Dirty South Drug Wars

by Jae Hood

  “This fire, this is no coincidence,” I whispered.

  Moving unresponsive people from one location to the next is his specialty.

  A smile quirked on my mouth. Tanner continued to speak, his hands cupped on my face, but my ears still weren’t working. I covered his hands with my own and turned my head, kissing each of his palms.

  “This is the distraction,” I said. “This is Graham’s distraction. I knew you’d save Lucy. I knew you’d take care of me. You always take care of me. The only one. You’re the only one who takes care of me.”

  Tanner’s mouth no longer moved. Lips parted, he stared at me for so long I wondered how it was he didn’t blink. I cupped my hand behind his neck, bringing his face to mine, kissing his unresponsive mouth. Muscle flexed beneath my hand as he tried to back away, but I held firm, kissing and kissing until his lips moved with mine and everything felt right again. Life felt right again.

  *

  The day after the fire in the hospital, Tanner escorted me back to my house to gather my belongings. We strolled up the driveway, but I froze near the front door, my feet planted firmly on the ground. Had the house been cleaned after Lucy’s overdose? It terrified me to see the inside in the same state of disarray. The image of Lucy’s long hair hacked off in uneven strands, trailing up the stairs, sent icy shivers down my spine.

  Tanner cupped my face, tilting my head back. “Stay in my car and wait for me. I’ll go in and pack your stuff. Okay? You don’t have to be brave every second of every day, Rue. Even the strongest person has moments of weakness. Let me take care of you. It’s my job now. I want nothing more than to take care of you for the rest of our lives.”

  With a numb nod, I stumbled back to the car. I slipped inside, and he disappeared into the house with a stack of boxes. He returned several minutes later with the first large cardboard box. I helped him load my meager belongings into his car, disheartened that all the things I owned in the world fit into a single vehicle in four wrinkled, fraying boxes.

  Melissa met us in the foyer and helped us carry the boxes upstairs. I halted near Tanner’s bedroom door as Melissa slipped inside. Her head popped out moments later.

  “Well, don’t just stand there. Come on in.”

  “You want me to stay in Tanner’s bedroom?” I asked. “This isn’t some sort of secret mother-type test you’re pulling on me?”

  Melissa snickered. “I’m old, but I’m not stupid. You’re honestly telling me you and Tanner won’t be sneaking into each other’s rooms? Can the two of you stay away from each other every night?”

  Tanner spoke up before I had a chance to even process her words. “Hell no.” He grabbed my hand and guided me into his bedroom.

  Melissa laughed. “Just as I suspected. Put your things in Tanner’s room and wash up. Supper will be ready in an hour.”

  Shaking her head with amusement, Melissa dumped the box onto Tanner’s bed and exited the room.

  Melissa was right of course. We spent that first night doing nothing but kissing, touching and exploring—learning from one another and teaching each other what we each so desperately desired. It was a distraction from the previous days, a way to escape the emotions we refused to face by drowning ourselves in one another.

  *

  Three days had passed since the fire, three days of living with Tanner. Still I awoke groggy and disoriented. My eyes fluttered open, confused by the very different surroundings from what I typically awoke to.

  The sheet and comforter on the bed were cozier and an entirely different color. The soft morning light wafted through a window on the wrong side of the room, warming my left leg instead of my right. The ceiling I stared up at was stark white, bare, without even a hint of cheap plastic stars with their dim, early-morning glow.

  My heart sped up when the bed shifted. A muffled groan came from under the billowing sheets beside me. It was a very familiar, very sexy groan, and it sent my heart into overdrive. I reached beside me, pulled the cottony sheet from the top of the long, disheveled mass, and peered at Tanner.

  His face brightened and he grinned, a lazy, lopsided grin. Butterflies flitted around in the pit of my stomach as his fingers crept beneath the sheet. The pads of his slightly roughened hands drifted over the bare flesh of my belly.

  “Morning,” he whispered, his voice laced with sleep. “Mmm … I could get used to this.”

  I teased him with an innocent smile. “Used to what?”

  “I could get used to waking up beside you every day,” he replied. “Forever.”

  “Forever sounds so serious. Like a lifetime commitment.”

  Tanner’s fingers stilled over my belly. He turned on his side and propped his elbow on the bed. “Something wrong with a lifetime commitment?”

  “What? No, I just …” I sighed. “I was just kidding around.”

  “I’m not kidding around.” He touched my bottom lip, brushing the pad of his thumb across the swell. “I’m gonna marry you one day.”

  “So I’ve heard. Since you were twelve.” I laughed, and it sounded forced. Truthfully, my chest felt as if it were wound tight, bunched and ready to burst at the seams. “Forever is a long time to put up with someone.”

  “Is that what you think marriage is like? Putting up with someone?”

  I nudged him in the ribs, attempting to dissipate the weird tension in the room. “Nah, I’m just …”

  “Deflecting?”

  “Yeah, but only because marriage talk is weird. We’re kids.”

  “We’re adults.” Tanner kissed me, morning breath be damned. “Does this mean you won’t marry me?”

  “Are you asking? Because if so, this is a shitty way to propose,” I said against his lips. “Where’s my ring?”

  “When did my girl become so vain?”

  With a quirk of my eyebrow, I struggled to hide my grin. “When her boy didn’t produce an engagement ring.”

  Tanner smiled, his breath warm on my face. He peppered kisses along my jaw, finding the tender place behind my ear. Tongue hot on my neck, he tasted my skin, those fingers of his pressing on my belly once again. I closed my eyes, surrendering to a dark place he evoked, the only dark place I sought out.

  “You sure you don’t wanna marry me?” he asked.

  “Are you asking?” Eyelids fluttering, my hips rose against my will, his fingers traveling their same decadent path.

  “Nah, just want to be prepared for the potential crash and burn when I do.”

  Three loud knocks on the door startled us apart.

  Tanner grumbled and tossed the covers aside. Sleep pants riding low, exposing the deep contours of his abdomen, he stalked across the bedroom and threw open the door. Melissa stood in the hallway, shooting me a look of concern.

  “Just checking on you kids. Rue, are you okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m fine.”

  She blew out a heavy breath. “I’m always here for you, sweetie. If you need someone to talk to—”

  “Melissa,” Tanner said. “She’s fine. We’ll be downstairs in a few.”

  Melissa nodded, still standing in the hallway chewing on her bottom lip when Tanner closed the door. He climbed back on the bed, slow, deliberate movements, like a panther stalking his prey. I hit him with a pillow and he smirked, unscathed. He settled between my legs, his mouth returning to the crook of my neck.

  “Let’s stay like this for the rest of the day,” he said.

  “Melissa will send a search party if we don’t come downstairs soon.” I bit my lip, a sense of discomfort clouding my brain. “Why is she acting so strange? Asking if I’m okay?”

  Tanner’s body went rigid, only relaxing under the idle scratch of my nails on his back. “You don’t remember.”

  “Remember what?”

  Tanner sighed, his expelled breath warming my bones, warming me in other places. My nails dug deeper into his flesh, but instead of sating my aching need, he rolled to the side. He toyed with a tendril of my hair, twisting the ringlet around
the tip of his finger, releasing it, and twisting again.

  I elbowed his ribs. “Remember what?”

  “Nothing.” He avoided my probing gaze. “Just, Melissa’s a worrier. She’s making sure you’re comfortable here. That’s all.”

  I chuckled. “Anywhere would be more comfortable than my house.”

  “That’s an understatement.” Tanner yawned and stretched. “Want first dibs on the shower? I gotta take the trash out before breakfast or Graham’ll kick my ass. I’ve been slacking on my chores the past couple of days. Been kinda distracted.” The sheet shifted with the tug of his hand, exposing my nearly naked body.

  I batted his hand away, snickering. “Drug dealers have chores?”

  Tanner rolled his eyes, grumbling below his breath. Bare feet padding across the floor, he left the room. The bed felt cold without him, so I jumped in the shower.

  When I returned to the room, I found Shelby sitting on the bed waiting for me with a pair of black heels on her lap. A black dress lay by her side.

  “Bad time to talk, I guess?” she asked.

  Sighing, I wrapped the towel tighter around my body. “What’s there to talk about?”

  Sadness infiltrated her face, slumping her shoulders, lingering in her solemn stare. “What’s wrong with you, Rue?”

  I threw up my hands, only to return them to the loosening edge of the towel tucked between my breasts. “What’s wrong with me? What is wrong with y’all? Why is everyone acting so freaking weird?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “Get dressed and I’ll come back and fix your face, okay?”

  Without another word, she left the room long enough for me to slip on the dress and mull over the oddities of the day. Shelby knocked on the door a few minutes later and I murmured for her to come in. She regarded me with a soft, understanding expression on her face.

  I sat on the edge of Tanner’s bed while she pulled up a chair, silently painting my face with makeup from a large, bulging bag. She took her time, combing and curling my hair, making me pretty for my sister.

  The bedroom door opened. Tanner gave me a small smile as he entered the room, pulling me into his arms. My lips trembled. I was terrified to drop the mask that I hoped, that I prayed, would stay intact that day, and for the rest of the days to follow.

  “You can do this,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You’re still the strong, courageous Rue I fell in love with. You can do this.”

  I laughed off his concern and nodded. Tanner dropped his arms, intertwining his fingers through mine. He led me from the room with Shelby falling in place behind. We met Graham and Melissa at the foot of the stairs, looking like two models in their Sunday best.

  The five of us loaded into Graham’s car and pulled from his driveway down the winding country road. We left Birchwood in our mourning clothes and headed to Mayhaw, to the same place where Tanner and I first met.

  Chapter 23

  The funeral home hadn’t changed much in the years since they buried my father. The building was large and a sorrowful gray color with thick, white columns near the front. White, wooden rockers sat on each side of the door making an attempt to give the building a more simplistic, country feel. It didn’t work. The building stood out like a sore thumb, especially with the Mayhaw Dollar Store as a backdrop, which was the only new addition to the overall scenery.

  The parking lot was tiny—so tiny, in fact, that people parked on each side of the road and filled the entire Dollar Store parking lot. If my sister were there, Lord, she’d have been excited to see so many people milling around in their Sunday best, hoping to catch one last glimpse of the latest fallen Monroe.

  Graham parked the car across the street from the funeral home, and the lot of us filed out.

  “You nervous?” I asked Tanner.

  “Nervous? No, why?”

  “Mingling with sworn enemies.” I gestured at the funeral home.

  Tanner smirked. “Never.”

  None of the Montgomerys appeared nervous. They held an air of cool indifference about them, with their heads held high and gentle smiles on their faces. Tanner grasped my sweaty hand in his and I peered up at him.

  “Everything is gonna be okay,” he said, guiding me across the street. “Ignore the stares and whispers. You’re not here because of them. You’re here for Lucy’s sake.”

  I nodded numbly. My chest was wound up tight, constricted, as though some demon force had a vise grip on it.

  Various family members stood around conversing with small groups of people in hushed tones. A mixture of emotions played on their features as we approached.

  The angry stares were more vengeful than they’d been the day before when I’d sat in the funeral home greeting visitors, family and friends alike. The Montgomerys had not graced Mayhaw with their presence yesterday at my request. I’d spent the day playing the part of the mournful older sister, smiling and dabbing my eyes with a tissue as people murmured their condolences. I did it for Lucy, to pay respect to my sister, but this day was mine. It belonged to me. The shock, the anger, and the betrayal—I craved it, but only from one person.

  Amos.

  I didn’t simply want him to hate me; I needed him to hate me. The gloves were off. By bringing the Montgomerys to my sister’s funeral, it was as though I was beckoning him to me, daring him to cross the same line with me as he’d crossed with Lucy.

  It was time for Amos to pay for the pain and suffering he’d inflicted on my family and me our entire lives. It was time for him to pay for his sins and meet his maker. It was time for Amos to die.

  I held my head high as I passed neighbors and family members from out of town. A tall man wearing a smart gray suit held the door open for me. The man was none other than Detective Holloway, who continued to nose around in my family’s business. I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to shake him for a while, so I decided to simply ignore him, refusing to give him the acknowledgment he so desperately desired.

  Tanner gave Detective Holloway a curt nod. “I loathe him.”

  “You still think he’s got the hots for me?”

  Tanner scowled and held my hand tighter. He had a silly notion that Holloway had some sort of sick fascination with me, and the Monroe family in general. His theory was crazy. There was nothing to indicate Holloway viewed me as anything more than a Monroe, a child of the murdered man whose case Holloway’s own father could never solve.

  We entered the lobby, melting into the crowd of people gathered there. Their light whispers and chuckles faded away as our appearance became noticeable. Then the whispers returned tenfold, the quiet murmurings of curious townsfolk who had nothing better to do with their lives than spend it talking about others.

  I stood behind Shelby, Graham, and Melissa, with Tanner by my side, as they took turns signing their name in the guest book. Tanner took his turn as well, and the four of us entered the sanctuary. There was a line from the lobby all the way through the middle aisle of the sanctuary, leading to the shiny white casket facing the rows of wooden pews. The smell of carnations assaulted my senses, drifting around me, pricking my memory and reminding me of past funerals and death.

  A few brave individuals spoke to Graham and Melissa as we passed; they were businessmen who knew Graham through the factory he owned and operated. I was sure if Amos were nearby, they wouldn’t have ventured to speak to Graham and Melissa. But Amos was nowhere near us. He was in front of Lucy’s casket, along with my other family members, greeting the visitors with a smile on his face. He shook their hands and received their well-wishes.

  There was a soft smile on his weathered face, a face so closely resembling my father’s, and I hated Amos for it. I hated him for playing the role of grieving uncle. I hated him for the strong resemblance he held to my father, but most of all I hated him for sending Drew to my house to murder my sister.

  I grasped Tanner’s hand tightly before sliding my arm through his, and he escorted me toward the front of the funeral home
. We breezed around the throngs of people waiting to hug or shake the hands of my various family members.

  The faces of my aunts and uncles all darkened as Tanner and I approached. I gave them a simple little smile, nodded my head, and took a quick left turn. In the front pew sat Christine and my grandmother, at opposite ends from one another. I ignored Christine and fell into place near Nana, who struggled, and failed, to keep her tears at bay.

  “Nana,” I whispered, touching her hand.

  Unlike everyone else I’d encountered, Nana barely acknowledged my presence for a moment. She was too caught up in her own twisted emotions, mourning the loss of one of her young grandchildren. After several seconds, Nana’s eyes locked on mine. She stared at me as though seeing me for the first time, searching my face for heartache or discomfort.

  “Oh, dear Lord. Rue. Come here, baby.”

  Nana reached out and grasped my hand. Her wrinkled fingers were cold and clammy, but I paid them little attention. I leaned into her, showing my grandmother the affection we Monroes typically kept bottled up. I wished nothing more than to absorb her grief and guilt and reassure her everything was okay, but I couldn’t. The truth hurt, and the cold, hard truth was that Lucy was gone, and Nana thought she would never see her again.

  “Everything’s okay, Nana.” I tried to convey with my words what my mind refused to say, the secret I kept bottled up inside. “You’ll see Lucy again one day. I promise.”

  “But not on this Earth,” she said. “Nevermore.”

  “Lucy wouldn’t want you to cry. She’d want you to remove those horrible flowers from the childish white coffin, but she wouldn’t want you to cry.” I smiled, trying to lighten my grandmother’s mood.

  The white casket with shiny silver handles was completely un-Lucy-like. Lucy was vivid colors, bursting with life. She was reds, yellows, and blues splashed across a white canvas. Lucy’s favorite flowers were colorful Gerbera daisies, not the carnation mixture Christine had picked out. The music playing in the background was slow and morose. My sister was upbeat, fun, and silly. Sure, she was always getting into trouble and had her quirks, but she was beautiful nonetheless. Lucy deserved more posthumously than a cheap, stinky spray of flowers and depressing funeral parlor music.