by Cole, Cassie
We pulled up the weeds outside of Flop’s Bar & Grill. There were more there than in front of the diner. I tried not to look at the building, because it only reminded me of what had happened last night. Of how close we’d come to getting caught. We still might be caught if Sid suspected I was involved with Jesse’s sudden disappearance. Hopefully not, since tweakers like him vanished as quickly as they appeared in Eastland, but the fear still rolled around in my gut.
Flop usually didn’t open up the bar until 4:00, but he drove up and parked beside the building while we were pulling up weeds right after lunch. He shared a long look with me before going inside. I hoped he—and his ex-wife—would keep their cool if Sid came around asking questions. A few swings of that crowbar could weaken even the strongest resolve.
Along those lines, I expected Sid to come around today looking for me. Especially after booby-trapping my bike. But the afternoon passed without event as we picked weeds all the way south along the road, then back up again. We made idle chit-chat, but no topic that was particularly deep. I think we were both waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“You want a ride back to the motel?” I found myself asking when we were done. “Sky looks like rain.”
Charlotte looked around and then lowered her voice. “That won’t arouse suspicions?”
“It might,” I admitted. “Might also raise suspicions if I didn’t at least offer.”
She tapped her long fingers on the edge of my window while she thought about it. After staring at her all day, I couldn’t help but imagine those fingers wrapped around my cock, grinning as she stroked me…
“I think I’ll walk,” she finally said. “Probably best.”
“Yeah, probably,” I said.
As she walked down the road, I wasn’t sure if I was disappointed or relieved she’d turned me down.
31
Charlotte
I wasn’t sure if I was relieved, or disappointed, that Hawk hadn’t pushed the issue.
I wanted him to give me a ride home. I wanted him to ask whether or not the motel rooms were nice on the inside. I wanted him to invite himself in to look.
And then I wanted him to ravage me like it was our last day on earth.
But the danger from last night, and this morning, was still very real. A tangible thing in the air, like humidity, making it difficult to breathe. One Copperhead had already spied us in the cemetery the other day. All it would take was one more seeing Hawk’s truck parked outside the motel, and then watching him leave after a conspicuous amount of time…
“Better to walk,” I said out loud, as if that would help me convince myself.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. My heart leaped at the thought that maybe it was Hawk calling to tell me to come back, to get in his truck so he could take me somewhere secluded and make love to me on the soft Georgia grass, but it was only Scott. He’d called me twice today already, and this made three. But he hadn’t left a voicemail, so it couldn’t have been too important. He probably just wanted to convince me to pay for half of the magazine spot.
“Fat chance,” I told the freshly-weeded road.
It didn’t end up raining on the walk home. It was actually rather pleasant, especially since it gave me more time to think about things with Hawk.
There was something there. Not just the physical attraction—which was very, very strong. Something deeper. We were connecting in a way that surprised me, especially since I’d discovered his little workshop slash art studio. To think a biker bad boy like him actually made art out of metal!
I wasn’t sure what would happen when my community service was over, but I was beginning to wonder if it would include Hawk. If I can convince him to leave town. That would be the hard part.
But I had another week and a half to wear him down.
I took a shower to get the work sweat off me, then changed into a more comfortable pair of long jeans. I’d been wearing my cut-offs to give Hawk a little butt tease as we worked, but the wind had a chill in it that I knew would only get colder as the sun went down.
My phone buzzed. I went through a quick gauntlet of emotions: annoyance at Scott, excitement that it was Hawk texting me, and then grief as I read his long text:
Hawk: Hey. I didn’t want to do this via text, but I don’t have it in me to say it in person. So, sorry in advance for this. I can’t be with you. You’re sweet, and absolutely gorgeous, but I just don’t have feelings for you beyond the physical. Last night was amazing, but it just confirmed that I don’t have deeper feelings. Now that I’m certain, I didn’t think it would be fair to keep it from you before things got more out of hand. I hope you understand.
I read it three times, and my stomach sank deeper each time. This wasn’t about the dangers with Sid and the Copperheads, and how we needed to be careful. This was a completely different kind of rejection.
I started to text back, deleted what I had written, and then I buried my face in my pillow and cried.
When I was all out of tears, I went into the bathroom and washed my face. Then I left my room and went to the lobby to get a burrito and six-pack of beer—but mostly the beer.
When I walked into the lobby, however, the cooler from the corner was gone. There was a rectangular outline of dust where it had been.
“Compressor broke overnight,” Billy said when I asked. I didn’t know what the compressor was, but I knew it meant no beer. “Leaked ice all over the damn floor. New one’s comin’ tomorrow.”
I winced. “So was that why the sheriff was here this morning?”
“Uh huh,” Billy said, then scratched his head awkwardly. “Well, that was one reason. He’s got a new, uh, policy. About the motel. It sort of involves you.”
“Spit it out, Billy.”
“Sheriff says there’s a new long-term parking fee for all cars at the motel.”
I walked to the entrance, stood in the doorway, and pointed outside. “There are 15 empty spots out there, Billy! It’s not like I’m blocking anything!”
To his credit, he looked guilty about it. “I know, I know. It ain’t my rule. I’m just lettin’ you know.”
I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment. “How much is it?”
“$10 per day.”
“Bill me at the end,” I said as I left the lobby.
I looked at the sky. The clouds were grey and ominous, but I was too hungry to have potato chips for dinner. So I went back to my room, exchanged my flip flops for sneakers, and then walked back into town.
The easy stroll I’d had out of town that afternoon was an angry speed-walk now, both because of my mood and my desire to avoid getting caught in the rain. That self-doubt that lingered in the back of every woman’s mind came roaring to the front like a banshee.
Maybe I’m bad in bed. Maybe I wasn’t dirty enough for him last night—I should have gone down on him. Maybe I smelled bad, or didn’t groom my lady-parts well enough. Maybe he doesn’t really like blondes. Maybe he doesn’t like my personality; I talked too much, or told stupid jokes.
Maybe maybe maybe.
I re-read his text again on the walk. It didn’t matter that he said last night was amazing, and that I was gorgeous. The ever-expanding poison of doubt had taken its hold in my mind.
I called Momma, but it went straight to voicemail. That’s right—it was the night she volunteered at the bingo hall. I wished I had someone to talk to.
Calling Scott back was tempting, but I resisted the urge. That would only make my mood go from a zero to a negative 20. I’d been dumped or rejected by two guys in the span of two weeks. And somehow, Hawk’s rejection felt the worst.
It’s probably for the best, I told myself. Hawk is a dead man anyways. Better to not get involved with him before the Copperheads do something terrible.
The excuse was weak, and only left me feeling even more depressed about the situation.
I walked up main street and paused when the diner came into view. A white truck with a missing driver-side window was parked
out front. I couldn’t help but laugh. Of course he was here, because right here was the place where it made me feel the worst. The universe really knew how to pile on a girl.
For a moment I considered my other options. I definitely didn’t want to go to Flop’s, not after last night. The memory was still fresh in my head. The General Store might have food, but they had closed 30 minutes ago.
I started to turn around to walk back to the motel, then stopped. Men had immense power over my emotions. Scott could infuriate me with a 30 second phone call telling me he wanted me to pay for half of the magazine spot, even though I had left over a week ago. With just a text message, Hawk could squeeze my soul into a little ball and toss it into the trash.
But I was not about to let a man keep me from getting dinner.
I spent a moment collecting myself and then strode inside the diner.
Hawk was seated at one of the booths facing the entrance. He looked up when the door dinged, glanced back at his phone, then jerked his eyes up again. He gave me a weak little wave.
“Following me?” he said as I approached.
I passed him and sat at the next booth, my back against his. “Motel is out of microwave burritos.” Then, feeling aloof, I added, “I worked up one heck of an appetite last night.”
I heard him chuckle, which made the seat back we shared shake just a little bit. “Me too.” He paused and then added, “Did you, uh…”
“I got your text,” I said curtly. “I understand. I appreciate you being honest with me.”
Hawk cleared his throat and said, “Good.”
I felt proud of myself for saying something reasonable. It probably helped that I didn’t have to look him in the eyes when I said it.
Mindy came over, looked at each of us, and then grumbled something under her breath about fools. She took Hawk’s order, then mine, and then we sat in silence while waiting for our food. Cell phones made it easy these days. A few dozen cat photos on Reddit later and I was feeling at least somewhat good about myself.
I wasn’t lying about having worked up an appetite last night. I wolfed down Mindy’s breakfast special and still had room for a slice of cheesecake. I told myself it was because I’d burned a lot of calories last night and while pulling weeds today, and not because I was trying to sad-eat my feelings.
I pushed aside the urge to order a second slice of cheesecake, gave Mindy my credit card, and waited for her to return. But when she did, she had a funny look on her face.
“Honey? It says it was rejected.”
“What?” I stared at her, confused. “Are you sure?”
“Ran it three times. Technically I’m supposed to take the card after three, but I ain’t got time to mess with VISA, so you can have it back.”
I only had the one credit card, and my checking account was down to double-digits. But why was my card declined? I was nowhere near the maximum.
“I got her,” Hawk said, handing Mindy some cash.
“You don’t have to do that.” I fumbled in my pocket but didn’t have my purse with my debit card. Mindy gave an awkward smile and then walked back to the register.
“Too late now.”
I sighed and twisted around in the booth. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to make up for dumping me via text message.”
He still faced away from me, but I could see the smile in the way his beard moved up. “Can’t dump someone you were never dating, can you?”
“Feels like we’ve been on a week’s worth of dates.”
He rumbled with laughter. “It sure does, Peaches.”
I took another sip of my water. “Thanks again. I’ll see you in the morning. With the $8.99 I owe you.” I began to rise.
“Sit down,” he said quietly.
I turned to look at him. “What, you suddenly have a change of heart about everything?”
“Charlotte,” he said in a tense voice, “sit down and be very quiet.”
That’s when I realized there were a row of Harleys parked outside the diner. I quickly sat back down, and seconds later came the ding of the diner door opening, and the unmistakable sound of boots walking down the room.
I cradled my water in both hands and looked straight ahead.
“Look who it is!” one of the Copperheads announced loudly. “It’s our buddy Hawk.”
“Hey Hawk!” one of the others said in the same mocking tone. “You gone for a ride yet?”
“Been too wet,” Hawk said flatly.
The first Copperhead scoffed. “A little rain never scared away a real biker.”
“Maybe I’ll ride tonight,” Hawk said. He sounded like a bored father half-listening to an annoying child. “We’ll see what I feel like.”
“Hope you have a blast!” said the Copperhead. He and his buddies roared with laughter as they continued walking down the dinner, past me and to a booth in the far corner. None of them so much as glanced in my direction.
I started to casually get up to leave, but then noticed one of the Copperheads had remained behind. He stood next to our two booths, eyes locked onto Hawk. I sat back down and pretended to look at my phone.
“What do you want, Brick?” Hawk whispered.
“That call you made last night?” Brick whispered back. “Askin’ if anyone knows what Jesse was up to? Don’t call me with anything like that again.”
“I don’t plan to.”
Brick leaned closer. “Because I haven’t said nothin’, but if Sid asks, I ain’t gonna lie.”
“Wouldn’t expect you to.”
Brick sighed, lingered a moment longer, and then joined his Copperhead buddies in the booth.
“Wait a minute or two before leaving,” Hawk whispered. “If they think you’re leaving because you’re scared of them, it’ll just egg them on even more.”
I tinkered with my phone to buy time. Remembering the rejected credit card, I pulled up the app and looked at the notifications. Maybe it had flagged my purchases in this town as suspicious.
But as I opened up the recent transactions, the truth was much, much worse.
“Son of a bitch!”
32
Charlotte
I cursed so loudly that the Copperheads glanced over at me. But I was too angry to even think about their reaction. Because on my app was a very large purchase to a source I recognized.
“Damn, Peaches,” Hawk whispered behind me. “Whatever’s got you riled up must be real bad if you’re cursing.”
I hadn’t realized I’d cursed. I didn’t care. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Want me to drive you home?” he asked as I passed the booth.
I shook my head, and not just because it was a dumb thing to suggest with the Copperheads watching. “I need to walk this off.”
I stomped down the road for a few minutes, waiting until I was out of earshot of the town proper before making the phone call. I didn’t want anyone hearing this.
Scott answered on the second ring. “Oh, now you want to talk to me.”
“There’s a $2,500 charge on my credit card!” I yelled.
“Right,” Scott said. “That’s your half of the magazine ad spot. Just like we talked about.”
“Like we talked about?” I shouted into the phone. “We didn’t talk about this at all!”
“That’s not true.” Scott had the same tone he took on when he knew he was technically correct about something that was misleading. “The last time we spoke, I asked you to pay half of the magazine fee. You told me you didn’t care what I did, so long as I went and fucked myself first. I took that to mean you were giving me the green light to make whatever financial decision I thought was best.”
“Yes! With your money, not mine, Scott!”
“But you own half the business,” he said calmly.
I almost hurled my phone into the field next to the road. Somehow, I held back. “How did you even get my credit card number?”
“It was on file with our business PayPal account. You we
re using it for other business expenses, so I assumed you wanted me to use it for this.”
I bit back another curse. “I’d been putting business expenses on my personal card because our business card was already maxed out.”
“Well, you didn’t have to do that.”
“I did have to do that,” I shot back, “because we still had daily expenses for running the truck! Or do you think we could sell burgers without any ground beef or buns?”
“Please do not blame me for your financial decisions,” Scott said. “If you did not want the card to be used for the magazine ad spot, you should not have attached it to the business PayPal account. I was merely doing what I thought was best for the business.”
My financial decisions. As if him charging half of the magazine ad fee to my credit card was somehow my fault. He was just an innocent victim in all of this.
“Scott, for someone who is reasonably intelligent, there are times where you’re completely clueless.”
“I’m clueless because you left.”
I wasn’t expecting such an emotional response. Not from him. “I left?” I asked incredulously.
“You left,” he repeated. “You walked out of our dinner meeting and didn’t say a word to me. You just packed up your things and disappeared. I’ve been trying to call you so we can figure out what to do with the business. Just because you left Savannah in the middle of the night doesn’t absolve you from your responsibilities here.”
I reached the motel and went inside my room, locking the chain behind me. “What did you expect me to do? You told me you wanted to take a break, and then you started seeing someone else. Did you really expect us to continue working on the food truck together, pretending like nothing had changed?”