Southern Charms

by S. E. Kloos

  Giving her an understanding smile, Marshal nodded. “Well, maybe next week?”

  Doubtful, she thought but still smiled back. “Maybe next week.”

  Days turned into weeks, which turned into the marking of her first month in the middle of nowhere, bored out of her mind. The only thing worth mentioning that happened during that time, was the bruise had faded enough that she didn’t need to use as much cover up to hide it. There was still discoloration because she was so pale, but it wasn’t so black it put a sharpie to shame anymore. It was that really annoying yellow ocher color with a green tint. Good thing too, because she was out of liquid based concealer and refused to go out in public to get more until it couldn’t be seen at all.

  Best laid plans never go according to plan for her, however.

  She was curled up on the porch swing reading a book when her uncle came out, took a seat next to her, and patted her leg. Finishing the sentence she was reading, she put her book down before smiling at him. “Hey, Uncle Marsh, what’s up?”

  Rubbing the back of his neck a few times, Marshal looked over at his niece. “Well, your aunt and I are goin’ to the show this afternoon, and we want you to come with us.”

  Blanching at the thought, knowing that he was referring to the rodeo that they have been talking about for the last week and not a movie, she shook her head. “Uncle Marsh…”

  He cut her off. “You been cooped up in this house a month now, Eribeth. It’s ‘bout time you went out and did somethin’. There are plenty of kids your age ‘round. I am sure you’ll have no problem makin’ nice with ‘em.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “That’s not it, Uncle Marsh.”

  He cocked a challenging brow at her, “That so? Then tell me what it is, Elizabeth?”

  She dropped her face into her palm, knowing he was about to get pissed off, because that was the only time he used her actual name. Sighing hard, she looked back up at him. “It’s just not my thing, Uncle Marshal.”

  He crossed his arms and leaned back onto the arm of the swing. “Really now? You ever been to one?” Seeing both the defeat in her eyes and the shake of her head, he cocked his. “Then how you know? Honestly, Eribeth, you actin’ like your life is over. In truth, you the one keepin’ yourself from livin’, Child. Think about it. We’re leavin’ in an hour.”

  Dropping her head back on the headrest of the swing, Elizabeth closed her eyes and sighed. It wasn’t like she was against spending time with her aunt and uncle outside the house. It was that she was out of the necessary items to cover the evidence that she was an idiot, and an hour wasn’t enough time to both get ready to go AND go the nearest bigger town to get it. It was one or the other, and since she didn’t have transportation, she was gonna just have to cover it with her hair and pray there was no wind today.

  Yeah, ‘cause praying got you anywhere. Her luck, the wind would be gale force.

  With heavy feet, she trudged inside and up the steps to her room, to figure out what the hell you ever wear to a rodeo. Knowing from just being out there that it was hot as sin outside, she went with a pleated jean skirt and a white tank top that showed way more skin than she wanted. She was lazy over the last month, not taking her dirty clothes down stairs to get them washed like her aunt kept telling her to. It wasn’t that it was way low cut or anything, but it was normally used as a pajama top so it only came down to under her ribs and above her belly button. Not knowing what kind of literal shit was going to be lying on the ground, she opted for socks and her ratty old sneakers, so she didn’t ruin her good tennis shoes.

  Once all that was figured out, she went to shower. No need to smell like shit just because you were going to be around it.

  After she got out, she blow dried her hair straight, then went hunting for her red bandana to use to keep her hair in place once she got it to lay right over her face. There wasn’t any way to do her hair that would cover it all, but she was able to cover most of it. Well, the worst of it, which was right over her cheekbone. All she could think as she walked down the steps forty-five minutes later, was thankfully the swelling mostly went away, so you had to be relatively close to see it now.

  She dug through her purse on the dining room table for some cash and her I.D., on the off chance there was going to be alcohol for sale, because she wasn’t sure she could make it through this sober. After slipping that into her back pocket, she gave herself a onceover in the mirror in the entryway. Deciding it was as good as it was gonna get, she grabbed a jacket out of the closet, then left out the front door to meet up with her aunt and uncle, who were waiting outside for her.

  Chapter 5

  The ride to the fairgrounds was both quiet and uneventful. She didn’t want to be there, and the older adults knew it, so neither of them pressed her to talk or try to get her excited about it.

  Once there, Elizabeth followed her aunt and uncle through the crowd to the ticket booth, then to the arena set up in the very center of the grounds, and finally to the stands so she knew where they were going to be because she, thankfully, saw a beer vendor. After leaving them with her jacket and telling them where she was going and asking if they wanted anything, she was off to get some liquid comfort.

  It didn’t take her horribly long to find the stand again, but the waiting in line sure as hell did. Looks like she isn’t the only one that couldn’t sit through this shit sober. Good to know that even the locals needed beer to enjoy this; made her feel better.

  She was three people from the front when she heard the most god-awful annoying voice behind her. “Lord, did you see him? I swear he gets hotter every time I see ‘im.”

  Okay, she was wrong. The next voice was the most annoying thing she had ever heard. It was high pitched and nasally and just... yuck. “Him? Sweetie, did you see his brother? That man is God’s gift to the world. This honey knows what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.” Then, to her horror, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

  Looking to the sky and asking for something, anything to not hit the bitch, Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder. She had to work at swallowing the groan that was crawling up her throat. There before her was a blonde chick who really needed a root touch-up, with what had to be the worst implant job she had ever seen... yet Elizabeth was from New York. Moving her eyes just a tad, she then saw a legal midget with sun-bleached brown hair that was sticking up all over the place, like the short shit shoved a fork in an electrical outlet. Looking back at the one who was looking at her like they were best friends, she cocked a brow. “Yeah?”

  The blonde pointed a thumb at the midget, her voice reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard when she spoke. “Tell this little tart that Xander is so much hotter than Kyle.” When all Elizabeth did was blink at her, the blonde huffed. “Well, alright, I guess they do look an awful lot alike being brothers and all, but Xander totally tops Kyle.” A pointed look overtook her features, “Don’t he?”

  Blinking once again, and for lack of anything else to say, Elizabeth just gave shrug as she heard ‘Next’ called. It was her turn. “Yeah, sure. He’s sex on legs.” Turning back to the counter, she gave the worker an imploring look. “The biggest beer you got, please.”

  The guy smirked at her s he asked to see her I.D.. While looking at it, he asked. “Have too much fun at the shindig last night, Sugar?” Not knowing what he was talking about, but not really wanting to get asked why she wanted that much beer without a reason, she said yes, took her I.D. back, and handed him a ten for the glass of beer, telling him to keep the change. “Much obliged, Ma’am. You enjoy yourself now.”

  Not likely. Smiling at the guy, she put as much enthusiasm in her voice as she could. “I will thanks.” Moving out of the way and around the side of the stand, Elizabeth brought the cup to her lips and started chugging, drinking a quarter of it so it didn’t spill as she was walking.

  As she was about to start looking for a place to get her aunt and uncle the requested hotdogs, the most annoying creature ever born started talking again. “I didn’t see ya at
the party last night.”

  Lifting her eyes and seeing the brown eyes of the bottle blonde again, she shrugged. “Didn’t see you either. Guess that makes us even, doesn’t it?”

  The bottle blonde narrowed her eyes at her, a sneer on her face and a mocking tone to her voice. “I don’t reckon I ever seen you anywhere b’fore.”

  Elizabeth winked. “New in town. Not really a shocker that you haven’t seen me around.”

  The bottle blonde blinked once before she broke out in a wide grin, holding out a hand. “Oh, well, sorry Sugar. Welcome to town. I’m Lynn.”

  Elizabeth glanced at the hand presented to her a second before looking back to her face. “Good for you. Excuse me.” She never did have a lot of tolerance for fakes.

  As she was turning to walk away, Lynn scoffed a loud noise. “Oh, hell naw. You don’t just dismiss me like that.”

  One thing about being in an abusive relationship, you get kick ass reflexes. Plus, the stupid bitch was top heavy. Stepping to the side with a twist, Elizabeth was able to avoid the sneak attack from behind. Instead of getting tackled, she stood there watching as Lynn basically dove face first into the dirt, grunting rather loudly when she hit.

  The midget ran to her friend’s side, kneeling down next to her, asking in a high pitched voice that hurt Elizabeth’s ears, if she was alright before turning on her with a glare. “You fuckin’ bitch. What the hell did you do that for?”

  Elizabeth just blinked once before glowering. “I didn’t even fucking touch her. She came after me halfcocked and ready to explode, not the other way around. Now, as I said, excuse me.”

  Turning on her heel, she walked away before the problem could escalate anymore. ‘Make nice with ‘em my ass, Uncle Marsh’. Taking her time, Elizabeth walked along the different booths and drank her beer, seeing what was there while she hunted down the elusive creature called a hot dog vender.

  When she was about three quarters of the way down the path of stalls, she happened to look over. Her heart stopped, her beer hitting the ground. There, not fifteen feet from her was her worst nightmare come true… looking right back at her.

  She watched in absolute terror as his eyes lit up, even while that dark, cruel smirk that she would never forget pulled his lips apart, showing the perfect teeth on the other side. The voice that used to melt her into a puddle froze her blood in her veins as it caressed her ears like a long lost lover. “Well, hello, Elizabeth. I have been looking all over for you.”

  Tears prickled her eyes as he took a step toward her, but she was able to squeak out “How?”

  The cruel smile darkened, and his eyes brightened all the more at the fear in her voice. His voice held amusement and mock. “The computer is a wonderful device. That aside, we never got to finish our little talk. I think we should do that now.”

  What got her feet moving was when she saw his hand begin to raise toward her. Pivoting on point, she darted off like a bullet from a gun back the way she came. She bobbed and weaved through the masses. She never paused, but did glance over her shoulder, whimpering when she saw he was following her. The only thing she had on her side was the one that had always worked against her before... her size. She was so much smaller in comparison, that she was able to squeeze through spots he wasn’t.

  Turning back to look where she was going, Elizabeth skidded to a stop when she saw the two girls from the beer stand straight ahead of her, looking like two pissed off princesses. She just knew they were looking for her. Whimpering again, she looked back over her shoulder to see Brandon closing the distance she’d been able to put between them faster than she could think of a plan. It was then that the tears broke the dam she had built over the last month.

  Glancing to the side of her, she saw a path between the vendor stands. She pushed off with her left foot to lunge to the right, twisting around and running again. She wasn’t sure if the two girls saw her or not, but she knew Brandon saw where she went. All she had to do was regain lost ground, then find a place to hide for awhile before making the attempt to find her aunt and uncle to get out of there.

  She hadn’t seen anyone on the path when she took it, so she kept her head down, watching where she was going so she didn’t trip over roots or cords. Turning to look over her shoulder again, she saw Brandon take the turn. He was behind her again, a glare on his face.

  Then he yelled, shooting ice water down her spine. “Get back here, Elizabeth!”

  Since she was looking behind her, she didn’t see that there were people in front of her now so she slammed HARD into the back of the person standing there. So hard in fact, that she was knocked backwards onto her back, her bandana long since gone in her mad dash. The guy she hit was knocked forward, and would have probably fallen on his face, had he not had someone in front of him to stop that from happening.

  Xander whirled around with a ‘what the fuck’ after his brother got him steady on his feet, only to see a guy about his age slide to a stop. He ignored him for the moment, looking down to see who it was that ran into him. What he saw would haunt him for the longest time, he was sure of it. There was nothing but a tiny little thing pushing herself up into a lounging position, after having laid herself out from running into him. That wasn’t the part that tore at him, however. It was the look on her face when she glanced up to see what happened.

  That and what he saw ON her face.

  There were tears flowing a river down her cheeks, falling from eyes that were full of the purest fear he had ever seen in his life. What had his attention however, was the nearly healed bruise that covered over half her face. That was when he lifted only his eyes back up to get another look at the guy, who was now backing away from the scene. It took a second, but it then clicked where he knew that face from. He had seen a clip on the news around a month ago when he was in Vegas, about a woman beater who had skipped town right after his daddy posted his bail.

  That mother fucker.

  Talking in a quiet voice to his brother, so that the son of a bitch couldn’t hear him, “Ky, ‘member that sumbitch from the news last month, the one from New York that jumped bail... Waterloo, Westfall, what the fuck ever his name was?”

  Kyle looked from the girl who just could not seem to get her bearings to his brother. “Yeah, why?”

  Xander nodded at Brandon as he continued to back away. “That’s him.” Then he put his cigarette between his lips and held out a hand. “Hand me my rifle. I’ma shoot ‘im.”

  Shrugging a shoulder, Kyle picked up the gun he dropped in lieu of catching his brother, and then smacked it against Xander’s palm. “Don’t miss.”

  Twirling the rifle around into a better grip. After he cocked it loaded, he raised the barrel to take aim. “Never do.”

  Brandon heard the ‘click’ of the shotgun. Narrowly avoiding pissing himself, he pivoted on his heel and bolted. Just before he reached the crowd, he heard a deep baritone voice covered in a thick southern twang call out. “You better run, Boy. If I see ya again, I pull the fuckin’ trigger.”

  Shaking his head while sneering in absolute disgust, Xander handed his gun back to his brother, who wasted no time uncocking it. He grunted, taking his smoke from his mouth while crossing his arms. “Fuckin’ pansy. Ain’t no bigger weaklin’ in the world than a man that can hit a lady, and not take his licks in return.”

  Kyle snorted and crossed his arms. “You was aimin’ to kill ‘im, Xan. You expected different?”

  Xander shook his head with a backward glance at him. “I said I was gonna shoot ‘im. Didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout killin’ ‘im.”

  Kyle rolled his eyes, giving his brother a flat look. “You were gonna kill ‘im.”

  Xander just smirked. “I was prolly gonna kill ‘im.” He then turned his attention to the lady who was still on the ground trying to figure out what happened. Taking one last hit, he flicked his cigarette butt into the dirt a few feet away, and then crouched down into a squatting position. “Hey there, Little Darlin’. You alright?”

&n
bsp; Distant eyes looked up at him, seeing but not. She was still crying something fierce, whimpering like a wounded pup every now and then, tearing his heart to pieces with every sound she made. When she spoke, her voice was airy, confused. “Patrick?”

  A small smile pulled at his lips, “Close, Little Darlin’. I’m Xander” he then nodded backwards, “and this here’s my brother Kyle.” Xander watched as she tried to connect the dots but, somewhere between the fear and more than likely a crack on the back of the head from falling, something was getting lost for her. Pursing his lips , he tilted his head a bit. “What’s your name, Little Darlin’?”

  She blinked and tripped over her tongue a few times, but was finally able to answer that for him. “Elizabeth.”

  Nodding to her, he then looked over his shoulder at Kyle. “Find a security guard or stable hand and have ‘em go to the announcer’s booth. Tell them to make one and have whoever she came with taken to the stables. I’ll get her there.”

  Kyle nodded, about to head off and do that, when Xander stopped him. He looked back to see a glare on his brother’s face.

  “Leave my gun.”

  Chapter 6

  It had taken nearly ten minutes to get the little thing to the stable she was so out of it. In the end, Xander ended up having to carry her, his rifle tucked under the arm that was under her knees.

  When he got there, he asked for one of the paramedics, went over to his truck, and then took the tailgate down. Propping a foot on it first to help hold the little lady in his arm, he took his gun out from under his arm to set it on the gate before shifting his hold on the girl, sitting her down on it as well before picking his rifle back up. He was absolutely dead serious about shooting the fucker, if he happened to see him again.

  He leaned a hip against the side of his truck, gun across his shoulders with his arms draped over it, crossing his ankles as they waited for the medical personnel to show up. His best guess was she was in shock, and he was still pretty sure she got knocked for a doozie when she ran into him. For as small as she is, he was amazed that she had nearly succeeded in taking him to the ground, too. Hell, she would have had Kyle not been there. He was at least a full foot taller than her, plus he outweighed her by quite a bit. She would be lucky to weigh 120, while he was 185... solid.