.

  "Hello?"

  "Hey, big guy. How's life treating you?"

  "What do you want, Roddy?"

  "I just thought I'd call and check in, see how my favorite fighter is doing. I've got an offer that I know you're not going to be able to pass up," he said.

  The
smoke curled in front of my eyes, and I blew on it. "You've got two minutes. Go ahead."

  I should've told him to fuck off, just like I had the last time we spoke. I already told him I was done with fighting, so who the fuck did he think he was calling me with another fight? Unfortunately, he caught me in a tight spot. I didn't want to think about how Melissa would react if I took this offer of a fight, so I chose not to think about it and just listened.

  "Alright, so I've got this guy, real nasty piece of work. He's been in jail a few times, and it's undecided whether he's killed a guy or not. Nobody else wants to fight him. I don't know if you can beat him, but you don't have to. Four grand for the fight, win or lose."

  Four grand just to tousle with this guy for a few minutes? That was a lot of money. Sure, he could be the scariest fucker out there, and I could get the ever-living shit beat of me, but at the end of the day, I'd walk out of there with enough cash to finally get Mel and me out of this dump of a town.

  "I'll think about it," I said after a pause.

  “Yeah, of course man, of course. Uh, only thing is I need to know pretty qui—“

  “I said I’ll think about it, Roddy. Don’t push your luck.”

  I hung up and let my head fall back against the brick.

  Chapter 25

  Melissa

  Because the of the high school's big win, the whole town was out and ready to party, which meant the Alibi's atmosphere was charged like an electric eel. It was just another one of the things I hated about small towns. None of these people gave a crap about the kids on the field, they just didn't have anything better to do with their time, and they wanted an excuse to drink. I supposed it wasn't hurting anybody and made the whole idea of living somewhere so small more bearable, but it frustrated me all the same. Nobody cared that there were more exciting things out there in the world. Nobody even thought to look. All this made some people happy, but it wasn't even close to being enough for me.

  I was happy when Jack came in for some food, even if he did seem a little troubled. He was trying to put on a front, I just wasn't sure to what end. Was he just stressed? Tired? Or was there something else going on?

  He left without mentioning what had him so upset, and I didn't have time to ask, so I figured we would talk about it later. I spent most of my shift run off my feet with drink orders, and only finally got a chance to slow down in the last hour or so. Once I reached a point where everyone's drinks were full, and nobody was waving me down, I indulged in a little relaxation activity.

  That's what drawing had always been for me. It was a way for me to figure out the world around me like I was etching my thoughts onto the paper. It was the best way for me to unwind too, which was probably why I'd gotten so good at it over the years. Not that I was a professional, by any means.

  I had to admit that Jack's little plan worked. I was finally becoming comfortable with the idea of being an artist, and it felt good. Painting had become my new obsession, and I'd used up nearly all of Jack's gift.

  I didn't have my sketchbook with me, so I just grabbed a pen and a cocktail napkin to doodle on. It started out as just a few chaotic lines, but I layered stroke after stroke until Jack's handsome face became recognizable.

  Around then was when Donnie and his three musketeers walked through the door.

  It was normal for him to come into the bar so late, and at first, I didn't even glance up. I'd gotten used to Donnie's presence when I was working. So far we'd barely spoken, save to exchange a few barbed comments here and there when he thought nobody else could hear him. I even thought that we might be able to spend the rest of my time here in peace.

  Then Donnie sauntered up to the bar with the sneer that he always wore when he saw me drawing. It churned up all the old feelings that I'd been doing a piss poor job of sorting through on my own. Talking things out with Jack had helped, but Jack wasn't here now. Anxiety clawed up my throat. My hand longed to cover the drawing, but I refused to appear embarrassed by something that mattered so much to me. Not anymore.

  "You know the great thing about drawing on cocktail napkins?" Donnie asked.

  His friends flanked him, waiting eagerly to hear my response.

  "Hello boys," I greeted with false enthusiasm. "Can I get you something to drink?"

  "The great thing about drawing on cocktail napkins," Donnie continued, even though I didn't want to hear it, "is that you can still use them afterward."

  He snatched the napkin up before I could do anything and blew his nose, loudly and dramatically, before scrunching it into a ball and tossing it onto the bar top.

  I glowered at him but was mindful not to react. He wanted me to freak out. He wanted to push me. I would not do what he wanted.

  "Can I get you guys a drink?" I repeated coldly.

  "You know who probably really needs a drink right now?" Donnie asked, looking each way at his friends. He turned back to me. "What's that loser you're dating named again? Zach?"

  I gritted my teeth but didn't answer.

  Donnie barreled on. "I'm surprised he's not in here tonight. Say, how many beers does it take to forget that you're a loser who can't even keep a construction job?"

  What the hell was Donnie talking about? I was torn between wanting to ask him and wanting to tell him to get the hell out. In the end, I chose the more diplomatic, third option.

  "Can I get you guys a drink?"

  Donnie must have caught the flicker of surprise on my face. His expression soon molded into one of pure glee. "Oh, you don't know, do you?" he taunted.

  The bait finally worked. "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "That backwoods hick you're dating just got fired, big time." He flashed his teeth in a wide grin, one that made my stomach turn. "I knew he was no good from the second he first walked through that door. No good, slimy son of a bitch."

  His friends laughed, all agreeing with him and egging him on.

  "I bet it's not going to be long before you come crawling back," Donnie jeered. "Not that I'll want that pussy of yours now that it's all gross and diseased. Seriously, you should think about getting a rabies shot. I bet you're not the only animal he's been fucking."

  I lost it.

  I. Lost. It.

  My vision bled red, and my hands started to shake. All I could hear was the thudding of my blood in my veins and the choppy breaths I managed to suck into my lungs. The next thing I knew I was grabbing the mostly full beer of the guy down the bar and dumping it over Donnie's head.

  It was one of the most satisfying things I had ever done or would ever do in my life, but that didn’t mean it was a good idea. Donnie started sputtering and screaming bloody murder. His friends didn’t know what to do, and watching them flit around Donnie anxiously while he shouted, shaking beer from his hair with every turn of his head, was the best part of the whole thing. It was like they were of a hive mind and I’d just shorted out their leader.

  Hank, drawn by the commotion, came storming onto the floor. He took one look at Donnie and the satisfied expression on my face and pointed to the door.

  “I told you, Melissa! No drama! You’re fired!”

  It was quiet in the bar by this point, but those around who’d witnessed the debacle started rising to my defense.

  “You didn’t hear the shit he was saying to her, Hank!” a woman called.

  “You can’t fire Melissa!” a man chimed in, while the rest of his group hollered their support.

  I was touched that so many people were ready to bite the bullet for me, especially against two Beringers. I wanted to jump on top of the bar and start making bows, but that would have only made Hank angrier.

  He stomped over to me and shook his head. “Sorry, Mel. I told you.”

  Donnie snarled, “Want me to drag her out?”

  “That won’t be necessary.” There was sadness in Hank’s eyes now, and I wondered how much he wished he was kicking Donnie out instead of me. We’d been working together a long time and, while things had always sta
yed professional (or as professional as things could be in a dive bar), I liked to think the old man had a soft spot for me.

  Soft spot or no, he was still making a godawful mistake. Donnie deserved everything I’d done to him and more, but since nobody ever stood up to him in this godforsaken town, I got to play the whipping boy. And I was pissed.

  “Fucking Beringers,” I spat, slapping my bar towel down onto the counter. “You can all go fuck yourselves! Or each other, for all I care. I don’t know what kind of weird shit your fucked up egotistical family is into, but I’m better off without you.”

  With that, I threw my middle fingers into the air and stormed out the door.

  The adrenaline and rage coursing through me were powerful enough to numb my panic, but not for long. I made it out the door and to my car before I realized the full extent of tonight's misfortune. Unless Donnie was just trying to mess with me, Jack got fired today. I also just got fired. We'd been saving as much as we could but neither of us were making great money, and we certainly didn't have enough to leave town and start somewhere new.

  By the time I got back to the hotel, the panic had crystallized, and it was with a stomach heavy with dread that I stepped through the door to what had become our little home. Our little hideaway from the rest of this godawful town and all the people determined to bring us down in it.

  "Hey," Jack said, rising from the couch when he saw me. His thick brows were drawn down in either concern or stress. I figured it wasn't concern since he probably didn't know I'd been fired.

  "You got fired?" I asked, letting the door slide closed behind me.

  Jack ran a hand through his hair and walked toward me. "I was going to tell you as soon as you got home," he said. "I swear I wasn't trying to keep it from you. I just didn't want to stress you out at work."

  I sighed and walked over to the bed, tossing myself onto it and lying limp. "I'm not mad," I said. "I can't be. I got fired too."

  "What?" His tone contained a level of urgency that I was much too tired for, and he was only going to get angrier when he found out why I was jobless. I just hoped that when he did I'd be able to keep him from storming off into the night seeking justice.