by Bijou Hunter
Her tone makes me grin. “What if you had the money to move to the Boulders part of Shasta, would you?”
“When I was little, I wanted to live in a big house like my sisters did. Now, I think I’d just feel out of place.”
“Fuck anyone who made you feel that way,” I say, wanting to kick her sisters’ asses. Unfortunately, they’ve remained hidden enough that Shelby and Taylor haven’t exacted retribution yet.
“I don’t think it’d be them as much as me. I associate that part of town with Fuse and his family. It’s where Goddess Limbaugh moved when I was in high school. I remember how much she bragged. Even when I came to your house the other day, I was thinking about that bitch and my sisters. They don’t belong there either, but they made it seem like living there makes them better.”
“Don’t belong there, why?”
“For the same reason that you don’t. The people in the Boulders are stuffy. They do all that ‘keeping up with the Joneses’ stuff. The only reason Fuse and Coterie moved there was because they had dirty money. It gave them power, but they didn’t belong. Goddess and her family don’t belong either, but they think they’re special.”
“I can’t tell if you hate it because of the people who live there? Or because of the people like Fuse, who shouldn’t live there?”
“It’s all fake. The uppity people who live there and people like Fuse and Joey Limbaugh, who bought their way in with dirty money. They all want to pretend as if they’re better, but none of them are. They all shit and piss like the rest of us. They all fuck everything that moves. Their fancy cars and big houses don’t change anything. That’s why I don’t want to live there. I don’t want to pretend. I stopped dreaming of stupid shit a long time ago. It’s easier to be happy when your dreams are attainable.”
Ramona venting her old grudges makes her pale cheeks flush red, and I can’t help admiring her anger. I notice she doesn’t lump me and my dirty money into the equation. She doesn’t think of me as Shasta people.
“What?” she mutters, thinking my smile is mocking her.
“You’re so sexy when you’re pissed.”
Fighting a smile, she shrugs. “I’m not even angry. I just don’t like those shitheads, especially Goddess Limbaugh. She was a stamper too, and then her dad kissed Fuse’s ass and somehow convinced Fuse to make him the SGT at Arms after Goliath went to prison. Then Joey had money, and Goddess was best friends with Safire and Dymond. She now acts like she was always a Boulders bitch, but she was just like me back in the day. Besides, she interrupted our first coffee date, and that ruined my day. Fuck that bitch.”
Still grinning, I kiss her forehead as she ignores her food and only focuses on me.
“What’s a stamper?” I ask, forever trying to keep up with Shasta’s need to name everything.
“People who got food stamps like Kelsi and me. The free lunch kids got ratted out by Safire back in sixth grade. Goddess was just like us back then.”
“Tell me her name isn’t really Goddess.”
“No, it is,” Ramona says, grinning at my annoyed expression. “Her parents knew she’d be an insufferable bitch, so they gave her a name that would warn others of this fact.”
I chuckle at her confidence. Right now, I’m seeing her in the way she is with the Band. No worrying about what kind of impression she’s making on me. She’s just being herself.
“Ramona’s a sexy name. When Kelsi told it to me, I instantly thought that was a name I’d like to hear for the rest of my life.”
“You make me feel so special when you say things like that,” Ramona says in a voice that betrays her every insecurity.
“I see in you what the Band does. You’re someone special to us.”
Ramona smiles softly, almost embarrassed by the praise, but I see doubt lingering in her gaze. She doesn’t know I know about the Executioners. I’m sure she thinks that’ll matter. While I’m tempted to say something and end her worries, I remember the way she looked at me earlier when I asked if she wanted to make things work. Ramona’s walking an emotional tightrope by dating me. The least I could do is not push her off it.
THE LEGACY
During dinner with Shane, I realize how much I crave familiarity. With the Band, I know my place, their place, and our places together. We can just relax without analyzing every little thing.
Of course, Shane and I don’t have that yet. I’m not sure if people falling in love are supposed to instantly gain that sense of familiarity. I just know Shane owns my heart, but we aren’t easy together.
There are moments, though, like when he steals a bite of my food and looks to see if I mind. As soon as I grin, he takes another bite from my plate. That second time, he smiles in a different way. He knows now that I’m cool with sharing food. I think that’s important to him. I noticed how he and his sister invade each other’s space a lot. Shane also claimed he stole Shelby’s food, so he no doubt views crossing that line as a big deal with his people.
Since he knows his food thievery is okay with me, he can help me finish meals that are far too big. Normally, I’d take them home and let Kelsi and Hugh battle over the leftovers. Since I’m staying at Shane’s, I don’t know what to do with the food I can’t finish.
“You should eat more,” he says, now that my plate sits in front of him while I grin at his hunger.
“The medicine I take made me very hungry in the beginning. I gained like twenty pounds. Then my body adjusted, and I think it makes me less hungry now. I munch through the day, but big meals never get finished.”
I can tell Shane wants to ask questions about my medicine. He stays quiet about that topic, though. It’s the lack of familiarity. He doesn’t want to piss me off or make me cry. Uncertain about what might cause those reactions, he remains careful about his words.
“You like to eat a lot, and I don’t like to eat much. We even things out,” I say, feeling dumb but hoping he understands.
His sly grin tells me that he gets where I’m going. We’re a good match. We just haven’t hit our groove yet. I think—but I don’t tell him this—that we’re both prickly people. At our most comfortable, we can be extremely chill. Otherwise, we’re easily agitated. Our emotions just come out differently. I get low and want to hide. He gets angry and wants to lash out.
After we finish eating and he leaves a very generous tip for our waitress, I climb on his motorcycle. I’m still uneasy riding it. For years, I thought of bikers as the coolest because my dad was one. Velma really built up the club in my head. We were special because we were connected to Fuse.
Then I got old enough to realize she was delusional and I wasn’t special. Not to her or to him or to the town. People knew Fuse didn’t care about me. I wasn’t protected by the club. Sure, a few guys watched out for Kelsi and me when we’d walk home from school. For the longest time, I thought that was because of me. Nope, those guys were emotionally invested in Joanna’s blowjobs. Kelsi’s mom never fell in love with the bikers she partied with, and she always tried to make the most out of the situation. While Velma believed she was in love and Fuse was always offering his very best to her, Joanna got the score and guilted a few guys into keeping Kelsi safe.
That’s what I think about when I feel the bike rumbling between my thighs. It’s a reminder that I overestimated my importance for far too long. That stupid kind of thinking makes me vulnerable to stupid kinds of decisions.
“Are you upset that I ate all your food?” Shane asks me when we climb off his bike.
“No.”
“Why do you look upset?”
“I’m just thinking about stuff.”
“Us stuff?”
“No. If I was thinking about us, I’d be hornier.”
Shane loses his worried frown and smiles. “Without you nearby, I slept for shit last night,” he admits before looking a little embarrassed to show his hand. He must see something on my face because his confidence returns. “I never thought needing someone like this would feel so good.”
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br /> Grinning like a huge nerd, I even giggle behind my hand. “If you keep saying romantic stuff like that, I’ll fuck you right here in the driveway.”
Before Shane can take me up on my offer, his sister runs outside in a panic. Her arms go out for a hug, and I step back so she can embrace her brother. Instead, she grabs me.
“Promise you’ll be safe,” she cries, squeezing me to her. “You live near those trailer parks, don’t you?”
“Kinda, yeah.”
Shelby releases me and looks around. “Are we safe here, Shane?”
Her brother moves closer, gets larger, and studies our surroundings. I notice someone working in a yard down the street. The houses are far enough apart to allow privacy. I don’t see any reason to be nervous, but Shelby’s fear is electric.
“What’s wrong?” Shane asks Shelby.
“Taylor said the cops found another one of those girls on the road called Corpse Crossing.”
“The Shasta Slasher,” I mumble. “He isn’t going to come here, Shelby. He only grabs hookers and hitchhikers. No way he would come here with all these security systems in every house.”
“But you live over in the Railroad part of town.”
“Yes, but the trailer parks are in the Swamp.”
Shane rolls his eyes. “This town has to name everything.”
I don’t know why I find his annoyance amusing, but I smile. Then I see how afraid Shelby is, and my humor ends.
“The Swamp is near the rendering plant. There are a few trailer parks and a lot of woods. People on this side of town don’t have to worry.”
“But what about you?” Shelby asks, starting to cry.
Though I’m startled by her emotional response, Shane quickly wraps one arm around me and the other around his sister. We walk up the driveway to the porch, where River pokes his head outside.
“Don’t run off,” he says to Shelby, who hides her face against Shane.
River sounds angry, but he looks worried about a still-crying Shelby. I sit on the couch with her while Shane whispers something to his friend.
“You shouldn’t be afraid,” I whisper.
“The girl was afraid. No one saved her. No one will avenge her either,” Shelby says, sniffling next to me.
I think to hug her against me, but she’s taller and curvier than me. I suspect the size thing is why she cradles me against her rather than the other way around.
“That monster didn’t kill her quickly either. I bet she was so scared, and there was so much pain.”
Recognizing what Shelby’s doing, I wiggle free of her grip and wipe her cheeks. Quietly, I say, “I’m nervous about meeting your parents.”
Scowling at me, Shelby blinks a few times. She doesn’t want to stop freaking herself out. I know that feeling. When I’m low, I tend to think of more and more ugly shit. It’s like an addiction. Despite wanting to feel better, I crave negativity.
Shelby would prefer to sink into a dark place, but the thought of her parents is distracting enough for her to change topics.
“My mom is really sweet,” Shelby says and smiles. “Have you ever seen that show, ‘Monk’?”
“With the detective?” When Shelby nods, I shake my head.
“Mom loves that show. It’s her go-to when she’s upset about something. I bet she watched all of them when we moved here and she missed us.”
“Should I watch the show so she and I will have something to talk about?”
“No, or yes. Whatever. I just think you could watch it with her when she meets you. She’ll be nervous, and I think probably sad. Shane is her baby. She can’t accept he’s an adult, even though he’s been huge for like a fucking decade.”
“No cussing,” Shane snaps nearby.
“I’m telling Dad you yelled at me.”
“He knows.”
They share a smile, and Shelby takes my hand. “You shouldn’t be scared of my dad. He looks scary sometimes. Super frowny, but he smells really good, and he’s very kind inside. Like one time, we were watching a sports movie about a group of poor kids winning at cross country running against a bunch of rich fucks. Dad’s eyes got a little moist when the chunky runner was the reason they won. He loves underdogs, and I love him.”
When Shane strokes his sister’s head, she exhales all her tension away. He promises, “We’re going to check out what happened today with that girl.”
“We know what happened. There’s a serial killer in this town. He’s killing women. I’m a woman. Taylor is too,” Shelby says, and her voice hits a fevered pitch when she says, “Ramona’s a woman too! She lives in that place! In this horrible serial killer town!”
While Shane tries to calm down his now-crying sister and River looks constipated at the doorway, I fumble with my phone. I locate the first episode of “Monk” and start playing it loud enough to draw Shelby’s attention.
“Is that his assistant Natalie?” I ask as Shelby wipes her eyes. “I saw a part of an episode years ago, and she looked different.”
“No, in the first two seasons, Sharona is his nurse, who helps him solve cases. When she left, Monk hired Natalie as his assistant.”
With her mind now on something familiar and safe, Shelby relaxes next to me. I rest the phone on my leg while she holds my hand in a death grip. Occasionally, she’ll look at me as if I’ll be dead soon. It’s creepy, but I get weird when upset too.
Halfway through the episode, Shane leans down and whispers something in her ear.
Then he whispers in my ear, “You couldn’t be more perfect if you tried.”
When I turn to meet his gaze, Shane’s expression makes me want to believe I could own this man’s heart for real and forever.
THE ROMANTIC
Shelby’s moods go through cycles. She’s been on edge for weeks, and I knew something would set her off. I figured my relationship with Ramona might be it. She’s always struggled against change. Instead, she supported my romance and claimed Ramona owns a good aura.
Today, though, she hit the skids. At least, it’s over something real rather than getting riled up over a dipshit cutting her off in traffic.
I’m so worried Shelby’s panic will infect Ramona that I’m slow to respond to my sister’s tears. Her fears over where Ramona lives distract me too. Is the Railroad safe enough? I need to get her house a security system. Have guys riding by on a regular basis and make a show of it. Those thoughts keep me from taking charge.
Ramona, though, seems to know just how to get my sister—still a stranger to her—to focus her emotions in a positive way. They’re soon watching “Monk” episodes. Shelby frequently pauses the show to explain things or tell Ramona about what our mom would think.
By the time Shelby plays the second episode on the big-screen TV, the women are relaxed, and I’ve delivered them wine coolers. Ramona smiles at me, and I swear my fucking heart hurts at how beautiful she is when happy.
“Do you see what I mean about Ramona?” I whisper to River as we stand in the kitchen. “Can you understand why I’m falling so hard? Ramona isn’t an easygoing person, and she isn’t a rock for others to hold on to. She could have backed away and let me handle it. Most people would have, but she’s got the softest heart.”
“She did good with Shelby,” River mutters.
“What?” I ask when he keeps frowning in that snarly way he sometimes does.
“We’ve got to get a handle on that shit out at the trailer parks.”
I realize River’s worried about Shelby. They have a weird relationship. I often thought they would end up together, but they lack a specific quality that makes them go from friends to lovers. It’s beyond my understanding, but I sense River’s current frothing-at-the-mouth routine is because he thinks Shelby might ditch Shasta. Or maybe he knows it’d be best for her to go, but we’re both too selfish to push her to leave.
“I’ll drop by the police station tomorrow to get info on the murders,” I say while he glares at the little window over the kitchen sink.
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“Find out if these killings have been investigated by someone that isn’t an idiot. The cops around here can’t catch those teenagers stealing hubcaps. No way can they go CSI on whoever’s killing those women.”
“Wouldn’t hurt to have more of a presence in the rougher parts of town. Get a feel for the trailer parks too. We have girls working there, but that shit is handled by Glider. The guy’s said maybe ten words to me since we got here.”
“We fucked up by not paying enough attention to the hookers in Shasta,” he mutters and runs his hands aggressively through his hair. “It’s a small revenue stream, so I didn’t care. I focused on the drugs and weapons. That’s where the Executioners want to steal from, and it’s what the state cops and Feds might care about. I just blew off the smaller parts of the business.”
“There’s no reason to think we could have saved this girl. We don’t even know if she’s one of ours. Hell, we don’t even know if she was a prostitute. I haven’t heard shit about a killing.”
“Taylor gets all the good gossip. I swear she’s sleeping with all the big mouths in this town.”
“Tomorrow, we round up what we know and who does what and come up with a plan.”
“I’m going to get the prospect to ride by the trailer parks tonight. Just to look around.”
“Have Quaid do a drive-by past Ramona’s house too. I get the feeling we’ve underestimated a lot of shit about this town. We’ve been so focused on the Executioners and any troublemakers from the Skullz that we haven’t noticed how quickly people around here start shit.”
“Tomorrow, we give everything a fresh look.”
River doesn’t wait for me to respond. He’s riled up, but rather than cry and panic like Shelby, he just internalizes his issues. That’s why he seems like a hippie. It’s not that he’s really that laidback. He just doesn’t express most of the shit he feels.
I should be agitated too, but I love seeing Ramona and Shelby together. Two of my favorite people huddled on the couch is a sight I could get used to. In fact, I’d be happy to move Ramona into this house as soon as possible. However, I’m not so delusional as to believe she’d sign on to that idea.