by Brinda Berry
“Gunner better put his eyes back on the parade,” Shawn mutters.
I don’t look over at Gunner. “Maybe you should quit looking at him then.” I raise one eyebrow at Shawn.
“And maybe he needs to learn you’re a grown woman.”
Shawn pinches me hard on the butt. It’s sharp and surprising, bringing a sting of tears to my eyes.
“Ow. That really hurt,” I draw in a quick, mad breath. My bottom smarts and, more, my feelings suffer.
“Oh? Sorry, baby. I guess I did it harder than I meant to.” He says this with hollow sincerity. Shawn stoops to pick up a piece of candy thrown from a parade float.
Gunner’s still staring at us and I’m uncertain whether he knows what happened in the past seconds. I smile and wave.
He only nods and looks back at the parade.
My skin still throbs from the stupid pinch. “It’s hot. I’m ready to get something to eat. Can we leave now?”
Shawn shrugs and grabs my free hand.
My smile is weak. Gunner’s stare finds me like a homing pigeon as Shawn and I move through the crowd. His earlier demands that I stop seeing Shawn ring in my head. It’s the first time I’ve defied Gunner and it makes me uneasy.
He doesn’t know how sweet and attentive Shawn can be. He only knows the guy he played football with years ago. Shawn’s different now. Older. More mature.
Except for that pinch that still smarts. I shake my head and scold myself. He doesn’t realize how rough he can be.
By the time we make it to the firework stand, it’s crowded. Last minute shoppers grab the best variety packs. One boy is crying because his mama won’t buy the Dragon Blossom Roman candle.
It’s so hot outside, sweat slides down my back and I want to forget about the fireworks and find some shade. “Can we hurry?” I ask.
Shawn uses his forearm and rubs sweat from his brow. “Baby, you’re the reason I’m buying this stuff. Gotta be sure I treat you.” He says it loud enough for several people around us to look over.
He shrugs his shoulders and rolls his eyes at them.
I didn’t even want to waste money on such temporary entertainment, but I don’t call him on what he’s said. Sometimes he says things I don’t understand at all.
Shawn picks out several items and the kid behind the counter bags up the purchase. We make our way to Shawn’s car, stopping to talk to a few people he knows. He doesn’t introduce me. I think back to a couple of times he’s done this before, and it’s really never bothered me in the past.
The heat is making me crabby. I hop in my side of the car and Shawn gets in the driver’s side. My legs stick to the leather seat.
He starts the engine and I lean forward and push the air conditioning button. Shawn delivers a stinging slap to my hand.
“Ow!” I snatch my hand to my chest. I inhale and exhale in short bursts.
“Wait until we’re on the road,” he says.
I flare my nostrils and grasp for self-control. “You did not just do that.” There’s a lot of nonsense I’ll put up with, but not being slapped. My mind travels back to the pinch earlier.
“Shawn, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but cut it out.”
“What are you talking about, baby?” He sounds confused.
“Don’t you ever hit me. And the pinch, it hurt.”
He laughs like he’s played a funny joke. “Baby, I’m sorry. You must have sensitive skin. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m not going to leave this lot until you say you forgive me.” We still sit in the gravel lot of the firework stand with the air conditioning on full blast.
“Okay.” I don’t know why there’s a knot in my throat. It has to be the fact it’s hot enough to fry an egg on his car hood.
“Good.” He leans over and gives me a gentle kiss. “Love you, baby.”
Love. The word rolls over his tongue for the first time ever and I’m taken aback. The knot in my throat grows larger as he stares at me with what appears to be a sincere smile.
Is he waiting for me to say it back? Of all the times to give me this declaration of love—if that’s what it is—he does it now when I’d as soon be stung by a thousand scorpions as say I loved him.
Thoughts of love and scorpion stings really don’t mix, so I hope he’ll back the car up.
I close my eyes and attempt to rein in my irritation. I need to get a grip and maybe spend some time alone. A bath and a good book will cure me.
Or else I might hunt down some scorpions to let loose on him. The thought tickles me.
“What are you grinning about, baby?” Shawn stretches a hand across the console and rests it on my thigh.
“Nothing.”
“Come on. You don’t look all happy for no reason. Tell me.” His voice is cajoling and he reaches for my hand.
“It was nothing.”
He tightens his hand slightly on mine. “You afraid to tell me?”
I look at him and smile. “Of course not.”
He nods and removes his hand to place it on the steering wheel. “Let’s go to your trailer.”
This wipes the smile from my face. “I … um…” I need to say something quick. There’s no way we can go there since Gunner says he doesn’t want me dating Shawn.
“What?”
“Gunner might be home. Can’t we go do the fireworks somewhere else?”
“If Gunner is there, we’ll leave. You can see his truck from the highway. Okay?”
I can’t say no to this request and sound reasonable. Since Gunner probably is home, we’ll pass on by and go to the bluff or somewhere else. “Okay.”
“Good.” Shawn turns on the stereo and picks up speed. He doesn’t talk to me the rest of the trip and I’m hoping we’ll see Gunner’s truck without Gunner seeing us.
When we get to the turn for the trailer’s driveway, Shawn slows and pulls to the shoulder of the road. Gunner isn’t home.
“See. He’s not here.” Shawn doesn’t look at me and maneuvers the car back to the road and toward the trailer. My heart rate quickens.
“Shawn?”
“What now?” He puts the car in park and opens the door. “You all right today? You seem a little off.”
“Hey.” I step out of the car. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but Gunner asked me not to date…”
Shawn stops walking and his shoulder blades draw together stiffly. Still, he doesn’t turn to look at me. “What? He’s your brother, Veronica. Not your father. Although your daddy in prison can’t really tell you what to do.”
Shawn sounds hurt. He runs his hands over his hair and links them behind his head.
“Hey.” I put my hand on his shoulder as we stand on the concrete trailer steps. “Shawn.” I take in a deep breath to calm myself. He’s never been so pissy with me before.
“Yeah?” He turns and looks at me, shadows in his eyes.
“Gunner doesn’t know you like I do.”
He nods, quick and jerky. “You’re right. I’m so sorry. That was a shitty thing to say. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Can we go inside? It’s so damn hot.”
“Sure.” I dig my key from my jean’s pocket. “Let’s get something cold to drink.”
I open the door and lead the way inside. The window unit is blowing cool air and I’m grateful. I head straight for the refrigerator and get some sodas. Shawn strolls around the room, picking up a ceramic dog and laughing at it. I’m not sure what’s so funny, but it’s good to see his mood improving.
“Your brother left you a note,” Shawn says. He points to the end table.
I read the note that lets me know Gunner plans to be out late and I shouldn’t wait up. When will he stop being mad at me?
“You didn’t have to be worried about a thing.” Shawn sits on the couch. “Come sit by me.” He pats the seat and I hand him the canned drink.
Instead of sitting beside him, I choose the recliner. I don’t know why I do it, but it causes Shawn’s eyebrows to draw together.
&
nbsp; I take a sip of my drink, then tuck my feet underneath me. “What time do you want to do the fireworks?”
“Later. It’s too hot right now.”
“You’re right.” I take another sip.
“I’m sorry for today. It’s … I don’t know. You think I didn’t know your brother hates my guts? I could be on fire and he wouldn’t piss on me.”
I grin at him. “Oh, Shawn. You’re exaggerating. He would piss. I’m sure of it.”
Shawn doesn’t laugh or smile. Instead, he gives me a blank stare. “Speaking of … I’ll be right back.”
The trailer is compact with my bedroom on one end and Gunner’s on the other. Luckily, the bathroom is on my end. I hear Shawn shut the bathroom door. He starts singing in a silly way, like he’s at some rock concert.
I shake my head at his crazy behavior and let it fall back to rest on the recliner.
“Baby? Can you come here?”
You’re kidding me. I hope there’s toilet paper in the bathroom. “Okay,” I yell and walk to the door.
“Can you come in?” he says.
“Shawn. There’s paper in the cabinet beside you.” This has to break the world record for embarrassing boyfriend moments.
“The door’s unlocked. Open it,” he says.
“Shawn. Help yourself.” I wait and listen for the sound of an opening cabinet.
The door pops open, startling me. Shawn gives me an odd look as if I’m the one being bizarre.
“What did you need?” I ask. My nerves tingle as if triggered by a tripwire.
“Why do you question me when I ask you to come? Can’t you simply do what I ask?”
He grabs my wrists, hauls me forward, and pushes me against the bathroom counter. “Maybe I wanted to give you a kiss.”
“Stop it.” The bathroom is tiny and I’m trapped by his body and the counter behind me.
His arm moves and something hard presses against my wrists. In one swift move, it cinches them together. It’s a belt. Gunner’s belt.
“Why are his things in your bathroom?” Shawn leans in. His voice is low, his breath hot on my cheek.
“We have one bathroom. What does it matter? Undo this.” I frantically scrub my wrists against each other trying to release the belt’s hold. Shawn is messing around, but this isn’t funny. “Undo it now.”
The belt is fastened in a loop around my wrists with one end free. He picks me up by the waist and my feet dangle from the ground. “Stop it.” Remain calm. “Shawn, if you don’t undo this now, I’ll never speak to you again. I’m not kidding.”
My breath comes in quick heaves. He’s scaring the shit out of me.
He hauls me to the open shower and sets me on my feet. “Come on. You know this feels good. I know you like it rough.”
There’s a tremor in my voice. “Shawn, please quit now.”
He grabs me and pushes me by the shoulders to sit. I don’t want to cry, but I can’t help it.
“Baby, everything will be fine. We’ll be fine. Don’t cry.”
I’m afraid to look at him and afraid to look away. Something’s really wrong with him and I think for a moment he might be crazy enough to seriously hurt me. But that can’t be right. I know him.
“Please, Shawn.”
He caresses my cheek with one hand and reaches back with the other. I’m not certain what he’s doing until the spray of water hits my head.
Shawn’s hands undo the buttons on my shirt, baring my chest to the spray of water. “You look so hot, baby.” His clothes are getting wet and I open my eyes against the sting of the water.
He stands very still, his hands braced on the top rail of the shower door. “You see what happens when you go up against me? I know what’s best for you.”
The water runs into my eyes and mouth. It’s steaming hot and with the lack of air conditioning in the bathroom, I can’t breathe.
“Let me get out, Shawn.” I cry so hard and I’m not sure if he’s still there. When I look up, he’s standing there watching me while I sit in the bottom of the tub.
Shawn wipes water from his forehead. His clothes are damp from the condensation of wet heat. Is he on something today?
He turns the water off and gets into the tub with me. My shoes and clothes are drenched, my hair plastered over my eyes, my hands balled into fists as I figure out how he’s got me fastened.
Roped like a calf.
Shawn pulls my chin to him and kisses me tenderly. I struggle to move away before I realize what I’m doing.
“Go ahead and pretend you don’t like it. It gets me off, baby.” He reaches up to release the front clasp of my bra. He grabs my breast hard and squeezes.
“Shawn, no!” I’m panicked and sick. “Shawn, I’m begging you to think about this. Gunner will be back—”
“No. Not according to the note. You know what? I’m tired of your brother thinking he’s in charge of you. I’m your boss. You got that?”
I’m quiet now. My mind races through possibilities of getting to my feet and running.
Shawn brings his face close. His gaze darts back and forth, searching mine. “I think you need a lesson.” He stands.
“No,” I whisper.
“It’s okay. We’ll make it through this. Here’s the test. I’m going to let you sit and think about all we’ve been through together. You stay right there. I don’t want you to leave the shower.”
“Wh—”
“You sit and think. I’m going to go watch some television and you’d better not leave that spot until I come in and get you.”
I nod, scared to say anything.
He steps out of the tub. “If you move from the shower, do you know what’s going to happen?”
I shake my head. My entire head bobs from the unsteady shake of my body.
“You’ll pay for your disobedience. You understand? Nod if you do.”
I move my chin up and down. Fat tears fill my eyes so I barely see him.
He backs up to the bathroom door. “You are mine. Not Gunner’s. Don’t forget it. I’ll make your life hell if you try. I’ll do it because I love you. You know I’ll do it. And if you tell your brother anything about this? Gunner will pay. Always. Got it?”
I nod again and choke back a sob.
He leaves and I hear the television turn on. The volume is loud, turned up so the bass of certain songs thumps against the walls.
I work at the belt around my wrists until they feel raw. He must’ve cut a hole in the leather when he was in earlier, and it’s notched so snugly, I can’t move to undo the buckle. I finally pull it off but don’t move from the shower. I throw the belt onto the bathroom floor.
Shawn laughs at something on the television and I freeze.
My wet shirt clings to my skin and I’m shaking. I fasten my bra. Then I unfasten it, wondering what will happen if Shawn comes back in and I’ve moved. Then I fasten it again.
Fuck that. I stand up and move one foot outside the tub, my tennis shoe squishing water onto the floor. The front door opens and closes. I don’t breathe as I listen for sounds of a car.
Nothing.
I move my foot back into the tub and begin crying again. I don’t know what to do. I curl down into a ball, my shoes making a squeaking sound as they scrub against the tub walls.
The television blares a commercial and the announcer’s voice echoes in my head. I squeeze my eyes shut harder. How long do I sit here?
There’s an almost unperceivable vibration from the opening and closing of the trailer door. I draw my knees up, and place a shaking hand on the edge of the tub. My hand slips down the silver tracks for the shower doors as I drag myself up.
The bathroom door swings open and Gunner blinks. “What the hell are you doing in there with your clothes on?”
My head swims. I can’t catch my breath.
Gunner grabs my arm and lifts me from the tub. “Are you sick? You don’t look good.” He pulls my gaping shirt together. “You should’ve called me. I would’ve come right
home.”
“No. I’m fine.” I look past him. “Are you alone?” But I know the answer. Shawn isn’t out there.
Gunner grabs a towel from the rack. He tosses it over my shoulders and pulls it around my upper body. “Veronica, you sit down and I’ll get you some dry clothes. Don’t move.”
“Okay,” I say. His gaze darts across my face and I know he can tell I’ve been crying.
“Veronica, if anything is wrong, you have to tell me. I’ll make it better. Okay? You will, right?”
“I love you, Gunner.”
“Love you, too,” he says and kisses the top of my head. “I’ll get your things.”
“You’re the best brother in the world.”
“It’s a tough job, kid.” He chucks me under the chin. “It’s what I live for.”
I cry as he walks away.
19
Collin
“Four forty-five,” I say to Veronica across the room as if she doesn’t have a clock visible on her computer. She nods and continues typing. You’d think I give her some quota of work to complete.
“Hey, little busy bee,” I say.
The clicking of keys trails off to silence. She gives me her full attention and a pretty customer-service smile. I imagine it’s one she used at the Gimme Gas counter. “Oh, you need something?”
“Malerie says you’re helping her plan the wedding. How’s it going?” I lean back in the office chair and rock for a second.
She shrugs. “There’s a place on the Florida coast she’s looking at. They take care of everything. They can show up and say their vows on the beach. They’ll have a nice time.”
“Ace says Malerie wants us there.”
She’s silent. “I told Malerie I’d go, but things like attending weddings cost a lot and I’d miss work.”
I pick up a pen and study the engraving while I choose my words. “I want you to come with me to the wedding. I need a week away. A vacation and a wedding combo. Maybe we can train on some more software while we’re together. You know? Think of it as a company-paid trip. It will be fun.” I lift my gaze from the monitor to see if she’s listening.
“I don’t know.”