Dirty South Drug Wars

by Jae Hood

  “Sounds like a plan … man,” Josie said.

  “Head down the road,” Brodie said as we got in my Jeep. “Toward the highway.”

  My cell made a dinging sound just as I left Main Street. I struggled to remove it from my pocket, making sure Brodie couldn’t see the screen. There were half a dozen missed texts from Tanner, asking to see me soon.

  Meet me tonight.

  Can’t. With Brodie.

  Ditch him.

  Ruuuuude.

  You haven’t told him yet, have you?

  No, but I will. Soon.

  “And that’s the last text Rue Monroe sent before she died.” Lucy nodded at my phone, quoting an old anti-texting commercial.

  “So not funny.”

  She shrugged. “Wasn’t meant to be. You should be careful, Sissy. Folks dying left and right these days. No one escapes death, neither you nor me.”

  A heady silence filled the air, interrupted only by the wind rushing past us. Brodie and Josie exchanged uneasy frowns.

  “This convo is too heavy for my taste,” Josie said. “Where’s this muddin’ spot we’re headed to, Brodie?”

  “Across the bridge in Birchwood.”

  There was no sign of sarcastic humor from his reflection in the rearview mirror. The picture of ease and infectious relaxation, he lounged in the backseat, one arm slung over the side catching the breeze in his cupped hand.

  “Bro, you know we can’t hang out in Birchwood,” I said.

  Brodie snorted. “I say it’s about time we did, don’t you think? You do remember them holding Josie hostage, don’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t call it holding someone hostage,” I grumbled, earning a frown from Josie.

  “Let’s do it,” Josie said. “Come on, Rue. Stop scowling and start driving. You think the Montgomery clan is waiting at the bridge watching for us to cross over? We’ll be in and out in no time.”

  I looked at her in the mirror, unconcerned about crossing the bridge, yet entirely concerned about crossing the bridge with Brodie tagging along. If he found out we’d been hanging with the Montgomery boys before we told him he’d flip.

  “Fine,” I muttered.

  “That’s what I’m talking about.” Brodie gave me a huge grin. “Pull over and let me drive, Rue, and I’ll take y’all to the best mud hole in two counties.”

  I did as he said, pulling onto the side of the road and climbing into the back seat. We crossed the river and drove into Birchwood, a clap of thunder booming overhead.

  Chapter 19

  The only car wash in Birchwood sat on a dark corner off the main highway, but after an hour of mudding we felt brave enough to stop. The streetlights near it had been busted out, probably by some mischievous teenagers with too much time on their hands. The only source of light was a dimly lit sign pointing at the car wash, the round, yellow bulbs flickering in a haunting rhythm. I blinked twice while reading the words on the sign before tossing back my head in laughter. Josie wrinkled her brow, reading the words aloud.

  “Our vacuums suck and our hand jobs are off the chain.”

  Brodie pulled into the car bay, the mud-caked front tires dipping into a pothole and splashing a fresh spray of dirty water into the air. “Birchwood Car Wash sign for the win.”

  “We should do something like that at our town car wash,” Lucy said.

  “Buck Bridges would have a stroke,” Josie replied. “Hey, good idea, Luce. Finish off the Bridges family once and for all.”

  “You’d still have to take out Levi,” Brodie said, cutting the engine. “You know what I heard? I heard he’s been living in the closet all these years. Yup. Finally got tired of hiding his homosexuality. Rumor is he’s living in Memphis with some guy he met on a fetish website.”

  Blank expressions shadowed Josie and Lucy’s faces. Seconds passed by before they burst into fits of laughter, their tears intermingling with the bits of dirt on their cheeks.

  I ran my fingers through my hair, wanting to laugh along with them at the ridiculousness of the rumor, yet unable to find absolute humor in the whole ordeal while nightmares continued to plague me.

  Brodie huffed. “What?”

  “Ignore them.” I patted him on the shoulder and stood, climbing out of the Jeep. “As Nana would say, they ain’t had no home raising.”

  Lucy pursed her lips, puckered them really, like those stupid duck-face selfies she posted online. “You’re one to talk. You had the same raising as us.”

  I held out my hand palm-up, wiggling my fingers. “Someone gonna give me some quarters? I’m out of cash.”

  Brodie fished a few coins from his pocket and climbed out of the Jeep, my sister and Josie soon following. I dropped the coins into the machine and grabbed the nozzle. After choosing the correct setting, I turned with a grin and pulled the trigger, a blast of soapy water spraying my squealing sister. Instead of running, she danced in the spray. The rush of water was the perfect distance to coat her in a fine sheen of bubbles and soap. We took turns between cleaning the Jeep and hosing one another down.

  Apart from our giggles, the only sound puncturing the muggy air was that of an engine, roaring like an angry beast. Mist swirled around our feet, a result of the coolness of the spray mixed with the blistering concrete. Bright beams of headlights turned the mist into a pale white ghost, teasing us as it danced around. Josie cupped her hand over her eyes, her frown now genuine, a curse low on her lips. We all peered at the unfamiliar pickup truck, unidentifiable until the engine died along with the lights.

  A guy peered out of his open window, a sardonic smile on his face. Although Tanner had sent him the one and only time we met, I continued to despise him. The way he leered at us made my skin prickle in discomfort. Something about him didn’t sit well with me, and it had nothing to do with his obvious distaste for my family. An evilness lurked beneath the surface of Drew Kingsley’s cocky façade, trapped inside, itching to burst forth and ravage everything and everyone around him.

  Drew still had cold, pale blue eyes, although they were almost black from the dilation of his pupils. They twitched constantly and darted from face to face. His blond hair was a disheveled mess swirling around his forehead. There was a slight difference in the color of his skin. It was tinged yellow, with an almost sickly glow. His face was a bit thinner too.

  He reminded me of how Peyton looked the last time I saw him.

  “Why, if it isn’t my old friends, the Monroes.” He purred his words in a maniacal voice, twisting his fingers on the steering wheel. “What brings y’all to this side of the bridge? Someone take a wrong turn?”

  Brodie shrugged, hands dipped inside his wet jeans. “Nah, man. You made it clear at the train station the boundary lines are no longer in effect. We thought we’d visit Birchwood and see what we’ve been missing.”

  Breath bated, my heart lurched in my chest. Brodie’s casual stance and unaffected front wasn’t what I was expecting. But standing there staring at Drew’s darkened truck, I realized his face was the only one visible. Anyone could be inside, wielding any type of weapon. Suddenly, Brodie’s calm façade made perfect sense.

  “Speaking of the train station,” Drew said, “the last time I saw you, if I remember correctly, you thought you could whip my ass. Still think that? Is that why you’re acting friendly? Scared?” A dangerous edge controlled his voice, daring my cousin to say the wrong thing.

  Brodie leaned against the Jeep and gave him a casual smile. “Nah, man. That was just a misunderstanding. Too much beer, too much weed, and a misunderstanding. We’re cool.”

  Drew continued to gaze at Brodie in disbelief, but my cousin was nothing but a picture of innocence.

  Heated anger radiated off Josie in thick, torrid waves though she stood on the opposite side of the Jeep picking at her fingernails as though she didn’t have a care in the world. It was killing her to not speak her mind, but the fact was Drew was unstable and possibly wielding a weapon.

  I certainly didn’t desire a reenactment of t
he Levi Bridges incident.

  “So it doesn’t bother you that Rue and Josie are dating Tanner and Bryce Montgomery?” Drew asked, his smile twisted. “Or that Lucy is dating Chance Hayes?”

  Guilt flooded my system—guilt and shame. Mouth open with an explanation, I stepped forward and touched Brodie’s shoulder, but he shrugged me off, his hands no longer deep in his jeans. Left eye twitching, he searched my face, his own face spreading into a wave of crimson creeping from his throat to his forehead.

  He stalked forward, hands balled into fists and a face full of denial. “You’re a damn liar.”

  Drew gave a laugh full of venom. “Look at their faces. They’re scared shitless. You really didn’t know, did you? How’s it feel, being the last one to know when your own flesh and blood betrays y—”

  Brodie reached inside the vehicle and grabbed Drew’s shirt. A feminine scream resounded from inside the truck as Brodie slammed his fist into Drew’s jaw again and again before stepping back. Hands still balled into knots of knuckles and bleeding flesh, Brodie bounced on the balls of his feet. Face lethal, movements lithe, he awaited Drew with determination etched in his features.

  Drew stumbled from the truck, the passenger door opening as well. Shelby appeared in front of the vehicle, calling Drew’s name. She paid the rest of us little attention, her hands jerking and pulling on the hem of Drew’s shirt. His stance matched Brodie’s: elbows bent, fists poised, ready to attack. With no other passengers emerging from the vehicle, Brodie swung forward, his fist missing Drew’s jaw by a fraction of an inch. Drew ducked and sprang up with renewed vengeance, clipping Brodie’s jaw.

  Cussing and spitting, Brodie drew back his arm, preparing to counterstrike. But Shelby proved faster than the two of them by wedging herself between the brawling boys. Drew glared at the back of her head, a vein bulging and throbbing near his temple. Pale and diaphoretic, he clamped one hand on her shoulder and slung her aside as though she were a plastic, weightless pawn in our vicious game.

  Shelby tried to ease the force of her fall with her hands as she landed on the ground. She cried out, her palms skinned and bleeding, the sight of which caused the brawl between the boys to momentarily cease. Drew glared down at her, sweat dripping from his forehead and down his face. His nose was flat like the Mississippi Delta, and just as wide. Droplets of sweat beaded on the tip and fell to the concrete below. Shelby attempted to stand, but fell back on her ass and scooted away with terror-filled eyes. Drew lurked forward, hovering over her retreating frame.

  “Why do you do that, huh?” Drew screamed. “Why do you make me hurt you?”

  “What the—” Josie said. “That son of a—”

  Drew backhanded Shelby and kicked her in her ribs. She screamed, curling into a ball on the pavement.

  I rushed forward, unable to hold myself back any longer. Josie grabbed the waistband of my shorts, causing me to stumble. “He’s on the shit. You can’t touch him. He’s flying high and invincible.”

  Brodie threw another punch at Drew, knocking him to the ground. The boys scuffled, a mass of arms and legs like a wad of worms. Josie continued to hold me back, the two of us not anticipating what happened next.

  My sister shot past us in a streak of matted hair and mud-stained clothes. Bypassing the brawl, she opened the door of Drew’s truck and climbed inside, emerging moments later with what appeared to be a ballpoint pen. She stood near the boys, clasping both hands around the pen. Drew flipped Brodie onto his back and wrapped his hands around his neck, squeezing. Brodie’s eyes bulged from the compression, his face transforming into a brilliant red.

  “What is Lucy—” My words were broken off by my own gasp as my sister plunged the pen in the side of Drew’s neck.

  Drew howled and clambered to his feet. Blood surged around the pen protruding from his neck, reminding me of Levi. Brodie hopped up, wheezing and coughing, his hands massaging his throat. Drew swayed on his feet. The pen made a sickening sound as he pulled it away. Holding it in front of him, he stared at it in disbelief. The flow of blood stained his shirt in a constant dribble, but there was no spray, no gush, no major arteries inflicted.

  “Damn,” Lucy said, hands on hips and frowning. “I missed.”

  Drew tossed the pen aside and applied pressure to his wound, pointing at my sister with a blood-soaked hand. “You’re dead. You’ll be the first Monroe I kill. Then Brodie, then Rue, then your stupid, slutty cousin, Josie.”

  Josie turned up her nose and sniffed. “Hey, I represent that remark.”

  Drew, who found no humor in Josie’s comment, stumbled past my little sister. He climbed into the truck and turned the ignition.

  Brodie offered his hand to Shelby, and she took it. He hoisted her up from the ground with a gentle, caring ease, their fingers intertwined seconds after she was on her feet.

  Drew gunned the engine before peeling out of the parking lot in reverse, heavy metal music blaring from the speakers. Tail lights dimmed in the distance and he was gone, leaving us behind in a trail of exhaust. Silence encased us before Josie sighed, shaking her head.

  “Is it just me, or is anyone else stunned by the fact that Lucy just stabbed a meth head in the neck with a ballpoint pen?”

  Brodie shook his head and Josie cackled. He reached behind him, grasping his shirt and peeling it from his body. Shelby’s eyes widened at the sight of my shirtless cousin, the impenetrable girl I once met transforming into a shy schoolgirl with blushing cheeks and a busted lip.

  Brodie touched the shirt to her lip, dabbing the bloody split. “He’s done this before, hasn’t he? More than once?”

  Tears pricked her eyes and she looked away, staring at the forlorn trees swaying alongside the car wash. “He’s changed over the past few months. He hasn’t always been a monster.”

  “I’ll kill him for hitting a woman,” Brodie said.

  “You’ll be the one killed,” Shelby whispered. “We should get out of here. He’ll be back. You shouldn’t have goaded him. The only reason he didn’t have a gun on him is because he’s driving his mama’s truck. Drew always keeps a loaded gun in his glove box.”

  “Drew Kingsley is the least of my worries,” Brodie said. He slung his shirt on his shoulder and reached for the hem of Shelby’s blouse, lifting it above her belly button.

  Abdomen exposed, Shelby batted his hands and took a wide step back. “What are you doing?”

  “Making sure you don’t have any other injuries aside from the knot on your head.” Brodie frowned at her reluctance and the way she tugged down her blouse and covered her belly with her clasped hands. “No reason to be shy. They’ll want to give you a good once-over at the hospital.”

  “Hospital? I’m not going to the hospital.”

  “Oh yes you are. You may have some broken ribs. What if you’ve punctured a lung? You need some x-rays. You’re going to the hospital and we’re taking you.”

  “Just give me a phone and I’ll call my brother to pick me up.”

  “There’s no way we’re sitting on this road waiting on Drew to show up again,” Brodie argued. “Get in the Jeep. We’re going to the hospital.”

  “You can’t make me go.”

  “You sure about that?” Brodie grinned, the first authentic smile I’d seen since before Drew had pulled into the lot.

  “At least let me take you home,” I said. “Graham will talk some sense into you.”

  “You can’t tell Graham what happened,” she responded. “You can’t tell anyone what happened. Graham will flip and Drew will be as good as dead.”

  “I’m liking the idea of telling Graham better and better,” Josie said.

  Shelby raised an eyebrow but didn’t address my cousin. “Plus, you shouldn’t take me home. Tensions are high at the Montgomery house. Tanner told the rest of the family he was seeing you and … let’s just say they’re not too keen on the idea.”

  Crestfallen, I stared past her shoulder into the darkness. All my worries, all my fears confirmed, I shook my head, m
y heart in my throat.

  His extended family would never accept me, based on my last name alone. They knew nothing about me, cared nothing about the love I felt for Tanner.

  A monumental, exasperated sigh from Josie broke me from my tumultuous inner musings.

  “Get in the Jeep, bitch. You’re not in any shape to argue. Keep talking and I’ll thump you everywhere it hurts.”

  Shelby stared at Josie aghast.

  A clap of thunder and streak of lightning ripped across the sky. The mist dancing in the glow around Shelby’s blonde head transformed into a light shower. Her face hardened and she gave an unsure nod of her head.

  Shelby winced, gasping for air as Brodie helped her into the backseat of the Jeep. Josie sat beside her, raising a daring eyebrow. Shelby frowned then turned away from Josie. Brodie gingerly wedged his large frame between the two girls.

  “Lucy, call Chance.” I ignored Brodie’s heated stare from the backseat as I drove over the muddy road. “Tell him we’ve got Shelby and to meet us at the hospital.”

  “But don’t tell him about Drew,” Shelby whispered. “Please. I’ll tell him when the time is right, but not now. Maybe I can talk him into going to rehab or something, but if you tell the Montgomerys, there’s no chance for him to get better. Not if he’s dead.”

  Lucy nodded, shooting Brodie an unsure look before calling Chance and speaking quietly into the phone. She ended the call a couple minutes later. The Jeep was then filled with an awkward silence, other than the occasional wheezing and stifled sob from the blonde beauty in the backseat.

  “I’m sorry, Shelby,” I said, breaking the awkward silence. “My Jeep rides like a logging truck.”

  Shelby doubled over as I swerved around a deep pothole in the worn roads. “Don’t apologize for something out of your control.”

  “Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Brodie asked. “Is it true? Are y’all seeing the Montgomery boys?”

  Josie sighed, leaning back in the seat and rubbing her forehead in frustration. “Yes. We were planning on telling you everything tonight, before we had to save Ms. Priss, here.”