Candi’s Debt

by Aubrey Cara

  “Yeah, I bet. Interesting thing is I don’t recall how the hell you got here in the first place.” He shoots Hank another look before he turns and heads back down the hall.

  A door slams making me jump, but Hank doesn’t flinch. He walks out of the room not even looking back at me. I’m still standing in the same spot when Hank comes out dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and tosses a t-shirt at me.

  “Cover yourself the hell up,” he says, not even pausing as he walks to the door.

  I blink back tears as I put on a faded old green t-shirt that’s sporting some band I’ve never heard of. It falls to my mid-thighs and is blessedly longer than the skirt I have on. Hank impatiently stands with the door open. The second I step onto the front porch he slams the door behind me.

  He storms past me and wrenches open the door to the 4Runner. The second I’m inside, he slams that door too. I’m expecting it this time, but it still makes me flinch. We drive in silence. There isn’t even music playing. It’s so quiet all I hear is the engine and a buzzing in my ears. Hank’s practically strangling the steering wheel, refusing to look at me. His behavior is reminiscent of coked-up Cody and it’s starting to piss me off.

  It’s not like I’m the only one who said awful things last night. And I had every right to be mad and lash out. I was spanked, put in the corner, and had a fancy piece of metal shoved up my ass. I don’t remember him having anything shoved up his ass.

  Cody hadn’t even ever done anything like that to me. I would have killed him. Yet, I stupidly went along with everything Hank did to me, like a weak brainless twit.

  “You’re just like Cody.” The words are out of my mouth before I know what I’m saying. Hanks looks over at me sharply. We’re a street away from my house and it’s the first time he’s looked at me.

  “Excuse me?” he says.

  “You heard me.”

  “I was giving you a chance to take it back.”

  “Well, that’s too bad, because I’m not gonna take it back. You. Are. Just. Like. Cody.”

  Hank slams on the brakes and parks in the middle of the road, and calmly turns toward me. “I’m nothing like that little shit.”

  “You’re right,” I say tauntingly. “He only hit me when he was high. You do it stone cold sober.”

  I can practically see the smoke coming out of Hank’s ears. He surprises me by turning back to the road and putting the car in gear, driving the rest of the way to my house in silence. He’s obviously fuming the whole way, but he parks in my driveway before saying anything.

  “He hit you because he thought you were weaker than him,” he says quietly. “I spanked you because I know you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. He thought he knew better than you. I know you’re better than the choices you’ve been making, and I cared enough to do something about it.” His voice is low and full of restrained fury. And it doesn’t pass me that he uses past tense when he said cared. As in, he no longer does.

  His words make something hitch in my chest. “That makes no sense,” I argue, but my voice is small and I hate how much sense he’s actually making.

  “Whatever. I guess it doesn’t really matter then. You’re home. Get out.”

  I reach for the door handle glancing back over at him. A firestorm is raging. He’s so pissed I can see it radiating off of him. I guess I hesitate too long because he reaches across me and opens the door.

  “We’re done here,” he says. “It’s time to go.”

  I want to argue I don’t want to be done. He’s given up on me and I want to beg him to please not give up on me, but I can feel tears stinging the back of my eyes, and I’m two point two seconds away from sobbing, so I nod as I unbuckle my seatbelt and slide out.

  “And stay the hell away from Sugar Daddy’s. That place is bad news.” He grabs my wrist before I can close the door and waits until I look at his angry face. “I mean it, Candi. I’ve heard things about Sugar Daddy’s.” His jaw clenches. “Working there you may end up selling more of yourself than you ever intended to. If you need to take your clothes off for strangers so damn bad hit up another club. Any other club. But I suggest you stop taking the easy road, princess. It only makes life harder than it has to be.”

  I have no idea what the hell that’s supposed to mean, but I jerk my head in a nod fighting back tears as I close the door. If this is the easy road I want nothing to do with the hard road.

  Hank’s still in the driveway as I go in my front door. Only after I’m inside does he leave. Even hating me he’s looking out for me. The feeling coursing through me at that realization is so foreign I don’t even know how to process it.

  “Dyl, I’m home,” I call out down the hall as I go to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water. I guzzle half and set it on the counter. “Dylan?” I call out again. It’s nearly eleven am and I can’t believe he’s still sleeping. Walking to the end of the hall where his room is I push open his door and find his room empty. Huh. The house is quiet and he’s not home, but I don’t know where the hell he could have possibly gone. He doesn’t have a car. I just really hope he’s not getting into trouble.

  My cell phone starts ringing from the kitchen and I flip it open and answer before looking at caller ID. “Hello?”

  Cowboy Casanova’s voice on the other end makes me wish I’d let it go to voicemail. I have no idea how he got my number and I probably don’t want to know. “One-fifteen this afternoon, at the club. Be there.” His laughing voice disconnects before I can reply. I stare at my phone wondering what the hell I’m going to do. Outside of the fact I don’t want to face Dom, my jeep is still in the parking lot of Sugar Daddy’s which means I’m SOL for a ride.

  Hearing the front door open I turn and see Dylan coming in with his gangly but harmless friend Byron. They’ve been buddies since the first grade, but Byron always kept himself mostly out of trouble. Which means he’s been avoiding Dylan for a while now. That they’re together can only mean Dylan is serious about turning himself around.

  “Hey guys, where’ve y’all been?” I ask.

  “I think the question is, where have you been?” Dylan asks looking me over.

  I’d momentarily forgotten my state of dress. “It’s a long story.” One I’d rather not rehash. Especially with Byron here.

  “Well, whatever, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve got some news.” Dylan’s got a stupid grin on his face as he looks at me. My stomach sinks with dread. It’s the same bright-eyed smiling look my dad gets when there is a high stakes game going on that he has just enough money to get cut in on.

  “Dylan joined the army,” Byron blurts, and Dylan smacks him.

  “Man, I wanted to tell her,” Dylan says.

  I swear there’s ringing in my ears and my world tilts. “You did what?” That can’t be right. He wouldn’t. “Why, why would you do something like that?” If he’d said he joined the circus I’d be less surprised than I am now.

  “Don’t be mad,” he says. “I’ve just been thinking about stuff, and then I was thinking about you, and what you’d want me to do, and how you told me to get a real job.”

  “I meant like at Kinkos, or the smoothie place. I didn’t think you’d join the army.”

  “I’m eighteen,” he says like that’s supposed to be significant. “It’s time I man up. This will give me direction. I’ll be serving my country and be able to go to college. Haven’t you been saying I need to go to college?” I’m still dumbfounded when he says, “Come on Candi, it’s a worthwhile endeavor.”

  I’ve heard that phrase before. “Hank and Wyatt, did one of them put you up to this?”

  “It was my idea,” he says, but the way he flushes I know it was an idea that stemmed from the two ex-Marines.

  “You do realize our country is at war? What if something happens to you, Dyl? You could die.”

  “At least it’ll be for honorable reasons.”

  “I don’t care if it’s for honorable reasons. Anything that gets you dead is a lousy reason.” />
  He sighs. “Can-can, I need to get out of this town. This is the best way for me to do that and you know it.”

  “I know no such thing.”

  “I’m excited about this. Can’t you at least be happy for me? Hell, you’re the one that’s always wanted me to go to school, do something with myself. I thought you’d be proud of me.”

  He sounds so hurt and looks so disappointed with my reaction, it hits me he’s done this more than just for himself. Foolishly, he was thinking of me. All the anger drains out of me at his words, leaving me feeling deflated. Throat tight, I swallow thickly before I can speak. “I’m proud of you, Dyl. I’m still not happy, but I’m proud of you.”

  “This is going to be good for both of us,” he says, giving me a hug. “You’ll see. Just think of all you can do without me around to fuck shit up. You’ll finally be able to go to school yourself.”

  “I should go,” Byron says, looking awkward to be subject to our family moment.

  He’s at the door before I remember my dilemma. “Hey, Byron, wait! Can I get a ride?”

  Byron stops and turns, shrugging. “Um, yeah sure. Where to?”

  “Sugar Daddy’s.”

  Both Byron and Dylan’s eyebrows shoot up at that. Seems they’re familiar with the place.

  “The strip club?” Byron asks.

  “Yeah, I need to get my jeep. It’s been leaking oil, and it wouldn’t start.”

  “Do I even want to know why you were at a strip club last night?” Dylan asks.

  “I decided to pick up a second job.” I shrug. “Lots of girls strip to pay for school.”

  “I thought that was just something strippers said, cause you know…they’re stripping,” Byron says. “Are you going to be a dental hygienist? I feel like a lot of strippers are in school to be dental hygienists.”

  “I’m going to be an accountant.” Although, that’s not even close to why I’ll be working at the club. And I will be working at the club if I don’t manage to get myself murder-raped at my meeting with the drug boss this afternoon. How has my life gotten so messed up?

  “You’re stripping?!” Dylan’s eyes are bugging out of his head as he stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Like taking your clothes off for money? What the hell, Candi?” Dylan is obviously upset, but after everything he’s put me through he can stuff it.

  “You have no room to judge, Dylan Zachariah Dawson.”

  “I’m not judging,” he backpedals. “I’m just—”

  “Judging?”

  “Well, hell, Candi. You’re stripping. You’re a stripper.”

  I roll my eyes. “Don’t get your panties twisted. I haven’t even started yet, so I’m not anything.”

  “But you’re going to be, right?”

  “This isn’t up for debate,” I say. “Byron, do you mind if I take a quick shower before we go? Do you have anywhere you have to be?”

  “No, go ahead. I can wait,” he says, staring at my tits like he’s now wondering what they look like naked.

  “Man, don’t look at my sister like that.”

  Byron’s face flushes red in embarrassment even as he gets defensive. “I wasn’t looking at her like anything, spaz,” he says, but now he’s pointedly not looking at me.

  I turn to go shower when Dylan asks, “Whose shirt are you wearing?”

  I look down at it like I’m not sure where it came from. “Scorpion?” I say the name of the band on the shirt.

  Dylan gives me an I’m-not-a-complete-moron look and huffs, “You know that’s not what I meant. Who does that shirt belong to?”

  I hesitate, debating whether or not I should tell him. “A friend of mine.”

  “That Wyatt guy?”

  “Can you just drop it? I’m going to go hop in the shower.”

  “I’m just trying to look out for you,” he calls out.

  “Well don’t,” I say over my shoulder.

  “I want to make sure you’ve got someone looking out for you after I leave tomorrow.”

  I’m in the bathroom doorway when I hear, tomorrow.“Did you just say tomorrow?” I ask, stepping out into the hall. “As in the day after today, tomorrow?”

  “I know it’s soon, but—”

  “It’s tomorrow. It’s not soon. It’s immediate. You just signed up for this today? And you’re leaving tomorrow?”

  “If I don’t leave tomorrow I have to wait three months.”

  “Would that be so bad?”

  “I don’t want to give myself time to change my mind.”

  “See! You don’t even want to do this.” I don’t know why I’m arguing so fiercely against him joining the military. With him gone he’ll be safe, out of harm’s way. It’s just that, he’ll potentially be in a different kind of danger and I’ll…I’ll be alone.

  “I’m sorry it’s going to be so fast—”

  I hold up a hand. “I’m going to go take a shower,” I say, my voice hoarse as I walk back into the bathroom and shut the door. It’s been me and Dylan against the world for as long as I can remember. When I was six our mom died. A week later my dad disappeared for two days. I was scared shitless, but I had Dylan. He was three, and I wasn’t sure how the hell I was supposed to take care of either of us, but I wasn’t alone. As long as I had him, I wasn’t alone.

  After tomorrow…I stuff my fist in my mouth to stifle my sob.

  This day can’t possibly get any worse. The second I think it I remember I have a meeting this afternoon with a sociopath drug dealer—who I owe three thousand dollars to, thanks to my go army, impulsive brother who is leaving me.

  My ‘quick’ shower takes twenty minutes longer than expected as I indulge in some tears of self pity. It’s while I’m crying in the shower I think of Hank’s big arms wrapped around me last night, and I wish I was back there snuggled into his chest while he held me. But, brilliant me, I blew whatever I could have had with him. He was right. I am careless. I’m careless, and after tomorrow all alone.

  This isn’t my day, or my week. With the way things are going it quite possibly isn’t my year.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  HANK

  I’ve never been accused of being an even tempered person. It’s something I’m aware of and usually work against. My mother was a natural red head. It’s where I get my hair color and quick temper. She always said it was our curse and blessing. I don’t know what she found to be so blessed about it. I think it was something about having a passionate nature.

  Whatever, I hate it.

  If I’m going to smash heads in or cause destruction, it’s with a cool head. Women—well I never knew why guys lost their shit over women. I saw it as weak. I like to be in control in every way and when I know I’m on the verge of losing my shit I step back. I can’t remember the last time I flew off the handle. I think last night and this morning qualify. I’ve been in a haze, pissed off beyond reason. A million excuses pop into my head of why I reacted so damn strongly, but plain and simple, she’s under my skin.

  Candi’s devastated look when I dropped her off eats at me the entire drive home. I let the girl get to me. I put her in the corner and she lashed out, and I took that shit personally. I can see that now, but I don’t know what the hell I should do about it. Hell, I’m not sure I should do anything about it. She’s a complication I don’t need. I’ve never wanted. Maybe it’s better this way.

  When I get back to the house I find Wyatt fully dressed sitting at the kitchen table eating cereal. His packed duffle bag is on the floor next to him.

  I quirk a brow. I can’t believe he’s taken this Candi thing so hard. “Overreact much?” I bite out because I’m pissed Wyatt’s all asshurt over this shit.

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” he says, rolling his eyes. “My brother called. My dad…he’s not doing so hot and Sheriff needs help running things.”

  Sheriff is Wyatt’s older brother and if he’s calling Wyatt home, that means things are seriously bad. I blow out a breath. I feel awful Wyatt’s dad’s health
is failing. He’s a great guy, but life’s a fickle bitch. Even the good ones aren’t immune to getting dealt a shitty hand. He’s been struggling with cancer on and off for a while now. I hope like hell he pulls through, for his and his family’s sake. They aren’t like my family or any family I grew up knowing. They’re tight and loving in a way that makes me equal parts uncomfortable and envious every time I’m around them.

  “Man, I’m sorry to hear about your dad. Do you want me to go back with—”

  “Nah, you got your own shit here. You need to stick around and take care of the bar. You already promised your old man. Besides, from the slapping and moaning coming from your room last night I think you’d be missed.”

  I scratch the back of my neck and shrug in apology. “Man, I—”

  “Save it dickwad. My ego is bruised, not broken. I had a feeling there was something between you two. I’ll just have to find a hottie on the flight home to console me.”

  Wyatt’s grin is back in place. If the me and Candi thing is chafing his ass he doesn’t care enough to make a thing out of it, but I can’t let it go. I’m not sure when we’re going to see each other again. For the first time it seems like our lives are going in different directions.

  “If it makes you feel better, she’s more than just a piece of ass to me.” I’m not exactly sure what she is to me, but I feel like he needs to know I’m not a complete traitorous dick. I’ve never poached on a chick he’s claimed interest in or vice versa.

  A slow grin spreads over Wyatt’s face as he’s looking up at me from the table. “Hank Buchannan, getting all sappy assed over a chick. I never thought I’d see the day. I’m sorry I’m not going to be around to watch you fall on your face.”

  “Why are we friends again?”

  “Hey, whatever, I owe you. Remember Mandy Greenling? Mandy of the long brown hair and deceitfully fine ass?”

  I chuckle remembering the chick he is referring to. We’d been so fucking young, about to do our first tour and dipshit Wyatt falls for this girl we met in Charleston, South Carolina. He’d fallen hard for that girl. They had corresponded the entire time we’d been over in the sand pit. We’d all given him hell over that girl, he’d taken it all in stride. Wyatt had been crazy about her. When we’d gotten back he moved heaven and Earth to be able to go visit her. He’d shown up at her place and discovered she lived with her boyfriend. A guy who had been equally pissed to find out about Wyatt.