“Alright, damn,” he fussed and pushed away from my truck.
“I’ll make Greyden refuse you at the bar and I will ask Saucer to lock you out of the liquor store,” I threatened.
“Do it. That’s what it’ll take,” he admitted and headed for his room without another word. I watched as the lost soul stomped across the lot to the empty room. After his door slammed shut I allowed my gaze to shift to Murphy’s car. I fought between the ideas of leaving and knocking on his door to find out what kept him from work today. One side of me wanted him to think I didn’t really care. The other side of me did care. I hated that side and in an attempt to ignore that side, I turned on heel to leave. Just as my boot crunched against the rocks beneath it, I heard a door behind me open.
“Jack, darling, a little less teeth next time, okay,” I heard a woman’s voice say. I turned to look over my shoulder and spied a tall slender woman with curly chestnut hair and an over done tan standing in the doorway of 112. She had the neck of her red sweater pulled down as she examined her shoulder. Letting the sweater go, she raked her hand through her mess of long curls and smiled as Murphy swept into the doorway and gathered her up in his arms. Their lips met and he kissed her roughly. She whimpered against his lips and he smiled as he pulled away and ungracefully let her go. She stumbled back and shook her head. “You’re such an ass, Jack,” she said as she headed for a sharp looking silver BMW. I fucking hate those cars.
“Yet you keep coming back,” he grumbled and leaned against the doorframe with one arm as his eyes followed her. Open jeans hung on his hips revealing his flawless pelvic lines. Without a shirt on I could see a tattoo on his arm. A huge black wolf howled up at a red moon against grey clouds from the crook of his arm up to his shoulder. The artist was talented; it was very realistic. I tore my attention away from his ink when I heard her car start up. My eyes cut towards the car which I hoped was heading for Route Six today and then back to Murphy’s room. He took a step back and started to close the door but stopped as he surveyed the lot and spotted me.
With my arms crossed, I arched a brow and turned towards my truck. I heard a frustrated growl and then someone jogging across the rocky lot. I pulled open the door of my truck and it was quickly shoved shut as Murphy reached around me.
“Where are you going,” he asked in his collected husky tone. I turned to stand toe to toe with him.
“Home. I had to drop a friend off. I need to get back to the shop. Someone has to work today,” I quipped and tried to open my door again but he held it closed with his strong grip.
“I’m still hungry,” he nearly purred and flashed a dark grin.
“Then why don’t you order some more cheap takeout,” I asked and glanced in the direction that the woman had driven off in. He held his cocky grin and pushed away from the truck.
“Jealous,” he whispered.
“Hardly, Jack…” I replied and climbed into the cab. I had no place to be jealous. I am a taken woman and I have no rein over him. I shut the door and he moved out of the way as I cranked up and headed out of the lot. Instead of turning left to go home, I headed right…right to the bar.
Chapter 8
It was shockingly a little busy at the bar that evening. I sat at my table in the back with my feet crossed up on the table top and my beer cradled in my lap. Greyden made his rounds and cleared tables off after a few people left and even more came in. I could tell by the hyper buzz of conversations that word of the Yates fight had gotten out. I pressed my lips together and talked to no one.
“Baby, come sit at the bar and keep me company. I feel like I haven’t seen much of you lately,’ Greyden said in passing. I obliged and sauntered to the bar to steal a stool from someone who had slipped away to talk to the table of our local pot dealers. I carried the stool to the far end of the bar and claimed my seat. The television screen was still haunted with shots of grizzly murders along Routes 6 and 375. They were finally going to place as many patrol cars out as they possibly could and manage a few check points too. The death toll was at eleven now and they we calling the case the ET Serial Killer. A stretch of Route 375 was known as the Extraterrestrial Highway thanks to Area 51. I arched a brow at the name and shook my head.
“Here she comes,” I heard someone say from across the room. I was sure I knew who they were talking about and sure enough, Mrs. Yates sauntered in.
“Time to find a new fuck buddy,” I mumbled and rolled my eyes. I wondered how a woman could show her face when she knew everyone was talking about her. If I was in her shoes I would be holed up at home trying to make it up to my husband. Or would I? I stopped and thought about my current situation while I watched Greyden work. I wanted Murphy more than anything right now and I had to ask myself if I was willing to give up what I already had in order to have it? I wasn’t ready to answer that yet. I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for either. Even though I had not fucked Murphy, I was still, by definition, a cheater. I let my head fall to my hand and rubbed my temples. If Greyden ever knew about the body shop he would walk. That’s all it would take, I was sure. Had Greyden been any other man I would have cut him loose already. But Greyden was…well, Greyden.
I’d have to tell him. It wasn’t my nature to keep something like this from him. I would just have to find the right time…which didn’t really feel like any time. I rubbed my eyes and then sat up straight. My body language wasn’t showing that all was well in my neighborhood. I puckered my lips and casually watched the crowd. Mrs. Yates was at the pothead table. I watched her whisper away into a young man’s ear and spied her hand vanish beneath the table into his lap. The young man stiffened and let out a nervous laugh. He was obviously uncomfortable. I would be too.
Ten swept in and blew Murphy in with it. After watching him stride in and sit two stools away from me, I remembered to breathe. I kept my side to him in an attempt to ignore him but he was radiating already and it was hard to tune out. I emptied another bottle and Greyden quickly replaced it. I realized I would need ten more when I saw Greyden stop to talk to Murphy. I listened as Greyden asked him about work at the shop and Murphy made a comment about loving it and appreciating me giving him the job. He turned and nodded towards me with a friendly smile that reeked of bullshit.
Greyden was called away and Murphy turned to stare at me. I rolled my eyes and slipped off my stool. He wouldn’t be able to follow me, it would look suspicious. I leaned over the bar and kissed Greyden goodbye and made my exit. Fuck Murphy. I wondered how I could show such distaste for someone I wanted so badly. Love Hate relationships; got to love them. I let the door slam behind me and took my time heading towards my truck, certain he would not follow. My face tensed when I heard the door open and close behind me and quick footsteps in my direction. I turned on heel to face him.
“Murph…” I started but fell silent when Mrs. Yates came face to face with me. I braced myself; sure she was ready to fight. “Can I help you with something,” I asked coolly. I was ready to be slapped and instead she took a long deep breath and then burst into tears.
“Where is my husband,” she cried softly with her face hidden away in her hands. Her shoulders shook and she let out a loud sob. I placed a hand on her shoulder and smirked.
“I’m not buying it. You can stop now.” She stopped and lifted her head to look around and rolled her eyes.
“I can’t get shit for sympathy from you,” she bitched and shrugged her shoulders.
“Why do you want it? You are sleeping around behind your husband’s back! And he was my Pop’s best friend. What do you expect,” I asked and backed up to open the tailgate of my truck and take a seat.
“You’ve seen him. You know exactly why I do it. I have needs and Mr. Whiskey Dick can’t get the job done,” she spouted defensively.
“Buy a fucking dildo. Get the man some help,” I replied.
“Its not the same and he is too far gone for any help that I could get him around here.”
“Wrong,” I said butting in. “I jus
t dropped him off and severed all of his supply ties. He is going to be forced to sober up. I need him sober.”
“You think he will. He will find a way to get hammered. Why do you need him sober anyways,” she asked arching a brow at me.
“I want to talk to him about the guys who killed your son and my dad. I want the details of the beating afterwards. I have a feeling that if one showed his face here in town recently the others may follow.”
“I thought about that too,” she admitted and kicked at something on the ground.
“You think,” I asked with mocking shock and she flashed a sarcastic smile.
“I was there for it all. The beating, that is. There were four of them and about twelve of us. They strung them up and started asking them questions. When they wouldn’t talk they slit their faces and beat them mercilessly. I noticed they all had the same tattoo on the side of their necks. It looked like a huge paw print of some sort. After the guys showed they would rather die than talk, the crew slit them from here to here,” she said pointing from her lower abdomen up to her chin. They didn’t seem to bleed like we expected them to. Not quickly. So they were left there to hang and drain. We went back two days later and they were gone. The ropes had been slashed and there were no bodies to be found.”
I sat quietly thinking it all over. How could anyone survive an attack like that? Well, as of right now I only knew that one of them did survive. I sat puzzled and shook my head.
“Yeah so you know how surprised I was when one of them walked in my store. Thing is…I have a confession. I knew one of them. I had sort of had a run in with one of them here the week before the shooting. He said his name was Darius. We only had a one night fling.”
“You fucked him?!”
“You know me,” she said and shrugged. She had to hate herself after the shootings. I could now see why she was in self destruct mode. I sighed heavily and made note of the name Darius. I didn’t ask her for more information. This bitch never did much talking before she spread her legs. I was sure she didn’t ask him anything that would matter now.
“I need to leave,” I said and hopped off the bed of my truck as an idea struck me. “Thanks for talking to me about all of this. Maybe once Yates is cleaned up he will be a better man for you,” I said but didn’t promise. She simply nodded and headed for her own car. I climbed into the cab and before I knew it, I was fifteen miles past my own house and heading into the desert with my Smith and Wesson in my lap.
There was a place about twenty miles out where some of the rough and tough liked to gather with bonfires, huge trucks and fights. Normally I would avoid a place like this but tonight I was on edge and felt like if there was a good place to find the worse kind of men, it would be there. I eyed the trailer parks that littered the desert along the way. There were very few houses in this town, I was happy mine was one of them. Most of the trailers were from the early sixties and falling apart at the seams. Nothing wrong with a mobile home; their owners just didn’t take care of them.
As I approached the wide open range, I could see about seven barrels set ablaze. More than likely this was where the Young brother’s had brought the body to cremate it. What was scary was that no one would have questioned their actions. Lucky for me I would know most of the people out there and wouldn’t seem as out of place as a total stranger. I parked on the outskirts and grabbed a half empty vodka bottle from under the seat. I thought if I appeared a little boozed up I would seem like more of a good time. People will talk a little more when they think you will forget.
I tucked my 9 mm in my jeans against my back and pulled on my leather jacket that lay in the seat next to me. Pocketing my keys, my boots sailed over the sands with a mission and finally I was at the outer most ring of hell. My eyes slid to the dancing flames of the closest burning barrel. I stood with the open vodka bottle at my side and my long bangs falling in my eyes. I stood still and listened for several minutes; remaining unnoticed. From the left came talk of illegal firearms coming in next week and to the right I could hear one man threatening another for cheating in a race for pink slips. No one ever played fair out here so I wondered why anyone would put pink slips on the line. Drunk fucks.
I cast my eyes away from the fire as I heard engines roar and watched as too ridiculously lifted trucks kicked up sand and lurched forward heading towards rocky terrain and a finish line several yards beyond it. The trucks jolted all over the place as their tires hit the rocks and climbed them like ungraceful beings. I turned away without seeing who won and headed for a rickety looking set of bleachers. I didn’t know if I could trust sitting on them without the structure collapsing so I took at seat on the bottom bench. After watching several groups of raised voices I had managed a count of twenty-six heads. I knew twenty of them and one spotted me.
“Mmmm. Miss Nasty has joined us. Bitch, what are you doing out here,” chimed a familiar voice. I smirked and turned to see Charlie approaching the bleachers. Tonight his tall sleek body was dressed in tight dark jeans and a perfectly tailored dress shirt with all the buttons left open to reveal his trim and toned torso. “How is my car coming along, baby?”
“It looks like it has been shot up right now. I had to cut a few rust patches out. Murphy is working on the guts right now,” I replied and crossed my legs as I leaned back on the bench behind us. I looked him over and smirked. “Smooth as a baby’s bottom,” I commented and he nodded.
“Yes, baby, they like it smooth,” he purred and glanced back over his shoulder at a group of rugged men that I would have never have guessed to be gay. “So is it that grease monkey that brings you out here,” he asked and arched a brow. “Trouble?”
“No, no. Well, maybe. But that’s not why I am out here.” My reply brought his hands to his mouth and is eyes widened.
“Miss Dakota, you hussy,” he shook his head. “I don’t blame you for wanting a bite of that man though. God damn he is some kind of dangerous. You know how I like them…” he winked at me and crossed his legs. “Greyden know anything about this,” he asked arching a brow. I shook my head and looked away. “It’s a damn shame that someone came up with monogamy. Your little secret is safe with me as long as you tell me all the details,” he smirked and placed a hand on my knee. “Girl, you know I love your skanky ass.”
I smiled at him and nodded. My eyes swept the grounds again and nothing seemed to catch my attention. Turning back to Charlie I noticed him staring at someone in a small circle about ten yards from us.
“Who is that,” I asked and tried to figure out which one he was eyeing.
“Bitch, don’t ask don’t tell. That’s a rule here,” he hissed playfully and I laughed.
“Your gay ass screams queen! No one has to ask you,” I quipped and he licked his lips.
“I just don’t like to out all of my lovers. Some of these men will gut a queer in a hot minute. Lucky for me, my gaydar is some top quality shit and I steer clear of them haters,” he said with the sass of ten gay men. I laughed lightly and deserted the quest to guess which man was plugging him later tonight. “So why are you really here,” he finally asked coming full circle.
“I came to observe,” I offered and he rolled his eyes telling me it wasn’t enough for him. “Have you noticed any new strangers? Paw tattoos on their necks,” I asked quietly.
“Paws,” he asked himself and then shook his head at me. “I don’t think so. Then again, I’m not usually checking out a man’s neck. At least not that one,” he replied and placed a hand on his inner thigh suggestively. “I will keep an eye out for you though. I see everyone that walks through here,” he offered and I was happy to accept. We sat quietly for a few moments and then he sat on the edge of the bench about to stand. “Well, slut, I have to get back to work. This bitch has bills to pay.” I arched a brow at him and he smiled. “This ass aint free!”
I grinned as I watched him saunter off and rejoin the small collection of men close by. Hooker. My gaze lingered away and was captured by an increasing group in
the distance. I could hear yelling and grunting. I was sure there was a fight going on. I witnessed a man swing his arm wide and smash his fist into the side of another man’s head. Ouch. People were holding cash over their heads as they watched and placed bets. I wouldn’t take part in any of that. I started to wonder how safe it was for me to be out here alone. The cool metal against my lower back made me feel a little safer and I remained seated.
After a few moments I felt someone approach from the side of the bleachers. It was familiar warmth but the breathing was wrong. Murphy wasn’t a heavy breather. I kept myself from turning to see who it was as they circled the bleachers and came into view. It wasn’t Murphy. This man was 5’7” with boots on and abnormally built. Can we say “steroids”? Dressed in jeans and a fitted long sleeved black shirt, I was sure he was proud of himself. Most of the men out here were tall and I was sure this man bulked up to feed his Napoleon complex. Platinum hair hung over his dark eyes in damp shag, looking like he was fresh out of the shower. He was handsome but there was something cheesy about him.
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