Dirty South Drug Wars

by Jae Hood

  Instead of responding, I walked away with an unsteady gait and eyes full of tears. I joined my family who stared at me in bewilderment as I smothered the smirk that threatened its way onto my face.

  Brodie filled Josie and Lucy in on the details Bryce had shared. Brodie and Josie jabbered about the events of the evening. Lucy was silent, except for the occasional murmurings about the violent storm pressing against us. My gloating died away, replaced with an overwhelming loneliness.

  How long can I live this lie, this faux breakup but very real departure? How long until we’re together again?

  Once home, I hid away in the warm confines of my bedroom, numbing the pain in the only way I knew how. I lit a blunt with quivering, rain-wrinkled fingers and took a deep drag of the heavenly, intoxicating substance. I fell against my bedroom wall, cussing as my sopping wet head hit the wood behind it.

  Closing my eyes, I let the weed take me away, infiltrating my body and making the world a slightly better place—a place where my father was still alive, my mother loved me, and Tanner never left my side. Maybe I was a coward, choosing momentary tranquility over the gut-wrenching hurt of the unknown. I found I no longer cared. Cowardliness meant nothing to a girl with a lonely heart.

  Chapter 20

  Time was a funny thing. Sometimes it rushed by like the stream that ran behind Nana’s house, cascading through the muck and rocks. Sometimes it drifted lazily like dust, silhouetted by the sunlight filtering through the trees. One thing that never changed was that it was always there, whether it sped by or crawled at a snail’s pace.

  I lay on my bed contemplating the time that had eased by since I’d last seen Tanner. August came, and with it came the reality of just how dismal my life had become since his departure. Aside from the heartache of momentarily losing my first boyfriend, our Social Security money never arrived and I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

  The hours I’d put in during the summer at Nana’s shop were gone. Now a part-time employee, I spent half my day attending school until just after lunch and the other half working a handful of hours at the shop in the evening. Bills continued to pile up and our ancient washing machine quit working, but worse than anything was the depression my sister had slipped into.

  Chance was gone. He’d left for college as planned. There were no farewells, no parting words. We’d only heard of his departure through word of mouth.

  I thought I handled the ruse of Tanner and my breakup with at least a sliver of dignity. My selfish need to live my life curled up in bed, waiting to pull back the curtain on our well-constructed act faded away with the season. I had never been the type of person to sit around feeling sorry for myself and felt no reason to be that person now. So, I picked myself up, literally and metaphorically, telling myself Tanner and I would be together again soon. I kept the faith.

  But Lucy and Josie were a different story.

  Josie chose anger, unlike the consuming depression Lucy suffered from. Josie was infuriated by the events of the night we found Shelby. She’d grown to spite Bryce, whom she claimed to have not heard from as well.

  As a form of retribution, she’d started dating a guy named Rusty, a transfer student from Birchwood, probably so Bryce would hear it through the grapevine. Although she went out on plenty of dates with Rusty, she had yet to mess around with him. Josie couldn’t fool me. She loved Bryce Montgomery, whether she chose to accept it or not.

  Sometimes I found myself watching my sister as she lay listless on the couch, or my cousin who’d sneak Jim Beam to school, drowning her sorrows in the bottom of a flask, and I’d wonder … did they try? Did they try to call Chance and Bryce? Did they reach out to them, begging for understanding?

  Because I didn’t.

  Sometimes I pretended troubles didn’t plague my life. Ignoring the destruction around me had worked thus far. I buried my sketches of Tanner under my mattress, tied the sketchbook together with a familiar, old ribbon, and pretended they didn’t exist. I tried everything within my power to not be reminded of what I was missing.

  With time came the thick, tension-filled aura of impending doom. It stifled our town like a foreboding, heavy fog. There was an approaching war between my relatives and the Montgomerys. I’d heard the whispers between my uncles from time to time on the nights we spent together enjoying an evening meal at Nana’s house. Tanner’s relatives were still in town and it had the Monroe men in a tizzy.

  Amos gave me a suspicious, hardened frown from time to time, but he must have been thrown off-kilter by the absence of the roaring fire that used to burn in my eyes. I hadn’t given up the hope of Tanner and me somehow finding our way to each other again, but the raging inferno was gone, only to be replaced by a small flicker of a flame. I had no one to talk to, no motherly figure listening while I spilled my guts. I’d considered discussing the situation with Nana, the only true motherly figure I’d ever known, apart from Melissa, but the idea was too weird, too icky to even consider.

  I told myself there was an underlying message in Tanner’s final words. Stay away from my family. Meeting the cold, hard eyes of Tanner’s relatives the night we carried Shelby to the emergency room was the turning point for me. I’d spent the last few months under the impression that Amos and Davis were the only people I should concern myself with. I’d been mistaken.

  The only time I felt protected from my enemies was when I held my father’s gun. But I couldn’t take Daddy’s piece of steel with me everywhere. The gun stayed tucked away in the glove box in my Jeep during classes. I worried Lucy would get her hands on it, but I’d come to another realization during my time away from Tanner. I couldn’t protect my sister from everything. To be honest, I was growing tired of even trying.

  And that thought terrified me.

  I didn’t see Tanner again until Homecoming night. I’d never forget the date—September seventeenth. That day would be forever ingrained in the deep recesses of my mind.

  I awoke that morning feeling a bit better than usual. Mayhaw was abuzz with anticipation for the impending game, the prospect of victory fresh on everyone’s mind. The townsfolk were brimming over with rowdy excitement for the opportunity to beat the Birchwood Badgers, ironically enough. I should have known that night would be a turning point of some sort. I guessed what they said was true: hindsight really was twenty-twenty.

  The football players were all decked out in their crisp white shirts, ties, and khaki pants. They wore their red and yellow jerseys over their dress clothes during the pep rally, unless they had a girlfriend somewhere in the crowd. If so, she had the privilege of flouncing around wearing her boyfriend’s jersey.

  I was a bit jealous of my classmates. How my life had changed in just a few short months. Not too long ago, I was much like them, carefree, living for the moment, my only concerns lying with my sister’s health.

  During the pep rally, I sat in the bleachers, ducking as rolls of toilet paper flew by me and chuckling as one hit the back of Brodie’s head. He rubbed it and scowled, turning to face the crowd sitting on the bleachers. Once he saw me he gave me a lopsided grin, which I returned.

  “He’s gonna kick Drew Kingsley’s ass tonight.” Josie’s stage whisper could barely be heard over the crowd.

  “What?”

  “Brodie. He’s gonna kick Drew’s ass at the game tonight,” Josie repeated. “And I’m not just talking about on the field either. After the game, Kingsley is a dead man.”

  Drew Kingsley. Brodie hadn’t mentioned Drew’s name since the night we took Shelby, battered and beaten, to the emergency room. Brodie had been eerily quiet since then, his thunderous emotions somehow held back. Would game night be the boiling point for my cousin? Would he no longer sit back so unassuming?

  “How do you know he’ll be there?” A nervous knot formed in my throat.

  “Oh, he’ll be there. Drew Kingsley never misses a game against Mayhaw.”

  That was what I was afraid of.

  *

  The town was pain
ted in our team colors. Red and yellow streamers, balloons, and signs covered the windows, doors, and light posts down Main Street. I sped through town feeling the first hint of something other than misery in weeks. Excitement, intrigue, and danger consumed me.

  Mia waited for me on her rickety front porch in front of her crappy little trailer. Decked out in her color guard gear, the red and yellow sequined outfit she wore glinted in the beams of a broken moon. Red glitter sparkled on her cheeks and eyes.

  “You look like some messed up version of a Bratz doll,” I said.

  “They make us wear heavy makeup on the field so we don’t look washed out. Where’s Lucy?”

  “Sitting at home feeling sorry for herself. She’s still in bed, where she’s been all day.”

  Filled with guilt for having barely shared any time with my best friend since the night at the train station, I’d filled Mia in on the events of the last few months. It was my fault, but I couldn’t regret the amount of time I’d spent with Tanner.

  I dropped Mia off at the football field, made my way up the bleachers, and plopped down next to Nana who had yet to miss any of her grandchildren’s events, whether it be Brodie and Peyton’s football games, my entries into the science fair, or Josie’s track and cheerleading competitions.

  Peyton, pale and sickly, walked onto the field near the growing group of fellow football players. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind he was on the hard stuff. Maybe meth or heroine. I wondered how much money my family was donating to the school to ensure he passed the required drug tests.

  They all made me sick.

  When the boys made their way onto the field, I tried to pay attention, but as usual my mind was a million miles away. Amos, Saul, Matt, and Alex—Peyton and Olivia’s father—were leaning on the chain link fence bordering the football field. They smiled and chatted with the group of onlookers who flocked them on each side. Peyton jogged to the bench on the opposite side of the fence. He sat on the sidelines, playing with a bottle of water, twisting it in his hands.

  Amos removed his phone from his pocket. My brow furrowed in curiosity and confusion as the color drained from his face. He pocketed the phone and replaced the slack-jawed expression with one of cool indifference. He said something to Matt who nodded, his eyes never leaving the field where Brodie scored the first touchdown of the night.

  Amos’ stare swept over the crowd in the bleachers below me. My gut told me to avert my gaze. I did and looked at the field with a forced smile on my face, feigning obliviousness. I counted to ten before looking back to where Amos stood, but he was gone. Amos had walked away, disappearing into the thick crowd. An odd sense of terror seized me, and I searched the crowd until I noticed his dark mop of auburn hair. He shouldered his way through, walking past the concession stand and vanishing into the dark parking lot nearby.

  My phone buzzed in my hands, causing me to let out a little yelp of shock. Nana raised an eyebrow at me. Shrugging, I gave her a sheepish smile. A strange sense of discomfort still lingered between the two of us, but we’d come to a wordless amicable amends of sorts. Neither one of us brought up the safe or my father’s death, avoiding the talk we so desperately needed to have.

  Nana shifted her attention back to the field. Half expecting to find a whiny text from my sister begging me to pick her up and bring her to the game, I was surprised to find a text from an unfamiliar number glowing back at me.

  You look beautiful tonight.

  Thanks. My boyfriend thinks so.

  You have a boyfriend? Should I be jealous?

  No. You should be scared. He’d totally kick your ass. Who is this?

  If you don’t know who it is how do you know your boyfriend could kick my ass?

  Because my boyfriend would kill for me.

  Is his name Tanner?

  I nearly dropped the phone as Tanner’s name popped up on the screen. No one stared at me, not that I could see, but I could feel it. I could sense it, someone watching me from afar. Amos’ vindictive face flashed through my mind, followed by Ray’s. Goose bumps erupted across my flesh, creeping over my skin, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up. The phone vibrated again, and my stomach twisted in nervousness as I read the words.

  Elementary school playground. Ten minutes. Be there. Tell no one.

  “I’m gonna grab a drink at the concession stand,” I told Nana. “You want anything?”

  Nana shook her head, and I left her in the stands, fighting with my rapidly thumping heart as I walked down the incline of the bleachers. I shot my uncles a casual smile and wave when I passed them, which they returned. The line in front of the concession stand was short. I paid for my Coke and dipped through the open gate, never looking back.

  It was strangely quiet outside the stadium. The only sounds were the distant cheers of the crowd and the disembodied echoes of the announcer. I stumbled across loose slag on the side of the road, tossing my unused Coke into a ditch. I shoved my hands in my jeans as I crept closer to the elementary school, my fingers twitching with the absence of my gun. I had half a mind to turn around and head to my Jeep to grab it, but therein lay the thought of bumping into Amos. Amos’ truck wasn’t parked where I’d seen it earlier, giving me a tremendous sense of relief. Still, I trudged forward, unarmed.

  My feet hit the dew-soaked grass of a small football practice field. I disappeared around the corner of the elementary building, halting as I saw the play area ahead.

  A child’s playground seemed like a terrifying thing at night. The merry-go-round trembled against the stiff breeze and the swings creaked and rocked as though ghost-children pressed their feet against the worn red dirt below. All else was silent and still aside from the shift of a dark figure perched on a nearby picnic table.

  I stomped across the playground until I stood between his slightly parted legs and playfully nudged his arm. “Come here to finish me off? What, breaking my heart wasn’t enough?”

  Tanner slid from the table, brushing his body fully against mine. I took a step back, but he caught my arm, pressing me against him.

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I opened my mouth, wanting to keep giving him a hard time, but it was too late. We’d been apart for far too long. He captured my mouth with his, tasting of weed and mint gum, a strangely hypnotizing combination. I moaned, melting into him.

  His hands traveled up my sides, tangling in my hair as he forced my face closer to his. Our kiss was rough and needy. His tongue danced with mine, our teeth clashing together at times. I bit his lip, angry for the way he made me feel. The taste of blood touched my tongue, and I untangled myself from his arms. The tip of his finger touched his lip then he withdrew his hand, staring at the crimson stain in the moonlight.

  “I hate you,” I whispered.

  “You don’t.”

  “I want to.”

  Tanner chuckled and smirked. “You could never.”

  “Don’t push your luck.”

  He laughed and took my hands. “They bought it, you know?”

  I nodded, the flicker of promise burning bright in the depths of my despair. “I’d hoped.”

  “Let’s run away together.” His voice was a whisper, a quiet plea. “Let’s run away and leave everything behind, never looking back.”

  “A romantic concept,” I said. “Romantic and glorious, divine, and … bad. It’s just a bad idea.”

  Half expecting him to chuckle at my pitiful excuse of a joke, I was disappointed by his worried frown.

  “Did you start to believe the lie?” he asked. “Did you lose faith in me?”

  “No, but I still kinda wanna break your face. You coulda snuck in a call or a text.”

  “Too dangerous,” he said, squeezing my hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. This playground is freaking me out.”

  *

  Tanner and I snuck through the darkness, pressing ourselves between the rows of parked cars. I was surprised to find his Mustang tucked among other vehicles, but I shouldn’t have been shocked
. We were alike, yet so different from one another in so many ways. I was in a constant worry, and he was laid-back and relaxed. We slid into the car and shot out of town into the dark night.

  “Bryce told me everything about Davis and Ray,” I said. “Where are they now?”

  Tanner frowned. “Ray left town. Went back home to Alabama last night, which deepens Graham’s belief that he’s doing business with Amos.”

  “If Graham is correct, and Ray is working with Amos, Amos must know we were seeing each other at some point.” I sighed, inflicted with a whole new worry. “And Davis? What happened to him?”

  Tanner shot me a sideways grin, his teeth flashing in the moonlight spilling through his open window. “Oh, he’s tied up.”

  “Tied up as in busy?”

  He laughed, the menacing sound creeping into the air. “No, tied up as in the very literal sense. As in tied up in our basement as we speak. And Graham isn’t showing him an ounce of mercy.”

  I said nothing in return, trying to comprehend the truth of his words. I struggled to imagine the horrors of that basement and the things Graham was possibly doing to torture Davis. I found no pity inside my heart, at least not for Davis. Bryce was the one I felt sympathy toward. Tanner once told me Bryce’s mom split not long after his birth. Now his dad was teetering on the brink of death. Growing up without one parent was one thing, but without two was quite another.

  “Josie said Drew would be at the game tonight,” I said, “which means he’s still alive. I’m assuming that’s because everyone is still in denial about what really happened to Shelby.”

  Tanner flexed his fingers, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Drew isn’t at the game. He hasn’t played ball all season. Couldn’t pass a piss test if he tried. And no one is in denial. Shelby told us Drew’d been abusive to her. She also claims Drew confessed he’s secretly working with Amos, selling meth.”

  “And Graham doesn’t care?”

  Tanner frowned, eyebrows bunched together. “Of course Graham cares. Shelby is like a daughter to him. Why do you think he doesn’t care?”