Silverbow

by Shannon Simmons

  CHAPTER 7

  I lay down on the creeper and pulled myself under a beat up 1980 Ford pickup. After I had the oil draining, I slid out and grabbed a headlight adjuster to fix the truck’s cockeyed lights that I had noticed when I pulled it into the stall. Murphy was at the other end of the shop lost under the Bel Air. So far things were no different than they had been before our fight yesterday. He was cold again and I wasn’t doing a good job of ignoring it.

  I dropped the hood on the truck after the lights were even and checked on the oil below; not ready. I headed to the supply cabinets and grabbed a new filter. My eyes met Murphy’s as I turned and we stood toe to toe. He reached for something on the top self over my shoulder, leaning close enough that his intoxicating smell flirted with me; a faint woodsy cologne and leather. I took deep breath and kept my eyes on his as his arm slipped around my waist to steady us both as he collected a box off the top shelf. His static warmth began to web around me and I felt myself completely relax in his grip. I suddenly felt hypnotically drunk. My eyes fluttered as I tried to keep my eyes on his. I witnessed a split second of confusion in his eyes and then his flawless lips curled at the corners. I closed my eyes as he lowered his lips to my ear and I could feel his warm breath at my lobe.

  “I think the drain is done,” he whispered and I felt the heat slip away like a warm blanket snatched off on a cold morning. I managed to not react to his withdrawal. Instead, I played his game. My lower lip was held hostage between my teeth and my eyes lifted slowly to meet his while my hands slowly slid to his chest and pushed him back a step. I slipped my grip around my back to remove his hand that was still resting at my waist. With my flesh touching his, the core rattling current buzzed to life between us. I tightened my jaw as I fought its seduction. He inhaled and exhaled deeply and I watch his eyes fall away from mine and to his arm in my grip. The heat flickered for a moment as if he has lost his control for a moment. I moved way from him; leaving him standing alone at the cabinet for a minute. I can play too, asshole.

  I finished up the oil change and called the owner. The truck was picked up at noon and that left me with no further appointments for the day and one Bel Air that needed to have the rust removed. I grabbed a dry erase pen and began pacing around the car. I marked off panels we would have to cut out and replace. I could chemically treat it but with a classic like this I didn’t want to risk it. Luckily we only had three major areas to work on. We’d have to remove the rusted area all together or it would bubble under the new paint job. Charlie would be upset with me for a slack job. While Murphy worked on the guts, I could at least get the body prepped.

  Murphy was on the porch swing taking a smoke break. He had been quietly watching me since our little run-in earlier. I avoided looking his way but I could feel his eyes on me. I enjoyed being visually molested by the man. Before too long, he was on his feet heading in my direction. I replaced the cap on the pen and tossed into a toolbox.

  “Did you place my order yet,” he asked as he approached and I nodded.

  “It will take a week they said. Being out here in Egypt sucks sometimes,” I added and he nodded in agreement. “Until then, you can remove these areas and we can get to sanding.”

  “Yes, boss,” he replied and winked at me. I turned my back to him and headed for the body shop out back to see if I had the replacement sheet metal panels we would need to replace the areas we would have to cut out. I unlocked the door and suddenly felt him at my back. His hand moved down my arm to the door knob and he turned it. The door opened to a large dark single garage. I slid inside with him at my heels and the door closed behind us, sealing out the afternoon light. My eyes had not yet adjusted to the light when I felt him circle me and stand before me. I could feel him bring his lips close to mine and I tried to move closer to kiss him but he remained slightly out of reach.

  I felt the zipper on the front of my coveralls being tugged open. I reached out for him but he moved and my hands fell through the emptiness. I felt his body heat at my back then and the shoulders of the uniform lift and begin to be peeled from my torso. Slipping off my arms and exposing my thin white tank top the coveralls rested loosely around my hips. A strong arm snaked around me and pulled me against him while his free hand traced the pulse of my neck. I let my head rest against his shoulder and my eyes closed as our static hum enveloped us. Our physical touch was intoxicating. I could feel his hot breath at my ear and a tender kiss at my lobe before he turned his face into my neck and took a deep and long breath of me.

  I could feel the rumble in his chest against my back and the sudden graze of teeth at my neck. Strength and control began to seep away from me. I felt my coverall’s fall to the floor at my feet yet the cool air never touched my exposed flesh thanks to the human heater at my backside. I felt his fingers trace the strap of my red cotton thong at my hip. Hungry lips painted my flesh with blush. A hushed growl rumbled with need and almost made me whimper.

  He spun me around in his arms and nuzzled me gently before pressing his lips to mine. The vibration between our lips made it seem as though our flesh had begun to mend together. A magnetic pull begged us not to separate. My condition became nearly unbearable. I wanted him to ravish me then and there. There was no attention to consequences or second thoughts. I just wanted to be with him. The pulsing air around us seemed to take on the same thickness that I had imagined in the kitchen with Greyden the other night and I started to find it hard to breathe.

  I felt a ripple in his radiating heat. He was letting go of his hesitations and his heat hit me like a sandstorm. I took a deep stuttering breath and it seemed to excite him that I was just as effected by all of this as he was. Suddenly…his breathing stopped and his lips did too. He pulled his mouth away from mine but kept me tangled in his arms. Confusion set in. Had I done something wrong?

  “Murphy,” I whispered as my eyes opened and searched for his face in the dark.

  “I can’t be the one,” he whispered so quietly that I could barely hear him.

  “Okay then,” I said as I peeled myself from his arms and dressed myself again. Anger set in and I wanted to punch him. How could he deny and refuse all of this? He couldn’t be the one? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? The sea of endless unanswered questions was starting to pull me under. I had to leave the room or boil over and I didn’t want him to see me overreact. With my hand on the knob, I opened the door and the afternoon light spilled in.

  I finally glanced back over my shoulder to see Murphy had taken a seat on one of the work bench stools. With one foot propped up on the stool’s footrest and his thick frame leaning back on one elbow against the table, he offered a sedate glance. He showed no anger, no disappointment and no restlessness. He looked numb and it angered me even more that he could shut himself off from me with such ease. I bit into my bottom lip and reached for the light switch. I stopped when I heard a soft growl of disapproval and I left the room dark. Making my exit, the door shut heavily behind me and I headed back for the main garage. I had already forgotten what I had come to the body shop for and I didn’t care one bit.

  Not long after I left the body shop he reappeared working on the Bel Air and did so for a couple of hours. I kept my distance and let him work. Not to mention I was trying to let myself cool off. Guilt should have smacked into me by now…but it hadn’t. I sat in the porch swing watching the shop for some time. I savored the visions of his strength in the garage and his rugged grace. While I should have been thinking about hurting Greyden’s feelings, I was taking mental pictures of Murphy’s concentrating face and the way his forearms rippled when he applied pressure to his work.

  It was almost five in the afternoon when he called it a day and locked up the shop for me. My eyes followed him across the yard and towards his car. No words were exchanged but I knew I would see him tomorrow. He climbed into his Chevy and fired her up. I inspected him from afar as he slid on his cheap sunglasses and rolled his shoulders back into the seat. Rolling the windows down, he reversed
out of my driveway and pulled into the road. Turning to look at me, he nodded almost solemnly and then tore off leaving nothing but dust in his wake. As I watched his car vanish I felt a sudden touch at my cheek. The static fingers seemed to tenderly trace my jaw line and then fade away. I remained on the porch for a half an hour in hopes that he would come back. No such luck.

  Greyden arrived at six o’clock with a huge pizza box and a six pack of brew. He was in a relatively good mood and I found myself wondering where karma was hiding. I grabbed a slice of pizza and dropped down into the couch beside him as he rambled on about a boring day at the fence line. He got my attention when he brought up the body.

  “The Young Brothers came into the bar last night. Just wanted you to know that they cleaned up Yates’s truck and the body is gone,” he informed me in a hushed tone as if someone would hear us way out here.

  “Good,” I exhaled and then turned to face him. “I pulled his wallet before they carried him off,” I admitted. “He came from Vegas; at least that’s what the driver’s license says. I don’t really want to trust that but I have no other leads.”

  “Give it a week or two. I bet his boys come looking for him. That’s if they aren’t already here. There were two more murders on Route Six last night. Blood is running thick in the air lately,” he replied. I nodded and finished my pizza crust I was sure the cop’s still didn’t have a lead. They wanted to peg it as an animal attack but what animal stops cars, kills its passengers and then steals their cash? It didn’t add up. I tried to imagine the same truck of murderers that killed my father traveling down Route Six, stopping cars, releasing an attack animal on the poor victims while they robbed them. Anything was possible.

  We sat watching some corny zombie movie on a fuzzy channel and said little else. Greyden reached out and pushed my long blonde bangs from my eyes and smiled at me. He held out his arm and allowed me to lean into his side. With his arm around me, my mind exhausted and the comfort of the world’s ugliest couch…sleep found me. I spent the first night in a long time not dreaming. For that, I was thankful.

  I shot up in the bed at eight on the dot the next morning. The house was silent and the bed next to me was empty. I sat in a sleepy haze for a moment or two and then climbed out of bed. After my shower I slunk downstairs for a mug of coffee and a seat at the table. Grabbing my appointment book I sighed. Today was blank. Judging by my regular Wednesdays, I wouldn’t have any walk-ins either. I wasted a whole cup of coffee just staring at the blank page.

  I opened up the shop and hung out in the office for a while. My eyes nearly bore a hole into the clock on the wall while I waited for Murphy to arrive. When ten rolled around I gave into my gut feeling that he wouldn’t be showing today. When eleven came I knew it was a reality. I shuffled into the garage and began working on the rust spots of the Bel Air. It took me the rest of the day to cut out the areas I had marked the day before and begin a little sanding. Keeping myself chin deep in work kept my mind off of Murphy and Greyden. Though, it did not succeed at luring my thoughts away from the murders and the commotion at the bar the other night.

  Visions of the dead man’s jack-o-lantern sliced mouth raced through my mind. The scars were thick and pink. I imagined Yates on top of the guy three years ago, slicing in a mad rage. If it had been me, I would have just slit his throat. I wondered how anyone honestly survived the beating and punishment that Yates and his crew delivered. Suddenly, I wanted to talk to Yates. I wanted all the details. I wanted to know about what happened three years ago and I wanted to know if he knew anything else that I didn’t. Since today was slow at the shop and Murphy was no where to be seen; I’d pay Mr. Yates a visit.

  I wrapped up the body work and locked up. After changing into jeans, a long sleeved black shirt and my black jacket, I climbed into my truck and headed towards town. I’d stop in at the store and check with Mrs. Yates on his whereabouts. She’d know, she always knew. That’s how she got away with her affairs. Half way to the Strip two bikers passed me and I was unable to recognize their bikes or gear. If they were regulars in town I would have been able to tell and they would have waved. Everyone knew the town mechanic. I bit into my lip and toyed with the thought of turning around. By the time I figured out that I wanted to know who they were, I was on the Strip and witnessing a mess.

  Outside of the small grocery store were Mr. Yates and Mr. Hines. Yates had the school teacher by the neck against the storefront and Hine’s was turning all shades of purple. I parked quickly, jumped out and hauled ass in their direction.

  “Stop, Yates! You are going to kill him,” I yelled and Yates dropped him. Hines crumpled up on the sidewalk at his attacker’s feet. “What the fuck is going on,” I asked and turned to see Mrs. Yates fly out the doors.

  “He was all over me,” she yelled and pointed at Hines. “He tried to rape me,” she cried and I tightened my jaw.

  “I walked in on this fucker with his cock out and his hands on my wife,” he growled as he kicked the weak man in the stomach. Hines moaned and curled up.

  “I’ve been fucking her for two weeks,” Hines managed to choke out and Mr. Yates kicked him again.

  “He is lying, baby,” shouted the adulterous whore. Mrs. Yates reached out and placed her hands around her husbands arm and tried to pull him away from Hines. Mr. Yates shook her hands away and glared at her with deadly intensions.

  “Fucking cunt, you’ve been fucking this whole town for years now. I’m a drunk, not stupid. I know I am not a perfect husband and I have a habit that will surely be the death of me. But you have everything; a big house, a nice car, jewels and designer bullshit. You ask for it and I all but kill to give it to you. My only son was taken from me. Our baby girl has left for college, never wants to come home again and I am left with an empty fucking house because you are out with another man’s dick in your ass. Its no wonder I fucking drink,” he yelled. Mrs. Yates took several steps back and placed her back against the wall.

  “It’s a tight ass too,” Hines whispered with a painful smile on his face. Yates’s picked up his boot over Hines’s head and would have crushed his skull if I had not lurched forward and knocked Mr. Yates to the ground.

  “Do you have a fucking death wish,” I asked Hines as I stood between him and the huge man who pulled himself to the store wall and sat with his arms resting on his knees and his face down. I could smell whiskey on Yates and sighed. “Get the fuck out of here, Hines.” He didn’t hesitate and stood. He flicked his nasty tongue at Mrs. Yates and she tried her best to ignore him but I was sure her cunt was in a twist over all of this. She had a world of drama on her hands now, she was ecstatic.

  I held a hand out to Mr. Yates to help him up and he shook his head. “Get that whore out of here,” he said and swatted towards his wife. Turning on heel to face her, I pointed at the shop doors and gave her a look that sent her crying into the store. She was in for more than she could handle and reality just popped her with a Mack truck. I’d love to be a fly on their wall tonight. Finally he took my hand and let me help him up. The big man dusted himself off and lifted his tired eyes to mine.

  “Thanks, I guess I don’t need a second man’s blood on my hands in the same week,” he grumbled. I nodded and shoved my hands into the back pockets of my jeans. My guess was that right now was not a good time to talk to him about the murderers. I would hold on tight to that conversation for another time.

  “Do you want me to take you home,” I asked him and he shook his head.

  “Can you take me to the inn,” he asked instead. I guess he wouldn’t be going home at all tonight. I wouldn’t either. I nodded and we headed for my truck. As we pulled away from the store Mrs. Yates walked back out and tossed her hands in the air. I don’t know what she thought she was going to accomplish with showing her face again right now. Her husband just lifted his hand and shot her the bird as we left to find him a vacant room. The ride was spent in silence but I had a feeling it was greatly appreciated. I pulled into the parking lot of the inn
and cut off the truck. I motioned for him to stay and I climbed out of the cab.

  As I walked through the lot I noticed that Murphy’s car was parked in front of room 112 at the other end of the single floor building. I tightened and relaxed my jaw as I shoved the door to the office open and proceeded to get a room for Mr. Yates. I paid for a week with the money I collected off the dead murderer the other night and collected the key. Mr. Yates stood leaning against my truck with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth when I returned.

  “Its yours for a week. I suggest you sober up some. I’m going to need to talk to you soon. I would like for you to be a little better off when that time comes,” I said as I handed him the key and pointed at room 104. “Can you do that for me,” I asked and he kicked around at a rock on the pavement. “I’m not going to play games with you, Yates. I need you to sober up. I have never asked you for anything. I need you in your right mind so I can talk to you about some serious shit,” I scolded. His hands finally went up in surrender.