Pierce Me: Satisfied by the Bad Boy

by Simone Sowood

“And this is her, the one you drove us all nuts about over the winter?” he says, eyeing Emily.

  “Papa Smurf, this is Goldie.”

  “Goldie, huh. Nice to have you with us. I still can’t believe Steel convinced you to come.”

  The comment makes her smile, and with a soft voice she says, “I was the one who had to convince him to bring me.”

  “I’ll be damned. Ain’t never heard that one before,” he says.

  “Enough of the Steel bashing, where’s our trailer?”

  “How you going to pull it?” he asks, laughing.

  “With this.” I point to the Corolla.

  “You’ve gotta be shitting me. That little thing?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “I’d sure like to. Trailer’s over there, the little blue one.”

  I grab Emily’s hand and say, “Come on, Goldie, let’s go check out our new home.”

  “We’re leaving in half an hour,” Papa Smurf calls after us.

  Pulling her across the field, various carnies I’ve known for years yell and whistle at me.

  “Fuck you all,” I shout at none of them in particular.

  “Fuck you too, asshole,” someone yells. I think it was Razor. Doesn’t matter anyway, they’d all say the same thing. So would I.

  “This is it,” I say, pulling my hand on the trailer door latch.

  It’s small, not much bigger than a bunkie room, but I don’t care. It’s all ours.

  I open the door and Emily climbs in, looking around. I enter and shut the door behind me.

  “It’s nice,” she says, her voice a bit deflated.

  “It’s great, look at this, our own table and chairs.”

  “That’s a bed?”

  “Now it is, but it turns into a table.”

  “Oh.”

  “That means we can sit in here when it rains, and don’t have to sit on the bed.”

  “I thought you’d prefer the bed in the rain.”

  “Don’t you worry about that. Bed, table. Hell, I’ll even bend you over this little stove.”

  Emily laughs, “Is that a promise?”

  “Don’t you worry, Goldie, I wouldn’t be surprised if we bust this trailer’s axle.”

  I grab her hips and grind into her. My mouth smashes against hers, my woman in our trailer, and I know where this is going to end.

  “Get the fuck out of there, we got to get ready to go,” Razor says, pounding his fist on the door.

  “Give us five minutes.”

  “That’s no way to please a woman. Goldie, he ever lets you down, you can come running to my bunkhouse any night.”

  Enraged, I let go of Emily and fly out the door. I don’t care if he is like a brother to me, these fuckers need to know she’s off limits, and I need to make that loud and clear now.

  “What did you say, asshole?”

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” Razor says, not looking behind him as he walks away.

  “I said, what did you say?”

  “You heard me, that pretty woman ever gets tired of your disappointing fucks, she needs to know where she can come get a good one.”

  Covering the ground between us as fast as I can, I lunge at Razor from behind and we go crashing to the ground. I’m on top of him, and push myself up by pushing his back down into the ground.

  Everyone in the lot has stopped what they were doing and is rushing towards us.

  “Let me make this clear now,” I yell, “Goldie is mine, and if anyone does anything to upset or disrespect her, they’re going to have to deal with me. I don’t care who you are or how long I’ve known your fucking cocksucking ass.”

  “Easy, buddy, I was just messing around,” Razor says.

  “And that includes messing around,” I bark, and shove his back to emphasis my point.

  “Fine,” Razor mutters.

  Standing, I look around at everyone and continue yelling, “And so help me God, if anyone lays a hand on her, I’ll beat your fucking head in until you don’t have a face left. Is that fucking clear?”

  I glare at various nodding faces. Some people murmur things before turning away and going back to their business.

  Good. I think I got the message across.

  At that moment, I look up and notice Emily peeking out the door, looking whiter than she did when we first got here.

  Welcome to the Jungle (Emily)

  I can’t believe that just happened. The way Steel took that guy down was crazy. He was serious when he said he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. But are the other people here really in need of a physical threat? He told me they were all cool, and that it’s the people who come to the carnival that I have to be careful of.

  “We’ve got twenty minutes, let’s go get you some clothes,” Steel says, arriving back at the trailer door.

  “I can’t buy clothes in twenty minutes.”

  “Sure you can, we walk into Walmart, you load up the cart and we leave. There’s one just down the road, we passed it on the way in.”

  Looking down at my Burberry dress, I remember the last time Maddie, Courtney and I went shopping. It took all day, and we each ended up with two outfits, not including shoes.

  That life is over now. Somehow it doesn’t even seem to matter. I’m here, I’m free to do whatever I want without being judged by all my neighbors, and I have Steel at my side.

  Even if he did just go a bit psycho on that guy and everyone else here, he’s never done anything even remotely like that before. He seems stressed about making me feel comfortable here, and I’m grateful for that.

  I give him a half smile, “Okay, we’d better go now.”

  We drive the short distance, grab a cart and enter Walmart. The smell is the first thing that hits me, it’s plastic or something. Not like the perfumed boutiques I’m used to.

  The only other time I’ve been to a Walmart was when I had to buy camping gear. I’ve never been anywhere near the clothing section. It’s kind of exciting, discovery something new.

  Steel leads me to the women’s clothing area, and begins pulling summer dresses off the racks.

  “What size are you?”

  “It depends on the store.”

  “In this store.”

  “I’m going to have to try in on.”

  “Ain’t got time.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Let me see it,” I say, and grab the dress from his hands.

  I walk over to a mirror and hold it up to be, pulling it across my hips.

  “This looks good,” I say and fling it into the cart.

  It’s actually a cute dress, a floral design with a skater skirt. Steel starts pulling more off and putting them in the cart. He doesn’t even look at them to see if they’re nice or not. Oh well, they all look pretty similar anyway.

  “How many do you need?” he asks.

  “I don’t know, seven? Plus some shorts and t-shirts, plus some leggings, and some sweaters.”

  “My shit fits in one backpack,” he says shaking his head.

  “So what, I’ll put it in the trailer. Or my trunk. Whichever, we have room for it all,” I shrug.

  “And you can afford all that?”

  “I’ve had a job for years,” I say screwing up my face. I remember him saying the same thing to me. Besides, all this is going to cost less than my dress anyway.

  “Fine.”

  “Anyway,” I hesitate, “That was pretty extreme back there, attacking that guy like that.”

  “He was fucking asking for it.”

  “Yeah, but still, you jumped on him.”

  “That’s my buddy Razor, he was trying to get a reaction out of me.”

  “Your friend?” I say, raising an eyebrow.

  “I hope it didn’t upset you or nothing.”

  “It’s just a little freaky, is all. I’m not used to seeing such physical violence.” I struggle to keep the volume of my voice down.

  “I had a strong message to send. I sent it.”

  “Should I expect to s
ee a lot of fighting?”

  “By me? Only if someone touches you.”

  “And others?” I ask, cocking my head.

  “Not much. Sometimes if someone does something stupid. Usually because a townie starts something.”

  I trace his face for truthfulness. I’m not sure if I can handle a lot of violence around me. His face is full of concern, and he strokes down my arm. He says it’s the case, and I trust him.

  It’s not like I’m about to run home now, when I haven’t even been gone twenty-four hours. My life would be worse than it was before. The town would never stop talking about me, and my parents would criticize me all day long, forever and ever.

  “And you promise me you’re not going to be violent and start attacking people, your friends or otherwise?”

  “I can’t make that promise. If someone disrespects you, you’re damn straight I’m going to beat his face in.”

  “But I’m telling you, I don’t want you to. I don’t want you fighting. I can’t handle that. It’s a step too far for me”

  “A step too far?” Steel makes a sharp intake of breath and looks at the floor. I remain silent, trying to let him know how important this is too me. “It won’t matter anyhow, no carny’s going to touch you after today anyway.”

  “Fine.”

  “Okay.”

  “Let’s get the rest of the stuff,” I say. I need everything, a hairbrush, toothbrush, you name it. We need to hurry.

  We walk past the underwear, and I grab several bras and a couple packs of panties and throw them in the cart. Speed walking through the store, I get all the toiletries while Steel stocks up on food.

  The big pharmacy sign catches my eye, and I make a mental note to figure how I get the prescription for my birth control pills renewed. I’ve only been on it a couple of weeks so have enough for a few months, and don’t need to stress about it yet, I have enough in my purse to last until the end of the month. There are too many things to think about as it is.

  Back at the camp, I stand to the side while Steel and Razor get the trailer hooked up to my car. They’re working together without any drama, and seem to know exactly what the other is doing. How were they just fighting?

  “Goldie, in the car. We’re ready to take you to your first carnival,” Steel says to me, one foot in the driver’s side.

  I’m sitting on the edge of the bed in the trailer at the carnival site. Steel is setting up but I haven’t been told where to go, or what I’m doing yet. I think they’re still trying to figure out what to do with me.

  I keep staring at my purse. My phone is in it. I haven’t looked at it since last night, but now the draw is too strong. I have to let my parents know I’m safe, at least. I don’t want them worrying about me. Not for rational reasons anyway.

  When I turn the phone on, it goes through a crazy amount of vibrating and beeping as all the text and voicemail notifications come through.

  After it’s finished, I brave looking at the screen. My mother responded to the text I sent her last night. Several times.

  -Don’t do this

  -Come home, please don’t risk trusting him

  -Your father is panicking. Please come home

  I stop reading after that. What’s the point? The only reason I would read on would be if she apologised, and she wasn’t even close. You’d think she at least would have offered to give him another chance.

  I type one last text to her.

  I’m not coming home, we’re fine. You need to learn to accept us as a couple. I’m done with this phone now, I might phone in a couple of months when you’ve calmed down. Stop worrying about me, you’re being ridiculous.

  Hovering my finger over the send button, and my heart stops when I finally push it.

  I put my finger on the power button, before realizing I need to send Courtney something.

  Thanks for your call last night. Steel and I are have gone traveling for the summer, your bff

  The trailer door opens and I switch off the phone. Steel appears in the doorway.

  “Good news, I’ve talked Papa Smurf and Cess into having you sit in on her basket toss booth.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You’re working a game, paid hard cash every week, just like me.”

  “What do I do?” They just throw me right in like that?

  “Cess will show you everything. It’s just selling. You said you wanted to sell, and now you are.”

  “Who’s Cess?”

  “The carnival princess. She’s a friend, and she’ll take care of you while I’m working.”

  My hands start trembling, and I sit on them to hide it from Steel. I’ve only ever worked in my dad’s office before, never in a store or anywhere that I had to deal with the public before. The idea is daunting.

  Steel sits down beside me and pulls my hands out from under me. He takes them in his hands, and the strength of his fingers helps me find my own strength.

  “You’ve got nothing to be nervous about, if you can make me walk away from my life of ten years, then you can convince some teenager to try to toss a softball in a peach basket.”

  I smile and lean my head against him. He always knows how to make me feel better. There’s no question, I’m happier with him. I don’t care about my parents, or his fight, I care that he can sit here beside me and make everything better. Make me better.

  “Let’s go toss some balls,” I say, standing up.

  Peace Sells (Steel)

  It’s a Saturday in mid-May, and we’re still in Mississippi. It’s raining this afternoon, and the smell of damp earth mixes with the stink of the rides. Doesn’t matter, the carnival is busy anyway. That’s the thing with these little towns. The weekend the carnival comes to town is the only thing that happens all year.

  I’m tired of standing out in the rain, and am going to swing by Emily’s booth to dry off under the awning.

  But first I’m getting her a funnel cake. I even paid for it, and am loading it up with chocolate, toffee sauce and whip cream.

  I make my way down the midway. A couple of chicks in shirts soaked from the rain and clinging to their tits are coming the other direction. They’re bleached blondes, and the taller one has tits so big that half the men she walks past crane their heads for another look.

  They see my yellow carnival t-shirt, and bee-line towards me. These girls know they can come to a carny for a mind-blowing fuck no local boy is capable of giving them.

  Last year, I’d have had both of them at once in my room. This year, all I can think of is avoiding them.

  “Hey, sexy man,” big tits says.

  I ignore them and keep on walking.

  “At least let us feel them muscles,” one of them shouts after I’m past them.

  “We’ll give you a dollar if you show us them abs of yours,” the other shouts.

  I used to pocket a pretty penny from local girls wanting to see my body. This year I’ve been turning it all down, which Razor’s been loving. He’s raking in all my turnaways, and is planning to buy a PlayStation from all the extra money.

  Not breaking my stride, I ignore them and arrive at Emily’s booth. She’s standing there, somehow managing to make the yellow carnival t-shirt sexy.

  “Hey, sexy,” I say, sitting on the counter. “I brought you something.”

  Emily comes over to me, and leans in for a kiss.

  “God, that smells good,” Emily says, breathing in the funnel cake.

  “Don’t suppose you brought me one of them,” Cess says, tossing a softball in her hand.

  “Next time,” I say.

  “You said that last time,” Cess says.

  “How’s it going, you selling any?” I ask Emily.

  “She’s a natural. Ain’t you, Goldie?” Cess says.

  “Not surprised. That pretty face could get a man to do anything,” I say.

  “It worked on you,” Emily says and laughs.

  She takes a big bite of the funnel cake, her eyes close as the flavor
fills her mouth. That’s the look I’m used to seeing in our trailer, not from a bite of food.

  A big, blond dude slaps five dollars on the counter. He’s with a buddy, a guy only slightly shorter who’s wearing a polo shirt. They look like the kind of people I’d expect Emily would be related to.

  Cess snaps up the money and holds out three balls to him.

  “I want them from her,” he says, nodding to Emily.

  My attention is drawn from Emily’s pretty face to the idiot trying to win an impossible game.

  “She’s busy, you gotta take them from me,” Cess says.

  “I said, I want them from her,” he says.

  The dude’s face coats in a smug smile as he stares at Cess. The back of my neck prickles. This guy had better drop it, if he knows what’s good for him.

  “Your choice, you take my balls, or you forfeit your money,” Cess says.

  “Oh, I think that pretty girl wants to give me the balls.”

  It pisses me off, but I know how common fuckers like these guys are. I take another bite of funnel cake and wait to see how Emily handles the situation.

  “Now careful boys, you wouldn’t want my boyfriend here to pulverize your pretty-boy faces now, would you?” Emily says.

  “He’s your boyfriend? Sweetheart, you can do a lot better than him. Let me show you all the things a real man can do.” He pauses and stares at me. “Not some scumbag like him.”

  Enough. I slip off the counter and ball my fist, intending to knock the mother-fucker down with a right hook.

  “This is nothing, we get at least one of him an hour,” Emily says, a worried look in her eyes.

  “Don’t mean he doesn’t need his head kicking in.”

  A crowd has gathered round the booth. Everything inside of me is telling me to beat the guy into next Tuesday, but I decide it’ll be more fun to humiliate him in front of the town. He’ll be the laughing stock for years to come.

  “Tell you what, I’ll give you six balls, no charge. If you get one in, good things will happen.”

  “Good things like what?” he says.

  “Good things like I won’t break your faces,” I say, and take another bite of the funnel cake.

  “And I’ll give you the balls you paid for,” Emily says, laughing. She knows it’s impossible for them to win. Emily walks back to the baskets, getting the balls. But I know the real thing she’s doing is making sure the angles on the baskets are set to impossible.