Sweet Southern Secrets (Georgia Peaches Book 1)

by Colbie Kay

  “Cydney, why wouldn’t he show up? All these years, he’s stayed in the same area, being the boil on the ass of humanity,” Cayden says as we reach the Jeep. Callie can’t do anything but laugh—it’s her defense mechanism—and all I do is smirk.

  “I don’t even care about the fireworks and dance anymore. That was enough excitement for me; let’s just go home and get ready for everyone to show up. Y’all, I can’t believe this is the last bonfire before college,” Callie says from the backseat.

  “Me either,” Cayden and I both respond.

  It was a quiet ride home, and then we went about our business, making sure the DJ was ready to go, food was prepped, drinks set up, and the fireworks set in position for later.

  We’re going to close out this weekend with a bang!

  People started arriving about an hour ago and I look around, realizing just how many enjoy their time here on the farm. “Cal, damn, there are more people here than last night. Let’s recruit some of the guys to help us keep an eye on everyone. There’s no way we’ll be able to do it on our own. Do we have enough tents set up in case someone needs one?” Everyone usually brings their own, but I like to be prepared in case someone needs somewhere to sleep.

  “Yes, Cyd, we have plenty of tents, and no one will be going anywhere tonight. I’ll go ask Brody and some of the others to help watch everyone,” Cayden reassures, reinforcing that everything will be taken care of, and it lets me release the breath I was holding.

  So far, there’s been no sight of our father, and it has me stressed. I hope he doesn’t show up here, trying to ruin the celebration. He would do something like that, though, the drunken bastard. We will just have to stay on our toes, keep our eyes peeled, and thank God that Momma is working.

  The night is alive with friends, family, food, and fireworks. As I head into the house for a moment to myself, I stop dead in my tracks on the porch. The despicable man himself is standing at the door under the porchlight. Getting a good look, I notice he’s aged since the last time I saw him, and not gracefully.

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Ted? Why show up now after all these years?” I ask, disgust ringing out sharp and clear in my voice.

  “Oh, come on now, I’m Daddy, remember? Which one are you, again? Anyhoo, I can see my daughters anytime I damn well feel like it.” He staggers towards me, and I take a few steps back.

  He’s drunker than I remember he used to be. It’s in his eyes, speech, posture, and the way he stumbles as he walks. My heart starts to race and my blood starts to boil. I don’t know what his plan is, but Momma says when it comes to Ted, it never ends well. If there is one thing she taught us about this man, it’s that, when the rage starts, there is no getting away. She instilled it in our brains since he left that we must stay away from our father at all costs.

  “I don’t have to call you my father—you lost that privilege a long time ago. You, TED, are nothing but scum. No, better yet, you are the horseshit that people try to wipe off their boots. You have no right to be here, or to be called father by any of us. You need to leave!” I scream the last part.

  Ted’s head snaps back with a rage roaring in his bloodshot eyes. Oh shit, there it is the rage that I remember seeing too many times for any little girl. Only, it’s not directed at Momma. It’s all for me, because my mouth can get me in trouble. With a speed I didn’t think he would have, Ted’s hand reaches out, grabbing a hold of my arm.

  He’s in my face with his filthy alcohol breath, too close for comfort. “You little bitch! You will not talk to me in that tone! Do I need to show you respect like I did your mother?”

  Once he’s done speaking, I brace for what I know will be next, but not before I get my last few words out of my mouth. “Like hell I will! You fucking piece of shit!”

  I hear Cayden screaming my name just as Ted’s palm lands hard across my cheek. Son of a bitch, that hurt! I will not give him the satisfaction of one single tear, though. This fucking bastard has done enough damage already, and I’m tired of living in fear of him. He gets another blow in, and another, and another. I will not give up!

  Damn it, it’s time for me to stand and fight like our momma couldn’t. It’s time to take advantage of his drunken stupor and put him down. I do the one thing that I know will bring a man to his knees. That’s right; I fight back by taking my knee to the bastard’s balls. As he drops to the ground, I bend down, punching, kicking, clawing, and scratching as screams rip from my throat. Cayden pulls me away as my own emotions of anger and rage begin to surface. To hell with this man that has hurt us so badly!

  Tears cascade down my cheeks as I continue screaming. “Cydney. Cydney, are you ok?” my sister yells, directly in my face. “Take a breath, babe. He’s down, and the guys are carting him off,” Cayden informs me as she checks the swelling I can already feel. She grabs me in a tight hug, calming me down by running her hand up and down my back and telling me it’s okay.

  As I look at my sister, all I can think is, Never again. No man will ever lay a threatening hand on me or my sisters—I will kill before I let that happen. My face fucking hurts, and my head is pounding. “Where’s Callie?”

  “I don’t know, that’s why I came looking for you. She took off with Roger and has been gone for a while.” Cayden looks worried.

  “Roger?” I question, before asking, “Why would she take off with him?”

  “We were dancing and he came over, asking her to take a walk so they could talk.”

  “Okay, let’s walk around and see if anyone has seen her.” We take off in separate directions, searching for our missing sister.

  Dancing around and around with Cayden has me forgetting all about the future in this moment. The alcohol swims in my head, and I laugh at how ridiculous we look, but I couldn’t care less. Feeling a tap on my shoulder, I spin around and stop at the sight of Roger.

  Roger was a boy that I tutored this past year, but we never hung out outside of school, so I’m a little curious as to why he would be coming over here, tapping me on the shoulder. “Hey, Roger.” I give him a kind smile.

  “Hey, Callie. Will you take a walk with me? I wanted to talk to you about something.” He returns the smile.

  “Yeah, I’ll walk with you.” I turn back around and tell Cayden that I’m going to go with him. She gives me a nod before dancing away from us.

  We walk to the edge of the woods before I stop and ask, “What did you want to talk about?”

  “Come on, just a little further and we can sit,” he responds, still with the smile on his face. In my drunken state I don’t think anything about it, so I continue to follow him.

  He grabs my hand, leading me into the dark trees, away from everyone. I don’t know how long we walk or how far in we are before I start feeling funny about our isolation. “I think this is far enough.”

  “Just a little farther, I promise.” I can’t see much of anything. I’m starting to get a little scared.

  “No! This is far enough. Just tell me what you wanted to talk about.” My heart starts to beat faster as my pulse races.

  “I wanted to tell you how thankful I am that you helped me pass History.” I can’t make out his face in the dark.

  “You’re welcome, but I think I’m gonna go back to the party now.” I try pulling my hand free of his, but Roger’s grip tightens.

  “You’re not going anywhere yet. I wanted to show you just how much I appreciate all the tutoring.” I hear an edge to his tone that I don’t like.

  “No, that’s okay; you don’t need to show me anything. I want to go back now. Let go of my hand!” My body starts to shake.

  “I said you aren’t going anywhere.” I don’t even see it coming when his fist connects with my cheek.

  I go down to the ground and try getting up, but he is on top of me. I fight and flail against Roger, but he’s too
strong. I scream, hoping someone will help me, but the booming from the fireworks drowns out all hope.

  Roger’s hands tug at my panties, trying to get them off after he hikes my dress up around my waist. I kick around and throw punches at him, but nothing is working. Tears have started falling from my eyes and I can’t believe this is happening.

  One side of my panties is torn and he is working on the other side. “Shut up!” he yells before backhanding me a couple more times. It’s hard and hurts; my vision blurs and I can taste the coppery flavor of blood from where he split my lip. My mind starts to shut down; there’s absolutely nothing I can do—he’s going to rape me.

  All of a sudden Roger is ripped off of me; he flies backwards and the tall, broad figure neither of us noticed before says, “Go now!” in a deep voice. I can’t see who it is or what he looks like, but I waste no time. Jumping up, I run. I run as fast as I can, trying to make my way through the trees. The fireworks give me some light, but I fall a few times until I get to the clearing.

  I run to the back door, fling it open, and run up the stairs to the bathroom. I turn on the hot water, making it as hot as I can. I don’t even worry about taking off my boots or my clothes; I just fall to the shower floor, letting the water scald my skin. I feel dirty, so fucking dirty as I scrub and scrub, trying to get the feel of Roger off of me. I don’t know how long I stay in the shower, but the water turns cold by the time my sisters find me.

  They help me out and I tell them what happened. We call the cops, and when they arrive we inform them of all that took place with our father and Roger. We didn’t get in trouble for the underage drinking because of what transpired, but if it would have been any other time, I’m sure we would have. The police found our father passed out in his car, and Roger was lying unconscious at the perimeter of the woods, beaten and bloody. They were both arrested on assault charges, and Roger got an additional attempted rape charge.

  My sisters and I stayed in the house for the rest of the night, not wanting to be around anyone. We held each other, giving comfort and support. I realized in that moment that no matter where we are or what we become, we will always be there for one another, and that sisterly bond can never be broken.

  After the Fourth of July celebration weekend, we were well on our way to healing and starting to feel freer and back to normal. The summer flew by in no time, and, before we knew it, we were packing up all our stuff into a U-Haul, ready to leave for college. We will be leaving first thing in the morning; that will give us a week before classes start.

  One last night in the place we call home. We know we will be back every once in a while, but we’re closing out a big chapter in our lives and moving forward with our futures. It’s bittersweet to think about.

  We walk into the kitchen, where Momma is getting dinner ready. When she realizes we’ve entered, she starts the “be safe” speech. “Now, girls, listen to me. I want you to have fun, but you are there to learn, don’t forget that. Please promise me you will be safe. Be careful in all that you do.” She points her spatula at the three of us. “I’m not stupid—I know that none of you are virgins anymore. So… if you are going to be having sex, I hope I have taught you all well enough that you make him wrap it up. I am too young to become a grandma.” Momma turns back around to the food on the stove, leaving all three of us standing there with our mouths on the floor, just looking at her, dumbfounded. She keeps on talking. “You think I don’t know these things? Mommas know everything, and I was young once. Did I ever tell you about the time…”

  “Momma!” we all say in unison, stopping her because we do not want to hear the story she was about to tell us.

  After dinner, the four of us spend the night talking, pigging out on junk food, and laughing with Momma until it’s time to sleep.

  The next morning, we say our tearful goodbyes to Momma. We jump into our Jeep and head for the highway to start this new adventure in our lives. What lies ahead, we don’t know, but the future feels good and as bright as we want to make it. University of Georgia, here come the Peaches! I hope you know what you’re getting into with the three of us, because we will be taking college by storm. There is only one way to do it, and that is the Georgia Peach style.

  Saving Dawson

  Chapter One

  Dawson

  As I sit in one of the four chairs opposite of Jacey Rhodes desk, I get angrier by the second. “Why the fuck do we have to get a manager? We’ve been on our own, doing everything ourselves, and we have been just fucking fine. Why do we need to bring someone else in?”

  “Chill the fuck out, dude. This is the break we’ve been waiting for, and if we need to find a manager, we will. Stop being an asshole about it,” Colton says to me from his seat next to Elijah. I may be acting like a petulant child right now, but I couldn’t care less. I don’t want a new fucking manager, not after Grace.

  “Dawson, I realize you four have done this on your own, but you can’t anymore. When you sign this contract with me, it’s only forward from here and you won’t have time for everything that will need to get done. All of the paperwork, promoting, social media, and booking your tours, do you really think you could handle all of that? Because the truth of it is you won’t have time, not when you are in there recording your first album. You guys need someone to take care of you while you four focus on your music and making sure the crowds love you. I believe in you guys and I only want what’s best for you,” Jacey tells me from her side of the desk with a smirk on her face.

  Still being defiant but knowing she’s right, I cross my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes. “Fine, we’ll get a manager.”

  “Great. I have some people in mind so I’ll set you up with interviews that you can have here down in the studio.” With a clap of her hands and exaggerated sighs from the guys, we move on to the rest of this meeting. “You will need to get in the studio as soon as possible and start recording. If all goes well, I see you on tour in about six months. Does that sound good? Also, here is my offer for a sign on bonus and I’ll cover your tour bus when the time comes.” Jacey slides a folded piece of paper across the desk.

  Rico is the first to grab it. “Holy shit! Are you for real? That’s a lot of fucking money, plus six months before touring? Hell yeah that sounds good!” The rest of us look at the number and I swallow hard. This can’t be right!

  Her laugh rings out in the now quiet office. “I don’t joke about money. Ever. I will make my money back because you guys are something special. I know it and everyone else will too. When that contract gets signed, we become a family and I’ll be here if you need anything. I’m not like the other labels out there, okay? Most of them are money hungry dicks that only look out for themselves, but that’s not me.”

  We’re all still speechless from her offer so we just nod. “Okay guys, be here Friday at eight in the morning to start your interviews. Remember, the person you choose will be on tour with you and you’ll be working closely with the person. So...choose wisely.” I’m not sure I like the smile playing on her lips, but giving one last nod, we get up out of our chairs then leave Jacey’s office.

  The four of us climb into Colton’s Camaro that Grady and Sarah had bought him when he was sixteen. After the car is started and we’re heading down the street, Rico is the first to speak. “What do you guys think?”

  “I think we’re gonna be fucking rockstars and have so much pussy laying at our feet, we won’t know what to do.” Waggling his eyebrows and a goofy grin, Elijah answers first with his ridiculous thoughts.

  “I’m pissed about having to get a manager, but Jacey seems like the real deal.” I give my two cents. I can’t help but to bring up the manager bullshit again. It may have been four years since the Grace catastrophe, but I’ve held that shit in like it was yesterday.

  “You gotta let that shit go, Dawson. We all know how fucked up it was and we all thought of G
race like a sister, so it wasn’t just you that she hurt. She may have hurt you the worst, but it affected all of us. Now you need to focus on what is best for the band and let the past stay in the past. Move the fuck on, dude.” Colton gives his input on the situation, keeping his eyes on the road, but glancing at me every so often in the rearview mirror. I look around the car at Rico and Elijah to see their heads down. They agree with him. I slink back into the seat even more, huffing out a breath. I know the band comes first to Colton, so it’s not surprising that he would be the one to speak his opinion before the others.

  “You’re right, I’m sorry guys.” I mutter my apology. They don’t get it. She might have been like a sister to them, but she was supposed to be my forever. I thought she was the love of my life and she was supposed to always be there. Instead, being our manager, she put us on tour and I came home early to find her in our bed with another dude’s dick inside of her.

  “Well I think Jacey’s legit so let’s get that new manager. All in favor of signing with J.R. Recordings, raise your motherfucking hand!” Rico chimes in, breaking the growing tension and making us all laugh. Then one by one we all raise our hands. So it’s settled, we are going to be motherfucking rockstars! We have worked our asses off the last eight years for this moment.

  We yell, holler, and laugh as we pull into the driveway leading up to our house. Later that night, we order pizza, get liquor, roll up a couple joints, they call a few chicks, and we party, celebrating our accomplishment.

  *****

  We pull up and park at J.R. Recordings Friday morning at eight, right on the dot. I stop in my tracks when I see Bear open the door for us. Bear is Jacey’s scary as fuck husband that I may have pissed off the first time I met him. I flirted with his hot as hell wife, thinking she was just another one of our local female fans. She has this sort of exotic look to her with her tan skin, dark hair, and different colored eyes. I couldn’t help myself until he threatened to rip out my throat if I ever spoke to her like that again. Yeah, not a good deal. Especially when he’s one of the members of the local motorcycle club, Satan’s Sinners. And those guys you do not want to fuck with. Now when I look at her, I picture that old hag Ms. Carlson. A shudder goes through me just thinking about that woman.