by Mia Ford
I closed my eyes in frustration as I listened to her feet retreat deeper into the house. My time with sweet Ashlyn had come to an end.
Chapter 12: Chance
It took me almost an hour to get back into town. Driving up to Ashlyn’s place made the distance seem miniscule, but actually having to walk it in the heat of the Texas sun shed a new light on just how far away from the town center she really was.
I kept my head low, avoiding eye contact with the scant number of people awake and strolling down the main road. I wanted to get to the motel, pack and get the hell out of here. I didn’t even care about the things I had left at Ashlyn’s house. The feelings coursing through me right now, the embarrassment I was experiencing, it was like I had been slapped across the face. Hard.
Add to that the fact that my best friend was screwing me over, and you got yourself the perfect blend of self-pity and loathing.
You should have just kept your head low and not gotten involved.
Too late for that now.
I clenched my fists and buried them in my pockets. I didn’t know what was pissing me off more, the fact that I had screwed things up with Ashlyn or the fact that Dennis was trying to screw me over. But the more I thought about it, the more I felt like I could handle Dennis; I just had no idea what to do about Ashlyn.
“You just had to go and fall for her, didn’t you?” I muttered to myself.
The Chance Ridder from two days ago would have known better. He would have been able to keep a straight head on his shoulders and get the hell out of dodge before any of this had happened. There was no room for emotions in his life, no space for feelings and caring and all that other bullshit that was clogging up my mind and making me feel like shit. He would have handled this the right way; fuck the girl, then leave.
A part of me kind of hated that Chance Ridder just a little bit for letting things go so easily.
By the time I reached the motel, the sun was beating down hard, and I had worked up a good sweat. A cold shower was what I needed, then a few hours of complete silence while I tried to figure out what the hell I would do next. There was no doubt in my mind that I had to get back to Austin. Staying here any longer would only make things back home worse, and I didn’t want that. But at the same time, leaving Ludwig meant leaving Ashlyn, and with the way things stood between us right now, I didn’t want that either.
Pull yourself together.
I shook my head angrily, ran a hand through my hair and tried to clear my head. First things first, clean up the mess Dennis had made and somehow get that knife out of my back. I walked past the motel, making my way towards Hank in hopes that the Chevy would be ready for me by the morning. I found the man sitting in the shade, legs propped up on a milk crate and his hat pulled over his eyes.
“Hank.” I snapped my fingers at him, waking him up.
Hank pushed his hat up, squinted at me and smiled. “Mr. Ridder,” he said. “Good news. Your head gasket came in.”
“That’s great to hear,” I said. “How long before it’s fixed?”
Hank frowned. “Leavin’ already?”
“I think I’ve overstayed my welcome,” I nodded.
Hank looked at me for a beat, then shrugged. “Wasn’t gonna work on her until later in the mornin’, but if you’re in a hurry now, I’ll get right to it.”
“You think you’ll be done by tonight?”
“That bad, huh?” Hank asked.
“Excuse me?”
“With Ashlyn,” Hank said. “Things didn’t go so well I take it.”
“How about this?” I said, changing the subject. “You get the Chevy ready within a couple of hours, and I’ll update your workstation free of charge.”
“That’s a mighty fine offer, Mr. Ridder, but I’d be lyin’ to ya if I promised that,” he said. “Definitely not before tomorrow mornin’ for sure.”
I sighed and scratched the back of my head, looking at Chevy and cursing it for everything it had put me through. “Fine,” I finally said. “I’ll find another way back to Austin. I’ll send someone over to pick it up tomorrow.”
“Your call, boss,” Hank said, looking at me like I was in desperate need for a friend.
I thanked him and made my way back to the motel. I speed dialed Alice on the way.
“Tell me you’re on the road,” she said.
“Truck’s down until tomorrow,” I said. “How was the meeting?”
“Postponed until tomorrow,” Alice replied. “Are you sure the truck will be ready in time?”
“I’m not waiting until tomorrow,” I said. “Call Miles and tell him to come pick me up. I’ll send you the location now.”
* * *
I sat on my bed, the smell of the lilies faint now that Ashlyn hadn’t replaced the flowers in two days. I twirled the phone between my hands, trying to decide whether or not to call her. She wouldn’t answer me anyway; I was sure of that. But a part of me still wanted to dial that number.
I tossed the phone aside, ran my hands across my face and ruffled my hair in frustration. I needed to get a grip. There were bigger problems right now. I needed to get to Austin and deal with Dennis first, and then I’d be able to figure out just what to do about Ashlyn. Right now, my mind was clogged with problems, and there would be no thinking straight until the one thing that got me into this mess in the first place had been dealt with.
Fuck, I hated this.
I stood up and paced about the room, grabbing my phone again and checking the time. If Miles had left when I called Alice, then it would be another three hours at least until he got here. I should have told her to send the damn company helicopter. That meant three hours of me alone with my thoughts, and if that didn’t kill me, I didn’t know what would. If I didn’t get a hold of my emotions, that heart attack would be knocking on my door a lot sooner than foretold.
I needed to clear my head. Maybe walk a bit around town, although that would only kill a half hour or so, not more. Chuck would only be good enough company for maybe an hour before we both got bored of each other, and Hank wasn’t a better choice. Besides, I wanted him focused on fixing the truck, even if I wasn’t going to be driving it back.
That fucking truck.
So many things would have gone differently if that damn head gasket hadn’t have blown. I could have been in Booth right now, enjoying my mother’s food and a relaxing time out in the fields. I wouldn’t be tormented with thoughts of Ashlyn or anyone else for that matter. And I probably would have been able to stop Dennis far before things had blown out of proportion.
I silently cured my father and his piece of shit old truck. Even in the grave, he was still tormenting me. If I had it in me, I’d dig him out, burn what remained of him, and scattered his ashes across the cow dung at the farm back home.
You need to get out of the room.
I needed more than that. I needed a fucking drink.
* * *
Just like every other store in this damned town, the bar was named after the owner, the apostrophe after the name whimsically created in the shape of a beer glass. I hadn’t expected anyone to be at Joel’s this early in the afternoon, but apparently, I wasn’t the only one drinking my troubles away.
I pulled myself up on a stool at the bar, briefly taking note of two men watching me from a booth in the back and an old geezer who looked like he was half asleep over his drink, his head nodding every few seconds before he snapped it back up again and blinked rapidly. The overall atmosphere was enough to make you want to drown in liquor, and the jukebox was playing some old tune that sounded like cats scratching across a chalkboard. I started to regret the choice to come here, and only the view of lines of liquor bottles lined up and waiting to be drunk made me feel a little better.
The bartender was a huge man, easily shadowing Chuck and making me look like a matchstick in comparison. He had a towel in his hand and was cleaning a glass, making me wonder how in the world the thing hadn’t shattered in his grip.
“What
can I getcha?” he asked, giving me a suspicious look.
“Bourbon,” I replied, taking out my cigarettes and lighting one. I inhaled the smoke like a man gasping for his last breath. The smoke burned my lungs, but immediately chilled me out. “Best you got. And keep pouring until I say stop.”
The bartender didn’t move. He stood there, glaring at me, his hand twirling the towel inside the glass as if he were on cruise control. I took a drag from my cigarette, stared back at him and waited.
“You’re the new guy, aren’tcha?”
“The new guy?”
He nodded. “Over at the motel. The one that’s been hanging around with Ashlyn Carter.”
Word really did spread in this fucking place.
“You don’t have to worry about me anymore, sport,” I said with the smoke billowed from my nostrils. “I’m leaving in a few hours.”
“Earl Greene’s been looking to get his hands on you.”
“Tell Earl I have no problems with him,” I said. “Miss Carter was just showing me around town. Nothing else.”
He looked over my shoulder, then back at me. “Mister, I suggest you skip the bourbon and go back to the motel until you’re set to leave.”
“Excuse me?”
“Take my word for it,” the bartender said. “You don’t want to be having a drink here today.”
I turned around to where he was glancing and took note of the two men in the booth. They were staring at me intently, their hands on their beer mugs but neither drinking.
I turned back to the bartender. “Let me guess. One of those guys is Earl Greene?”
The bartender nodded. I heard the shifting of chairs, and didn’t have to turn around to know that Earl and his buddy had gotten up and were making their way towards me.
“I don’t want trouble here,” the bartender said, putting the glass down and reaching under the counter. I had this flash image of him pulling a shotgun out and blowing my head off if I refused to take my problems outside.
“Trust me, big guy, neither do I,” I replied.
The stools on either side of me pulled out, and the men flanked me. The one on my right looked like he had just stepped out of a commercial for monster trucks, and the other looked like he had just been dragged through the mud and had a great story to tell about it. I guessed the one on my left was Earl.
“Afternoon, boys,” I greeted them.
“Well, what d’we have here, Lloyd?” Earl said to his friend. “If it isn’t Ludwig’s most notorious tourist.”
Notorious. Good one.
“I’d like to think I’m your only tourist,” I said.
Lloyd smacked me on the back and laughed. “He’s a funny guy, Earl.”
“Yeah, a real fucking comedian,” Earl smiled. “It’s good to have a sense of humor. Don’t I always say that, Lloyd? That it’s good to have a sense of humor?”
“You sure do, Earl.”
I’m in the middle of one of the worst movies ever, and the scriptwriter had even managed to fuck up the dialogue.
“Say, funny man, how about you tell us a joke.”
I took a drag from my cigarette and looked at him. “Sorry, buddy, all out of jokes since I got here. Your town seems to have sucked all the funny right out of me.”
“Well, then we’ll just have to change that, right Lloyd?” Earl said, clapping his hands together. “It seems like the clown’s lost his laugh.”
“Clown?”
Earl nodded and rubbed his hands together. “Yup, as in a man who clowns around. I hear you’ve been doing that a lot since you got here.”
I squinted at him through the smoke. Not a bad looking guy, if you liked the greasy, mean type. “Is that right?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Earl said, leaning in. “Like clowning around with my wife. Heard you’ve been spending quite a lot of time with her.”
I took a long drag from my cigarette then tapped the end on the ashtray on the bar. “Last I heard, Earl, she was your ex-wife.”
I felt Lloyd shift in his seat, moving closer until I could smell the alcohol on his breath.
“That’s temporary,” Earl hissed. “We’re in the process of healing.”
“So is her face.”
Lloyd grabbed me by the collar, and I turned to him quickly, putting my cigarette out in his forehead. He jumped back, hollering in pain, his stool toppling over. I immediately turned to Earl, and before he could register what had just happened, I slammed my elbow in his face and sent him sprawling to the ground.
I got out of my seat just as Lloyd came for me. I threw a punch, one I knew wouldn’t do much more than anger him, and got the reply I expected. The punch barely fazed him, and he wrapped his big arms around me, picked me up and slammed me down on a table, the force breaking it and leaving me groaning on the floor.
I rolled over, slowly pushing myself to my feet, and felt a kick connect with my side, shooting bolts of pain through my body. I cried out in pain, rolled away from a second onslaught and hurriedly got up. Earl came for me with a speed I thought beyond him, and I quickly dodged his first two punches before landing one of my own. He staggered back, and before Lloyd could come to his aid, I kicked him in the groin, hard.
Lloyd grabbed me again, but this time I was more prepared, and twisted my body around, using his momentum to throw him onto the ground along with me. I slammed my elbow into the big man’s face, hearing the audible sound of breaking bones, and watched blood splatter from his nose. He cried out in agony, rolling away from me and cradling his face.
I was on my feet in seconds, bracing myself against the chair that slammed into me and sent me staggering back. Earl came at me again, but this time I twisted away from the weapon aimed at my head and quickly wrapped an arm around his neck. I squeezed, hard, ignoring the fists slamming into my face as I slowly choked him. I quickly looked to where Lloyd was still trying to stop the bleeding from his nose, and knowing he wouldn’t be troubling me anymore, I squeezed on Earl even harder. He choked in my grip, kicking out uselessly, his arms flailing as he tried desperately to break my hold.
The distinct sound of a shotgun being racked brought my attention around, and I gazed at the bartender as he aimed his gun at me.
“That’s enough, fella,” he said, slowly making his way around the bar. “You let him go and get the hell out of my bar.”
I let Earl go and raised both my hands. Earl kicked away from me, coughing and gagging. When he looked back at me, his face was flushed in anger, and he looked like a rabid dog that had just found its next victim. He lunged for me, but stopped when the bartender aimed the shotgun at him.
“You, too, Earl,” he said. “Walk it off.”
“What’s going on here, boys?”
We all turned towards the door simultaneously, and I silently cursed my luck when my eyes fell on the man’s chest and star that was pinned there, glistening in the sunlight.
Chapter 13: Ashlyn
It took me at least two hours to stop crying, and maybe an hour more before I could finally look at myself in the mirror without cringing. I tried to get ready as quickly as I could, tying my hair in a loose ponytail and only adding touches of makeup to my face. I still had a job to do, after all, and I didn’t want Chuck and Martha worrying too much.
I walked into the living room, trying my best to create a mental checklist to keep my mind off of Chance, when I saw his things strewn next to the couch.
Damn you, Chance Ridder.
I felt tears well up in my eyes again, and I quickly pushed them back, taking a deep breath to steady myself as I collected everything in a bag and tossed it next to the door. I had never felt so humiliated in my life. I had opened up to him completely, trusted him fully, and it all came crashing back at me, like a brutal slap to the face. I didn’t even care that he had tried to fix it with his little speech. All I cared about was not seeing him again.
Which made my job even harder. The delivery to the motel would bring me in his vicinity, and I knew
that he would probably try to talk to me again. I had to think of something to say to him, something that would stop us from making a scene in the middle of the motel. My only hope was that Hank had finished fixing the truck and Chance had left Ludwig for good. Then again, I knew I wouldn’t be that lucky.
Stop thinking about him.
Right, like that would somehow miraculously keep him out of my life.
I went through my morning rituals in the greenhouse as quickly as possible, and within an hour I had my truck packed and ready to go. My phone rang just as I got into the driver’s seat, and I almost ignored it if it hadn’t been sitting on my dashboard. Martha’s name flickered on and off on the screen.
“Martha, welcome back,” I said, answering the phone.
“I’d say the same to you, sweetheart,” Martha replied with a light chuckle. “Chuck tells me you’ve been missing for almost two days.”
“Was just down with the flu,” I lied. “Feeling a little better this morning. Actually, I’m on my way to you now.”
“Excellent,” Martha replied. “I’ll be waiting with fresh pie and coffee.”
I smiled, hung up, and headed toward town.
* * *
The first thing that caught my eye as I drove into the motel was the long black limousine parked in front of the office. It looked so out of place, I almost thought that I was dreaming things. It was the way the twins standing on the sidewalk ogling it that made it real.