by K. A. Ware
Still aggravated at the turn of events, I swore to myself that if I made it out alive, first thing Saturday morning, I’d visit small, compact car dealership and get my own car. Daddy had meant for us to share the truck equally. However, on a regular basis, Savannah would run off to Pope’s with it or take off from work early to meet him. Inevitably, she’d leave me to mooch a ride off the one person I had no business being confined with in a car alone.
And after Zep’s unbearable taunts all day, I didn’t trust myself around him.
He hated me. He wanted me. He mercilessly pushed my buttons and sat back enjoying the show as I imploded. I had no idea what his endgame was, nor did I plan to find out. The fact remained, while I agonized over putting the brakes on whatever was brewing between us, he’d already moved on with someone else before I’d changed the sheets.
Unfortunately for him, that certain someone else needed a good dye job and an exfoliator. There was no accounting for taste.
As Zep maneuvered the truck to hit every pothole and imperfection on the road, I cursed and gave him a one-finger wave through the cab window. What the hell did he see in her? Sure, I supposed on a purely aesthetic level, she could be considered pretty…if you were into the nipped, tucked, enhanced, and permanently surprised look. But, what she had going on upstairs didn’t mesh with what I knew of the person Zep was today. He struck me as a man who got off on a good conversation just as much as a good fuck. And, add them together? Well, a woman might as well hang a cape on the front of her pussy and spend her spare time saving the world.
Because she ruled it.
Locked in a mental world of action hero role play with a very rugged and bearded Superman, I neglected to notice the hard-right turn he made from the highway onto a dusty dirt road surrounded by trees and wildlife.
Completely out of my element, I gripped the side of the truck bed until my fingers turned a blinding shade of white. Without a doubt, I knew we were surrounded by wildlife because as the truck bounced all over the rough terrain, dozens of glowing, hungry eyes appeared out of nowhere and stared at me like I was their long-awaited for meals-on-wheels.
“Oh shit…” Crab-crawling backward on my hands, I flung myself in an impressive full-twist against the cab window and banged on it until I thought it would shatter. “Zep! Stop the car! Zep! There are pumas or some shit out here about three seconds away from ripping my throat out. Zep!”
As the car rumbled across raised tree limbs and rocky terrain, I shoved my face against the glass just in time to see his shoulders shake as he wiped his eyes.
“What? What the hell? Are you laughing at me?” Pounding on the window again, I let out a bloodcurdling scream. “Stop this fucking truck and let me out!”
I’m going to die in the middle of nowhere.
Pulling into a clearing, he spun the tires, flinging mud across my cheeks and in my hair. Clusters of trees enveloped us, as if the moment we drove into them, they closed and transported us to another world. Only a sliver of sun still broke through an accidental opening in overhead branches, and other than the roar of Zep’s truck, sound ceased to exist. Any other time, I would have found it peaceful. Today, I’d had enough of our constant push and pull and just wanted to go home.
Finally coming to a stop next to a murky creek bed, I exhaled a rough breath. Squaring my shoulders, I mustered as much dignity as possible as he slammed the door and walked wordlessly to the lift gate. With his hand on the latch, he caught my eye and gave me a wink before releasing the lever and allowing the gate fall wide open, effectively demolishing my only barrier against the tree-dwelling serial killers.
He bit his lip to keep from laughing as he bowed. “Be my guest.”
“Are you crazy,” I screamed, trying as best I could to climb on top of the roof of the cab. “Do you want to see me torn to shreds?”
“Addie, the only thing living in these trees are squirrels. Unless you’re stuffing your bra with acorns, I think you’re safe.”
“Nice. You’re a fisherman and a comedian. Don’t quit your day job.”
Patting the edge of the lift, Zep sat down, rustling a brown paper bag in his hand. “Sit down, Addie. We’re not going anywhere for a while. You might as well get comfortable.”
Annoyed, I scrambled to the edge of the lift and plopped down beside him. Peering over his shoulder, I gasped as he crushed the top of the paper bag around the neck of a glass bottle. “Oh my God, is that liquor? You drink hooch out of a bag? What’s wrong with you?”
“It’s not hooch; it’s bourbon—fucking expensive bourbon.” Shoving the bag under my nose, he cocked an eyebrow. “You want some?”
“Absolutely not.” I stuttered, shocked that we were sitting by a creek bed five o’clock in the afternoon on a Monday drinking bourbon out of a paper bag.
Zep squinted an eye and shook his head. “You sure do have a lot of rules for yourself, Snow White.”
Unable to form an adequate comeback, I stared straight ahead at the muddy creek as he took a drink from the bag. I tried not to watch the way his full lips molded around the bottle-neck, sucking every drop into his mouth before swallowing it down with a gusto I reserved for things such as birthday cake and top-shelf wine. I tried not to remember how they looked wrapped around the water bottle in the office, and I tried not to remember how those lips felt on my skin. I tried…and I failed miserably.
“No rules,” I said, forcing myself to sit on my hands. “Just careful of perceptions.”
Taking another long drink, Zep grimaced as he swallowed, clearing his throat with an unremorseful grunt. I don’t give a fuck what people think.”
“And does that include day-drinking out of a grocery sack? Classy.”
Smirking, he pointed the neck of the bottle toward me. “You want to talk about classy? You were riding in the back of a fucking truck bed like a Doberman. You don’t have a lot of room to talk.”
My mind raced for a witty comeback…something that would gain me some ground and make me not feel as if I were drowning in the hard stare of his blue eyes. But he was right. I didn’t have room to talk. Because of my overdeveloped sense of pride, I’d ridden across town in the back of a truck bed, filmed by teenaged drivers joyriding in their parent’s expensive cars.
I’d been too embarrassed by Zep’s taunting and Bam-Bam’s innocent observation to tell everyone to kiss my ass and not give a fuck. Just like he said, Zep didn’t give a fuck. That was just the type of person he was. He didn’t care about social norms or customs or protocol. He did as he pleased and dared anyone to tell him otherwise. He reminded me a lot of Savannah, both possessing a quality I’d envied my whole life.
Being perfect was exhausting.
I rolled my shoulders in a futile attempt at releasing the tension knotting my back. “Zep, why are we here?”
He hooked a finger under my chin, lifting my eyes back to his. “You need to take it down a couple of notches.”
“You need to mind your own business.” Jerking out of his hold, I put space between us. Not because I wanted to, but because I didn’t trust myself.
“Savannah knows about us,” he blurted out.
My heart leaped into my throat. Placing a hand against my stomach, I tried unsuccessfully to keep my voice on an even keel. “Did you tell her?”
“Not exactly,” he said while ripping pieces off the paper bag and tossing them aside. “We were talking in the office last week, and she mind fucked it out of me. Your sister is some sort of truth ninja.”
I tossed my head back and laughed, causing a lock of hair to fly over my mouth. “Welcome to my world,” I mumbled, raising my hand to tuck the rogue hair behind my ear.
As if it were an automatic response, Zep dragged my hair across my cheek and tucked it securely behind my ear. “She wants us together, you know.”
I did know. Savannah made no secret that she thought I was full of shit with the whole Jim LeChair story. But the fact that Zep knew fucked with me. It unbalanced me and sent my safe
little world careening off a cliff. I needed an escape. I needed a way to deflect what was happening.
I needed alcohol.
Taking the bottle out of his hands, brought it to my mouth and prepared to drown the voices in my head when he grasped my wrist.
“Addie, you may want to go slow if you’ve never had bourbon before.”
“I’ve had bourbon before, Zep. I’m not fourteen.”
As it turned out, I hadn’t had bourbon before. After the first swallow, fire shot down my throat, constricting my airway, and incinerating every fiber in my chest. “Holy shit,” I managed to sputter through hacking coughs.
Slamming a palm against my back, Zep raised an eyebrow as my eyes watered and slobber rolled down my chin. “Good, huh?”
“Smooth,” I wheezed.
Taking the bottle out of my hands, he sandwiched it in between his thighs and gripped the edge of the lift. “You asked me why we were here. Do you remember four days before we took our final exams during our senior year? We got in that fight outside the chemistry lab.”
The memory burned deep in my mind. “Yeah, you wanted to grow pot for your final exam project. What the hell were you thinking?”
Zep laughed, draping a hand across my thigh. “You were so fucking mad at me. You threatened to walk out and let me fail. I wasn’t so much afraid of repeating senior year as I was of never seeing you again.” An introspective look crossed his face, and his eyes darkened as he lost himself in another time. “I knew I had to get your mind off your world and introduce you to my mine.”
I studied his face. “You told me I needed live life instead of reading about it. Then you took me four-wheeling.”
His eyes crinkled in amusement as a slow grin spread across his face. “Yeah, and you fought me every step of the way.” His gaze lowered to my thighs and his smile faded. “You still do.”
The intensity in his voice stopped me cold, and I shook my head, praying he left the past where it belonged. “Zep, don’t.”
“Addie, why did you never have kids? You always loved them. Even in high school, you’d already planned their names. What where they, Katie and Ethan?”
“You remembered.”
“Of course, I did.”
The realness of the moment was too much. “Look, it’s getting late.” I half-way protested because, honestly, I’d lost all concept of time.
Zep squeezed my thigh and gave me a sympathetic look. “Tell me.”
Sure thing. Open a vein and bleed. Piece of cake.
Folding my arms across my chest, I admitted the biggest lie of my marriage. “Roland didn’t want children. After a few years, I thought I could convince him that a family would fix us, but he was adamant. I still don’t know if he didn’t want kids or”—swallowing the lump lodged in my throat, my voice trailed off to a whisper—“if he just didn’t want them with me.”
“Jesus, Addie! Didn’t that tell you anything?”
The pity in his eyes almost did me in. “I’m not as smart as you, Zep. I believe in the goodness of people.” Then, because the heaviness of the moment had become too much to take, I added, “Even if they betray me.”
“You’ll never let that go, will you? Haven’t you ever made a mistake?
“Twice.”
He shook his head. “You know, Snow White, maybe one day we can have a fucking civil conversation without you putting up enough walls to house a whole neighborhood.”
As I opened my mouth to argue, my phone rang, as Taylor Swift sang the first few bars of Mean. Weeks of avoiding his call culminated in a frustrated scream as I lunged for my purse, ripping my cell phone from inside. “Not a good time, Roland.”
The word barely made it out of my mouth before Zep grabbed the phone out of my hand, put it on speaker, and placed it out of my grasp. After I shot him a look, he lifted an eyebrow, almost daring me to touch it.
“A man like me doesn’t wait for things, Adelaide. We could’ve settled this days ago, but you wouldn’t return any of my calls.”
Zep eyed me curiously as I threw my head back and rolled my eyes. Staring up at the trees, I prayed for the strength to not drive to Shreveport and bury my knee so deep in his balls he’d have to repeat puberty to drop them. “What could you possibly want? Haven’t you already sent your minion to do your dirty work?”
“That was just phase one, and don’t think I haven’t noticed that a signed copy hasn’t made it back to my lawyer’s desk. Don’t fight me on this, Adelaide. You won’t win.”
“Get to the point, Roland. Is there one, or is your overwhelming charm just a gift?” Background noise filled the line, and a distinctly female voice called him back to bed. “Is fucking Brandi there?”
“Change your name,” he ordered, ignoring my accusation without a hint of emotion.
“I’m sorry, you seem to have forgotten the word, please.”
Who the hell did this asshole think he was dealing with?
Welcome to the New Addie, bitch.
“This isn’t a joke. The Bordeaux name affords the holder certain privileges, Adelaide. It carries with it a set of standards. If you insist on associating yourself with that inbred clan you call a family, then I want it back. You aren’t a Bordeaux anymore, and the benefits aren’t yours.”
“You can’t force me to do that.”
“I can do anything I want. You signed away your right to an opinion before we married.”
I honestly had no idea why I was arguing with him about something stupid as a name. I didn’t want the damn thing anyway. It was poison and just saying it made my stomach turn.
Scratch that.
I had every idea why I fought him. Yet again, Roland called the shots. Nothing about this decision was on my terms, and it pissed me off that he’d forced my hand.
“Bastard.”
“You’ve learned a lot of bad habits since returning to the swamp, haven’t you? It’s a shame that all that work I put into making you respectable unraveled in one night of slumming on your alcoholic grandmother’s porch.”
“Enough,” Zep roared, his cheeks flushed with heated anger. “Apologize to Addie.”
“I’ll do no such thing.” Roland seemed taken aback for a moment, his voice more annoyed than curious. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’ll be your worst fucking nightmare if you ever speak to her like that again. I don’t give a fuck what your last name is; you need to learn how to speak to a lady and not sound like a cock sipping frat boy. Now fuck off and don’t call again, or I promise you, I’ll answer.” Slamming his hand on the disconnect button, he threw my phone across the truck bed. “Dick.”
As Zep hurled Babs’ favorite insult at Roland, I simultaneously laughed and cried harder. “Did you just say cock sipping frat boy?”
Taking a lengthy drink from the paper bag, Zep gave an unapologetic shrug. “Your grandmother tends to get in people’s heads. It fits.” Eyeing me closely, he watched for a reaction. “Do you want to talk about it?”
My reluctant sigh held more meaning than he knew. “No. I’d like to go home now.”
As I slid off the lift gate, my head felt heavy. As stupid as it seemed to fight Roland on something as simple as a name change, giving in would only give him the green light to railroading me through this whole divorce. With a signed prenup, I already had limited legal recourse. Holding onto the small amounts of power I had was my only leverage over him. As much as I wanted to shed the Bordeaux from my name, the last thing I wanted was to make his life easy.
Suddenly exhausted, I reached for the passenger’s door, determined to not break down when a pair of hands slid around my shoulders. The moment he touched me, I flinched, then melted into the warmth of his calloused fingers on my bare skin. As he whispered my name, I broke. Every repressed emotion from Roland kicking me out, to Pappy’s death, to coming face to face with Zep after thirteen years came flooding out of me in a torrent of tears.
Turning me around, Zep pulled me hard against his chest. “I’m s
o sorry, Addie. If I’d known this was how you’d been treated for the past ten years, I’d have driven to Shreveport and brought you back myself.”
“It wasn’t always so bad.”
He reared back, regarding me with the same pitied look as before. “Addie…”
Hiding my pathetic joke of a marriage had always been a defense mechanism to save face. And where did that get me? Ten years of dinners alone and falling asleep to infomercials while Roland worked in his office or hung out with his snotty-ass friends.
Why the hell am I still protecting him?
“Okay, it was,” I admitted, covering my face. “It was always bad. It was miserable and empty, and I don’t know who I am anymore.”
Pulling my hand away from my cheeks, he studied me before giving my hand an intimate squeeze. “You’re who you’ve always been.”
A doormat.
“That’s the problem, Zep.”
I barely recognized the drastic change in his demeanor as he set the bourbon bottle aside and shifted closer. “You’re still the girl in that pink dress who walked into study hall and almost passed out when she realized I was the jock she had to tutor. You’re still the girl who brought me a chocolate cupcake and hummed Pomp and Circumstance when I passed my final exams.” Running a hand through his hair, he lowered it to his lap and stared at his open palm. “And you’re the girl who ruined me for any fucking other woman the rest of my life. Because if I couldn’t have you, Addie, no one else mattered.”
Reeling from his admission, I leaned into him, only to pull back at the last minute. Where was the man from the office? Where was the cocky son of a bitch who threw Josie Gereaux in my face, not giving a damn that my world was imploding around me?
When his name fell from my lips with a moan, I knew I had to get away from him. The moment I unlatched the door handle, every emotion possible ran through me. I was tired of being on the outside looking in, wondering when it would be my time to be happy. As the door handle clicked, I stood at a crossroads, straddling either side of a double yellow line.
Pick a lane, Addie.