by Vivian Wood
“Why?”
“Because the man I accused owns half the town. The sheriff was protecting him, that much was clear from the get-go. And then I ran off to Baton Rouge, went back to school, acted as if things were normal… by the time I decided to take my case to the DA, they were sympathetic, but they said that the defense would tear me up. Contact every ex-boyfriend or date I’d ever had, try to find someone to say… that I liked… that I liked it rough…”
Rose realized she was crying, felt like a fool. Shelby just gave her an awkward pat on the back, unsure what to do.
“I’m sorry,” Rose said, trying to regain her composure. “I’m still kind of… you know.”
“Don’t apologize,” Shelby said. “And just so you know? Those guys are assholes, grade-A scum. Everyone that protected the guy who assaulted you, they suck.”
Shelby’s words struck Rose as funny, and she started laughing though the tears.
“Good,” Shelby said. “You should laugh at them.”
Which made Rose laugh harder, until she couldn’t breathe.
“See?” Rose said, wiping at her tears. “See why I can’t dump this on a guy?”
“Pssh, please. Any guy worth his salt would gladly deal with a few tears if it meant he got to hold your popcorn at the movies.”
“Uh-huh,” Rose said, although Shelby’s humor was having the desired effect, calming her down. “What do you think? Wait until the third date to unleash this on the poor sod?”
Shelby cackled. “First date, lay it all on the table. See what happens.”
“Yeah, I’ll work on that,” Rose said, rolling her eyes.
Shelby was quiet for a minute, pursing her lips.
“So you’re in Catahoula Creek for awhile now. What are you going to focus on?”
“Uhhh… well, the first thing is conquering the vet clinic. I have Colt to help me, although I’m sort of… skeptical.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know. It seems like he’s going to up and leave halfway through,” she said.
Shelby brows rose. “I went to school with Colt, all twelve years. He’s not really the give up type.”
“No?”
“Nah. Besides, when I was talking about all the men in town, the ones that think you’re hot? I mainly meant him.”
Rose blushed to the roots of her hair.
“I told you why I’m not interested.”
“I know. Anyway, Colt is kind of…” Shelby trailed off.
“Kind of what?”
“It’s not really fair for me to say, but he’s kind of… He sleeps with a lot of girls, you know?”
“You’re saying that he’s a dog?” Rose said, confused.
“He’s a good guy, but… yeah. He doesn’t let anyone tie him down.”
Rose pulled a face. “Guys are dumb.”
“They can be,” Shelby said. “I dunno. I think the girl that ties Colt down will have to be really special.” She rolled her eyes. “And by that I mean really gorgeous and basically unavailable.”
“You have a lot of thoughts about Colt Roman,” Rose noted.
Shelby grinned.
“What kind of town gossip would I be if I didn’t?”
Rose looked at her, then shook her head.
“Listen, I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone that I was assaulted.”
Shelby looked horrified. “Of course not.”
“Okay. I just figured I couldn’t be mad if I didn’t say it, so…”
“Look, there’s tons of town gossip without adding yours to the pile,” Shelby said. “Mostly who’s hopping beds, and who’s gonna sell their farm.”
“Yeah?” Rose asked. “Sarepta got together as a town and decided to sell to a developer. You heard about that?”
“Sort of. I know that my dad’s really worried about some real estate developer. Says they would come in and pave everything over, build a huge hardware store and a Walmart.”
“Your dad’s not that far off. The developers came in, bought most of the main drag of Sarepta. Bulldozed it all, put up a shiny new grocery store, hardware store, gas station, two restaurants…” she said, ticking them off on her fingers as she went. “It was crazy. Sarepta used to have like five hundred people, now it has like five thousand.”
“Whoa. That’s bananas. The developer owns all the businesses, I’m guessing?”
“Or they sold them to whoever was willing to pay their prices… which were a lot higher than what they paid. Like the pharmacist, for example? He sold out, and when he saw the new buildings, he thought maybe he’d buy back in. Except the buy-in price was like… twenty times what he’d been paid. No more small-town charm, it was all Walgreens and Winn-Dixie and Home Depot.”
“Jeez. So the people that were small business owners couldn’t afford to own businesses anymore? I assume if they did find somewhere else to put down roots, they would still have to compete with the chain stores.”
“Yep. It was a decision that they made, but… it sucked. And don’t even get me started on the land they built on. They needed enough space to put in prefab houses, so they bought old man Johnson’s farm for a song. A lot of the places we used to hang out as kids were torn down. I came home from college and it was just… totally different.”
“Man, the idea of that happening here freaks me out,” Shelby sighed.
“Me too,” Rose said.
She bit her lip. It was on the tip of her tongue to say that the Chalke family ran the development company, and that Jared still had a cushy spot as his dad’s main man.
Shelby’s phone rang, interrupting her train of thought.
“Sorry,” Shelby said. “It’s Remy. Do you mind?”
Rose shook her head. Far be it for her to mind anything Remy needed.
“Hello? Oh. Where?” Shelby said, glancing at Rose. “No, I’m actually at her house. Hold on.” She covered the phone. “Remy found a dog that’s hurt. Limping, she said. She wondered if you could take a look at it.”
“Sure, of course. Can she bring it here?”
Shelby uncovered the phone. “Can you bring it here? Okay. Good. I’ll text you the address.”
She hung up the phone without ceremony, and sent a text. “She’s on her way over.”
“Remy a big animal lover?”
“Oh god, yeah. The Romans have all of these Catahoula curs that run wild, all over the property. She’s been begging Sawyer to let her have one, but Sawyer doesn’t get the whole keeping them in the house thing. It’s like… their one dire issue.”
“I couldn’t even begin to have that conversation with someone I dated. My dogs come first.”
“Yup. Oh, Remy’s here.”
Shelby and Rose got up and went out front, closing Maniac in the backyard. Remy and Sawyer were unlocking the cargo bay of their Range Rover.
“Could you—” Remy said to Sawyer.
“Got it,” Sawyer sighed.
He lifted a small beagle out of the back, white with brown and black spots. He carried it toward Rose. It whined a little, but was otherwise well behaved.
“Hi. Where do you want it?” he said.
“Ummm… how about you guys find a spot in the grass?” Rose said, pointing to her feet.
Sawyer sat the dog down, and Rose knelt by it.
“She’s pretty,” Rose said, eyeing it.
The dog took a step, limping a bit. Rose petted the dog, found her tolerant. Picked up the back paw she was favoring, saw the problem immediately.
“Ah, here we go,” she said, using her fingernails to dig out a small piece of metal from one of its paw pads. The dog struggled a little, but it was over in a flash.
“Oh, good girl,” Remy crooned.
Rose stood, almost smiling at the resigned look on Sawyer’s face. That dog was sleeping inside tonight, and he knew it.
“Let me get antiseptic for her paw from my bag. Then you can go.”
“Thanks!” chirped Remy.
She opened he
r car, located the antiseptic, and squeezed a bit from the tube to the dog’s paw. “That should be good. Try not to let her lick the paw too much for a couple days.”
“Thank you,” Sawyer said, picking up the dog again.
“Thanks so much,” Remy said. “What do we owe you?”
“Nothing,” Rose waved her off. “Call it introductory pricing.”
“Hey, can I get a ride back to the house with you guys?” Shelby asked Sawyer.
Sawyer grunted, which she apparently took as a yes.
“See you later, Rose!” she said, waving. “Don’t forget about the muscadines.”
“I won’t. See y’all later.”
A minute later, the yard was silent again. She went back into the yard, grabbed the grapes, and let Maniac back in the house.
The other dogs greeted them happily. She stuck the grapes in the fridge, uncertain what to do. She went to sit on the couch, mulling over all that she’d learned today.
She’d been right about Colt, that much seemed clear. If Shelby was right, if he was a dog, then Rose ought to steer clear.
Or maybe… maybe he would be a good choice to… experiment?
Her mind offered images of just what experimenting would look like. Rose and Colt naked. Her on top of him, kissing him, riding him. Her throwing back her head, rosy with perspiration, radiant…
“All right,” she said to herself. “Enough of that, really.”
She didn’t know why her brain liked picturing Colt so much. Why keep coming back to him? It made no sense.
She got up and looked in the pantry. She didn’t have a lot in the way of food, but she was rich with wine. A nice burgundy would suit her current mood perfectly.
Grabbing the bottle, she uncorked it, not bothering with a glass.
Here’s to not thinking about men anymore, she thought.
She toasted herself, lips curling.
8
Freshly returned from her third year of veterinary school, Rose was in her hometown partying. Well, if sitting at the one bar in town with your only friend from high school could be called partying, anyway.
“Seriously?” Leslie said, putting down her beer. “Look around. Most of the people in this bar, hell in this town, have gotten less attractive in the last four years.”
Rose looked around the bar. It wasn’t untrue, sadly. A lot of the jocks she’d had crushes on in school had grown fat, or lost their hair. Or their glaring personality issues, once ignorable in a boys-will-be-boys sort of way, were hard to overlook now.
Sadly, the girls had only fared a little better.
“It’s just because we both got out of here, got to see a little more of the world,” Rose said with a shrug.
Leslie was a sleek blonde stewardess, with killer curves that hadn’t been present in high school. Whether the years had been kind to her or a plastic surgeon had fixed her up, Leslie was definitely defying the trend.
“Yeah… I guess that’s part of it,” Leslie shrugged, knocking back her cocktail. “Now there’s an exception for you… Jared Chalke. He's hot.”
Leslie stood up.
“What are you going to do?” Rose asked.
“I’m going to order us some flaming tequila shots… and then I’m going to ask Jared to dance. Or Robert Sims, he’s looking pretty good…”
Two hours and… somewhere more than six drinks later, Rose was ready to call it a night. She’d grown tired of watching Leslie make out with Robert at the bar.
She wanted to go home.
She pushed to her feet, noting the distinct wobble as she stood. She frowned. That wasn’t good.
“Leslie,” she said. “I want to go home.”
Leslie came up for air.
“No worries. Just take a cab,” she slurred. Leslie'd had two more shots than she had, and was in no state to go anywhere.
“Dude, we’re in Sarepta, not New Orleans. There are no cabs here.”
“I’ll take you,” Jared offered.
Rose looked at him. He was reasonably sober. It was probably about the best offer she was going to get.
She turned back to Leslie, only to see her friend had submerged once more. She looked at Jared again.
What could it hurt? she thought.
“All right, let’s go,” she said to Jared.
Jared smirked at her. She shivered under his gaze, and not in a nice way.
Rose got up and headed to the parking lot. He hit the remote access to a super fancy souped-up Chevy, red as a cheap manicure.
She rushed over to let herself into the truck, eyeing his smirk the whole way. There was something about his expression that she didn’t like, but she just got in the truck and did her best to shut up.
He climbed in the driver’s seat and started the engine. Only then did she realize that he was a smoker. The bar had been full of smoke, but she couldn’t remember him lighting up in the bar.
He lit a cigarette, looked at his watch.
“You staying with your ma?” he asked. She got the feeling that if she said no, he was going to try to come inside.
“Yes,” she said, looking out the window.
He pulled out of the parking lot, going the right direction. Rolled down the window, let some of the smoke out.
Relax, she told herself.
He put his cigarette in the ashtray. The smoke made her cough. He laughed at her, like she was feeble or something for not liking the smoke.
“You know, it’s a pity you were so quiet in high school.” He threw his arm over the bench seat between them, almost touching her. “I bet you were real kinky, huh?”
Rose looked at him, something inside her going cold.
“No,” she said, scowling. He continued as if she had never spoken.
“Or were you a prude? I could see it. Still kinda are one, huh?”
His hand moved from the back of the seat down to the hem of her denim skirt, tugging roughly.
“Don’t,” she said, not liking how shaky her voice came out.
He smiled, moved his hand back to the top of the seat. He didn’t say anything for a while, but then he started touching her shoulder, her arm.
“Please stop,” she said after a minute, squirming away.
“Please stop,” he mimicked. “Why don’t you quit being such a bitch?”
“Just pull over, let me get out,” she said.
“Shut. Up.” He locked her door, then took a right turn when he should’ve kept straight.
She couldn’t even look at him, so she just looked at her own image reflected back in the window. She realized she was crying, touched her tears with a fingertip.Abruptly he stopped the truck. She went for the lock, but he hit it again. Then his hands were on her, up her skirt.
“No!” she said, but he laughed at her.
“You think you can say no to me?” he said, pulling her panties down. “No one says no to me.”
He ripped her panties off.
“Please—” she begged.
9
She sat up in bed, chest heaving. Her whole body was bathed in sweat. She could feel his hands on her body still, feel his hot breath on her neck.
You’re not there anymore, she thought.
She looked at the windows, trying to ascertain the time. It was dark, not even close to time to get up.
She’d had the dream again. She needed to remember that it had been almost a year, that she was moving on.
I’m safe, she told herself. He’s nowhere near here.
She felt sick, the aftereffects of way too much wine for her system. Nothing to be done about that.
The dogs were scratching at their crates and crying to be let out. She threw off the covers, padding to them.
Rose unlocked the crates, then lay down on the newly delivered couch. She pulled her feet up, and the dogs settled around her.
She closed her eyes, but it was a long time before she found sleep.
10
Jared Chalke waited in his truck outside the seedy motel,
just outside of Baton Rouge. He lit a cigarette, looked at his watch.
Usually he didn’t involve himself with this aspect of the family business. But recently his father had sat him down and told him he wasn’t hands-on enough.
Like Jared needed a lecture from his old man. The senior Chalke was so corrupt that he had the sheriff and the police department in his pocket.
Couldn’t they do this work? Jared thought. I have better things to do.
But no. So here he was, on a late-night stakeout. He blew a smoke ring, eyed his passenger seat. Thought of all the grade-A ass he’d gotten in this car.
Good times.
He sighed, ready for this to be over already so he could get back to patrolling the bars. It was Friday night, after all.
He saw his target out of his rearview mirror. A little brunette done up like a tramp, half-carrying a blond man. They stumbled past Jared’s truck, the man so drunk he was nearly incoherent.
The woman shot a look at Jared, a little half-smile. He didn’t respond, thinking better late than never…
The couple went into a room after fumbling with the keys. The door slammed. The lights went on.
Jared looked at his watch again, flipped out his cigarette butt. It wouldn’t be long now, he guessed.
About ten minutes later, the lights went out. The door opened, and the brunette came out, adjusting her dress. She walked over to Jared’s driver’s side window, smirking.
“It’s done,” she said, waving a digital camera.
“Give it to me,” he said, reaching for it.
“Not so fast,” she said. “Cash first.”
He glared at her. Stupid bitch wouldn’t agree to do this unless she got paid, of course.
He handed over a wad of cash, and she gave him the camera.
“You should see what I got,” she said, tucking the cash away in her bra. “Really good stuff.”
He scrolled through the pictures until he was satisfied, then tossed the camera on the passenger seat.
“Fine. You stay with him for a few hours, make sure he won’t choke on his vomit in his sleep.”
“He hasn’t thrown up,” she said.
“He will. The sedative that you slipped in his drink does that.”