Hot Southern Nights

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Hot Southern Nights Page 3

by Gen Griffin


  “I had actually put this uniform in the trash yesterday,” Addy confessed as he played with the flaps of his gaping shirt. “I dug it back out when I found out I was coming here to catch a family of skunks. I didn't figure there was any sense in ruining one of my good ones. Uniforms are expensive.”

  “I can imagine,” Trish said. “Considering how often yours probably get ripped off your body by women who are so eager to have you that they can't be bothered unfastening the buttons.”

  Addison laughed. “You want me. I know you want me.”

  “We've already had this conversation,” Trish reminded him. “I'm not looking for a man. I have my books. Besides, I'm not staying in Possum Creek much longer. Mom has Grandpa Grover on the waiting lists for a dozen different nursing homes. I'm going home as soon as he gets accepted.”

  “I stand a better chance of getting you naked between my sheets than you do of getting Crazy Grover into a nursing home. My mother has been a nurse at Shady Groves for the last five years. A criminal record, especially an active and eternally expanding criminal record, is a big red flag for the nice folks in admissions. Your family would have to be filthy rich to buy Grover's way into a nursing home. I'm talking you'd have to build the place a whole a new wing.”

  “Grover needs to quit shooting at the mailman,” Trish acknowledged with a tired sigh.

  “We need to figure out where he's hiding the guns,” Addison said.

  “I've searched that house three times. If you want to come search it again, feel free.”

  “I may have to,” Addison said. “Uncle Frank is pissed about yesterday. Grover shot the passenger's side window out of my truck.”

  “Technically he shot straight through your truck,” Trish reminded him. “Which proves how truly awful his aim is.”

  “Pretty sure he's legally blind,” Addison said. “Let's go outside. I need a cigarette.”

  “I'm completely sure that Grover's legally blind.” Trish started heading towards the parking lot. “My mother wasn't exactly honest with me when she asked me to come down here and help out her ailing father. I should have asked more questions about why we'd never visited Grandpa Grover during the entire time I was growing up.”

  “You can't help who your parents are,” Addy replied as they walked out the front door of the restaurant. “Last chance. You sure you don't want to ditch the douche-bag and come with me?”

  “I'm sorry, Addy. I really need to get home and make sure Grover isn't taking advantage of my absence by chopping up bodies in the basement.” Trish stared into his beautiful turquoise eyes. The boy really was too handsome for his own good. “I'm sure you can find some other girl who would just love to go to dinner with you.”

  “You know you don't have to sleep with me right?” Addison asked as the reached the porch. “Dinner doesn't come with an automatic sex requirement. We can just eat and talk. We are friends.”

  Trish scanned the parking lot and caught sight of Curtis sitting in the passenger's seat of her car. He was scowling and poking at his phone. Trish smiled half-heartedly at Addison. “I know we're friends. I appreciate you and everything you've done to help me since I moved to Possum Creek. Tonight's just not a good night.”

  “How about tomorrow night?” Addison asked as he started to walk Trish to her car. He held up his right hand. “I promise I'll behave myself. Scout's honor.”

  “You were never a scout,” Trish pointed out as she stopped walking. She put both hands on his muscular chest.

  “Why do you always worry so much about the details?” Addison stared down at her with a teasing smile.

  “Because the details matter,” Trish told him. “Speaking of details, I need to go re-explain the definition of the word 'ex' to Curtis. He doesn't seem to grasp the concept. Much like you don't grasp the concept of the word 'no'.”

  Addison laughed but his eyes quickly turned serious. “Call me if you need me to come redefine the term 'ass whipping' to that fat idiot. I've got a size 12 boot that's damn good at getting points across to thick-skulled idiots.”

  “Thank you, but I won't need you,” Trish said. “I'm a big girl and I can handle my problems on my own.”

  “You have my number.”

  “I don't need it.”

  “But you have it.”

  “I have it.” Trish leaned into Addison's chest and tried not to enjoy the all too brief hug he gave her.

  When she released him and turned back around, she found Curtis was staring at her with pure hatred radiating from his piggish blue eyes.

  Chapter 4

  “Y'all can't be here.” Kerry Longwood stared up at the teenager in front of him. He wished he were tall enough to look the belligerent skateboarder in the eyes. Kerry felt like being eye level with the lawbreakers' collarbones was hurting his authority.

  “Why not?” The teen crossed his arms over his slender chest and baggy bright green t-shirt. He had shoulder length brown hair that was falling in his eyes. He kept poking the skateboard at his feet with the toe of one of his fat, bright orange sneakers.

  “Don't you see the sign?” Kerry pointed to the cracked, peeling piece of plastic that had been glued to the side of the old brick building at least a decade ago. “It says 'No Loitering'.”

  “We're not loitering, we're skateboarding.” A blonde kid who was nearly identical to the teenager in front of Kerry spoke up from the steps. The blonde kid was wearing a neon pink shirt.

  “You aren't supposed to be here.” Kerry crossed his own arms over his chest. “This is private property.”

  “Dude, this place has been out of business since I was in second grade.” The first teenager held his hands out wide. “Its owned by some bank in Ohio. No one cares if we skate here. We ain't hurting anything. We ain't in traffic. We ain't breaking any laws.”

  “You're trespassing on private property. Banks in Ohio have the same rights as anybody else. If the bank owns this property, then you don't have the right to be here unless you have their express written permission.” Kerry glared at the teens.

  “Sheriff Chasson said he didn't care if we skated here, so long as we stayed out of the road.”

  “Sheriff Chasson doesn't make the laws,” Kerry sighed. A familiar feeling of annoyance came over him as the teenagers threw his less than perfectly law abiding superior officer's words in his face. It was hardly the first time Frank Chasson had changed the laws to suit his own convenience. “Get out of here now or I'm going to write you a ticket. If I see you skateboarding here again, I'm going to haul you down to the jail for trespassing.”

  “My Mom's right about you,” the blonde teenager said to Kerry. “You are one annoying little dick-faced twerp.”

  “You can't talk to me like that,” Kerry snapped.

  “Freedom of speech, cocksucker.”

  “You are verbally assaulting a law enforcement officer,” Kerry said. “That kind of behavior isn't going to fly. You two are about to be in big trouble. I need your names and I need you to put your hands in the air. You're both under arrest for-.”

  “Come and get us, loser.” The teenager in front of Kerry hopped up onto the skateboard and gave it a swift push off as Kerry lunged for him. The skateboard ran over Kerry's left foot and he tripped. Kerry went sprawling onto the concrete curb as the two skateboarders fled down the sidewalk as fast as their non-motorized wheels would carry them.

  Kerry got back up onto his feet and ran after them with his ticket book in hand.

  Chapter 5

  “You could have saved me a lot of time and gas if you'd told me you were cheating on me,” Curtis announced from the passenger's seat of Trish's ancient Honda.

  “Cheating on you?” Trish gripped the steering wheel tightly in both hands and stared hard at the dark, tree lined road ahead of her. It was full dark now. Curtis had managed to get a cherry pie out of the dessert case on his way out of the restaurant. He'd devoured two slices already. The remainder of the pie was sitting in a cardboard box in Curtis's lap. He
kept opening the lid, sticking his index finger in the filling then pulling it out and licking it off.

  Curtis choked out a bitter laugh. “You heard me.”

  “I never cheated on you, Curtis.” Trish was somewhat taken aback. “You're the one who cheated on me. Remember the strippers?”

  “You're sleeping with that cop you were cuddling with on the porch of the restaurant,” Curtis said bitterly. “Don't lie to me. I saw the way you looked at him.”

  “I'm not-. I'm not sleeping with him,” Trish stammered. She took her eyes off the road and stared at him in total shock. “Addison is my next-door neighbor. I've never done anything sexual with him and I'm not planning on sleeping with him.”

  “Oh please, Trish. Even the waitress knew you were fucking him. She saw you come out of the restaurant with him. She told me all about how he fucks every girl in town.” Curtis dug another chunk of pie out with his fingertip and ate it.

  “Its Addy.” Trish felt flustered and unsure of what to say in the face of his accusations. “He's my friend.”

  “You really think a guy like that is your friend?” Curtis sneered at her. “I can't believe how naive you are. He was all over you in the parking lot. Don't bother lying to me. I was watching the two of you.”

  “I'm not-.” Trish felt her cheeks flush bright red with embarrassment as Curtis's accusing glare burned into her.

  “You want him and you're too horny to think clearly about why he wants you. All you are to that guy is a one night stand for him to deny in the morning.” Curtis's voice was heavy with condescension. “You don't look that great without your clothes on, Trisha.”

  “What?” Trish was so shocked that she nearly swerved off the road.

  “Just telling you the truth,” Curtis replied with a hateful gleam in his piggish eyes. “You've got a great rack and a nice ass, but you're pale and you've got plenty of padding around the middle. You're the kind of woman who looks better dressed than you do naked.”

  Trish turned her eyes back on the road and fought the urge to cry. Her cheeks were burning with humiliation and hurt. Curtis was the only guy she'd ever seriously dated. He was the only man she'd ever slept with. His words hurt more than she could have imagined, but they also confirmed that she was making the right decision in ending their nightmare of a marriage before they reached their second anniversary.

  Curtis kept talking. “You won't make it with any other man, Trisha. You're too fat, too clumsy and too damned stupid.”

  “Stupid?” Trish tightened her grip on the worn leather steering wheel. “Did you really just call me stupid?”

  “You're divorcing me for Officer Fuck Buddy,” Curtis practically spat the words at her. “All you are is a piece of ass to him. He's not going to want to sit there and listen to you whine about what a bitch your step-sister is. He's not going to sit through painfully boring dinners with your crazy hippie parents. He's going to screw you once and then throw you away like a used condom.”

  “You are really sadly mistaken if you think that bashing Addison is a good way to convince me to take you back,” Trish said bluntly. “You just reminded me of exactly why I'm divorcing you.”

  “You're making a mistake,” Curtis said.

  “No, I'm not. You don't care about me,” Trish said flatly. “And to be really honest, I don't think I really care about you.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Curtis snapped.

  “I've had a lot of time to think about how we started dating and what has kept us together for so long,” Trish confessed unexpectedly. “I think we just got caught up in the life we were living. I think our entire relationship was based on the experiences we were sharing during college. I don't think we actually have anything in common, Curtis. We don't share any of the same likes or dislikes. We never have anything to talk about now that we've both graduated.”

  “We talk about my work. My clients,” Curtis said.

  “Your work. Exactly. Your work and your clients.” Trish didn't even try to hide the bitterness she felt. “What about my career?”

  “You don't have a career,” Curtis said.

  “You've stopped me from starting my career,” Trish reminded him. “You've sabotaged every effort I've made to get a job.”

  “I was lining up a job for you with the law firm,” Curtis replied.

  “A job that fell through every single time I asked for a set start date,” Trish sighed. “Look, I don't want to have this conversation. We've been over this enough times. I'm tired of making excuses for you. I'm done. We're going to court in less than a month and our marriage will be nothing more than a bad memory. I can move on with my life and you can move on with yours.”

  “You don't want that,” Curtis said.

  “Yes, I do.” Trish nodded her head. “I don't love you, Curtis. I'm sorry but there's nothing you can do to change how I feel. I tried to love you, but I don't. I'm sorry.”

  Curtis sighed as they drove past a sign that read 'Possum Creek 15 Miles'.

  “Trish,” Curtis said her name so quietly that she barely heard him.

  “What?” She asked. Arguing with Curtis had left her emotionally exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to drop Curtis off at his car and go to bed.

  “I'm sorry too.” Curtis reached across the car, put one of his fleshy, sticky hands over Trish's and snatched the wheel of the car hard to the left.

  Trish screamed as her car cut across the pavement, plowed through the grassy ditch on the side of the road and smashed hood-first into a tree.

  Chapter 6

  “You just tried to kill us!” Trish couldn't catch her breath. Her entire chest felt like it was on fire as she struggled to pull enough air into her lungs. The airbag had failed to deploy and her seatbelt had knocked the air out of her lungs when it had gone tight across her chest on impact. Trish pushed on the driver's side door of her car, leaning hard into the metal until the door moved enough so that she could stumble out of the wrecked vehicle and onto the grass.

  “Trish, are you okay?” Curtis's side of the car hadn't taken very much of the impact. He looked surprisingly unaffected by the wreck as he walked around the trunk of the car and headed straight towards her.

  “You just made us crash,” Trish gasped. “Why did you snatch the wheel?”

  “You must have hit your head.” Curtis sounded incredibly calm. “Come here, honey. Let me see you.”

  “Oh, hell no.” Trish tried to stand up but her high heels sunk into the soft dirt underneath her. She stumbled backwards away from him. “You nearly got us both killed.”

  “No, I didn't.” Curtis's expression was cold as he continued walking towards Trish.

  Trish forced herself to her feet. Her car was a crumpled, smoking heap. Fluid was pouring out of the engine. The entire front end now displayed a large, tree-shaped dent. She forced her attention away from her obviously totaled vehicle and onto the man who had just totaled it. “You snatched the steering wheel out of my hands.”

  “Trish, you don't know what you're saying.” Curtis held one fleshy hand out to her. “Come here and let me make sure you're not hurt. I think you must have hit your head.”

  “We need to call the police.” Trish took a deep, shuddering breath.

  “I already did.” Curtis continued to advance on her. “They'll be here any minute.”

  Trish kept backing away from him. She hugged herself with both arms as her high heels hit pavement. Curtis was only a step or two behind her. He reached out and grabbed her arm as she tried to widen the distance between them.

  “Why are you running from me?” His blue eyes had no warmth or depth in them as he stared down at her. His expression made her skin crawl.

  “You just destroyed my car.” Trish tried to pull away from him but his grip was like iron around her upper arm. “You nearly killed us.”

  “Not us,” Curtis replied. “You.”

  Trish stared at him in total shock but she didn't get the chance to reply. The sound
of a rapidly approaching vehicle echoed through the trees around them. As headlights rounded the curve behind them, the truck hit its brakes. Trish suddenly found herself bathed in the headlights of a large pick-up truck. Curtis glared at the newly arrived vehicle with an expression of distinct disbelief. And anger.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Trish. You okay?” The driver's side door of the truck opened. It was Addison's Fish and Game truck.

  She yanked her arm out of Curtis's grip and ran to Addy, throwing herself into his chest as the reality of what had just happened overwhelmed her. She was shaking hard as Addy automatically wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against him. He still smelled overwhelmingly like skunk but Trish buried her face in his chest anyway. She would gladly take skunk over the homicidal look in Curtis's eyes.

  “Officer, I'm afraid my wife has had a bit of a fright.” Curtis sounded too calm as he approached Addison. “She just wrecked her car. I think she had a little too much to drink during dinner.”

  “What?” Trish gasped and spun around to face Curtis. “I did not.”

  “Trish, please. Don't make this worse on yourself.” Curtis smiled at Addison, who he evidently either didn't recognize from the restaurant or was pretending not to recognize. “I'm sorry, officer. She had several drinks. I told her she didn't need to be driving. She lost control of the car and hit a tree.”

  “I am not drunk.” Trish stared at Curtis as if he were a total stranger. “What are you doing?”

  “Telling the truth, Trisha.” Curtis clucked his tongue at her. “I'm sorry, but you know I'm going to uphold the law. You're buzzed. Buzzed driving is drunk driving. You're going to have to face the consequences. You said yourself, you nearly killed us.”

  “I didn't do anything. You grabbed the wheel.” Trish stared at Curtis in absolute horror. He'd said he was sorry and he'd snatched the wheel of the car, smashing them into a tree. “You just tried to kill me.”

  “She doesn't know what she's talking about.” Curtis reached out to pull Trish back away from Addison. “I'm sorry, officer.”

 

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