Up in Smoke

by T. M. Frazier

  “You’re not afraid are you?” I ask, just verifying that what I see in her is really there because I still can’t really believe it.

  She’s little and cute and a kid, but she’s the fucking devil himself, and if I were Mugs, I’d shut the fuck up before the ground opened up and swallows him whole. I wait for hesitation on her part. Any sign that this really isn’t what she wants but I get nothing

  She bites her lips again and rocks on her feet.

  “You high or something?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow and ignoring another call from Mugs to hurry up and kill her. One last attempt to make sure what I’m seeing is real.

  “No,” she whispers, and for some reason I believe her.

  I raise my gun, again aiming it at her head. I take another step toward her, closing the gap between us and roughly pressing the barrel of the gun against her forehead.

  She doesn’t move. She also doesn’t stop smiling.

  I holster my gun and begin to laugh. I look her in the eyes. “I recognize that look,” I say, scratching at my forearm. “Never seen it in a chick before, though. Especially not one so fucking young. Only ever seen it in guys. Guys like me.”

  “Guys like you?” she asks, scrunching her forehead.

  “Yeah, guys like me. The bad guys.” I crack my knuckles.

  “Please,” she begs, “Bad, good…” She shakes her head. “I just have to.”

  I keep my eyes on her and call back to Mugs, “The girl’s right. She ain’t a witness if she does it herself.” I say, moving around to her side.

  We both look to Mugs who rolls his eyes and lights a smoke.

  “Wow, I knew you liked some fucked up shit, Smoke, but a sixteen-year-old who begs strangers to let her kill motherfuckers?” He scoffs. “I hope you two deviants will be really fucking happy together.”

  “No, that’s not what…” the girl starts to argue.

  “You don’t gotta explain shit to him,” I tell her. I lower my voice to a whisper and my head to her ear. “Mugs is a fucking moron. He doesn’t get it.”

  He doesn’t see what I see.

  “I heard that,” Mugs says. “And what I get is that the longer we’re out here, the higher the chances are of getting caught. I mean, I hate to kill and run, but we gotta fucking go.” Mugs turns his gun on Jerry. Without warning he pulls the trigger, sending a spray of dirt raining down into the hole.

  “What the fuck?” I roar.

  The girl falls to the ground and wraps her arms around her knees, not out of fear, but disappointment, as if she’s devastated and can’t even stay upright.

  I kneel beside her. “You okay, kid?” I tip her chin up to meet mine. She gazes up at me with a wild look before the tears began to spill.

  I pull her against my chest. “I’ll take care of you,” I whisper into her hair. I feel possessive over her. Like she was always meant to find me. Not in a sexual way, but in a way that makes her feel like instant family. She’s blood to me, now. There’s no turning back.

  I want to show her that she isn’t alone. That she isn’t the only one who feels or doesn’t feel the way others do. There wasn’t anyone like that around for me growing up and I’m determined to be that person for her.

  “I’ll help you. Would you like that?” I ask.

  Through her tears she nods, accepting my offer although not completely understanding what it was she was agreeing to.

  “Just kidding,” Mugs says suddenly. He stabs his shovel down. He walks over to where we’re crouched on the ground. “Look for yourself. He’s still alive. Just had to know you were serious.”

  “You’re a fucking prick, Mugs,” I spit.

  “Yeah, I know. Now let’s hurry the fuck up and get out of here. I got shit to do.”

  “What’s your name, kid?” I ask, keeping her against me.

  She doesn’t answer right away. “Rage.” She finally says with an audible swallow. “My name is Rage.”

  “Rage. I like it.” I say, offering her my gun. “Ever shoot one of these before?” I pull her off the ground.

  “No,” she admits.

  “Stand here,” I direct her in front of me. I place the gun in her hand. “Take this, hold it just how I’m holding it now.”

  She does what I say and her hand drops like the gun is a lot heavier than she expected it to be.

  I push her forward, walking her toward where Jerry’s crouched figure is huddled in the hole. “Aim like this, and then squeeze the trigger,” I say softly. “You sure you want to do this?”

  “Yes,” she answers. No hesitation.

  I have no doubt she’s telling the truth, but I feel like I gotta warn her once last time. “’Cause this is life-changing shit right here. You do this and things won’t be the same ever again. This is the kind of shit that haunts grown men at night.” I pause. “The kind of shit that has them begging Jesus for forgiveness.”

  “I don’t need forgiveness,” she whispers, squeezing the trigger.

  Jerry’s one eye stays open. The life that had been there seconds before, now gone. His stare completely blank. The dirt underneath him darkens as his blood seeps out from the fresh wound on the side of his head.

  She stays stone still, breathing hard, staring at what’s left of Jerry’s head with wild excitement.

  “Oh, yeah?” I ask. “Everyone seeks forgiveness sooner or later, Princess. Why not you?” I hold out my hand for my gun, she hands it over. It’s still warm.

  She turns to face me and shrugs. “Because, I’m not sorry.”

  “Good, that’s the first lesson,” I say, suddenly turning my gun on Mugs and pulling the trigger in quick succession. Three bullets explode into his chest, sending him teetering back over the hole’s edge until he falls backward into it, his body joining Jerry’s.

  What I forgot to tell the now very dead Mugs was that Bear knew he’d raped the girl first before Jerry had taken his turn. My job wasn’t to return one body to the dirt tonight, but two.

  “What’s the second lesson?” Rage asks, staring at the gun as I change the clip.

  “The second lesson, is that in order to survive you are loyal to no one. You are on nobody’s side except your own.” I holster the gun and look her in the eye to make sure she understands exactly what I’m getting at. “You got that?”

  Rage nods. “Yes, loyal to no one,” she says, adding, “What about you?”

  I laugh. This fucking kid.

  “No one, kid." I look over to the bodies in the dirt then back to her. "Especially not me.”

  Acknowledgments

  This part is always really hard for me. There is so much that goes into creating a book. So many days of feeling like a complete failure in every aspect of life. Then you guys read my words and open the flood gates of love and by the time I get to writing these things I’m a blubbering mess.

  But I’ll give it a try. Here we go. *wipes tears*

  Thank you first and foremost to my husband and daughter. There is so much you both sacrifice for this crazy dream. I can never thank you or apologize to you enough. You two are my everything.

  Baby Frazier, you can do anything and everything you set out to accomplish in life. Your mama isn’t the brightest bulb on the tree and she’s shit at laundry and dishes, but if I can put a lasso around my dreams then so can you, my bright little love.

  Logan, you have taken this dream of mine and turned it into a dream of ours. That means the world to me. Your endless support is the only reason I can do this some days. Your strength makes me stronger and I am forever grateful we found each other exactly when we were meant to. Who would have thought twelve years ago as crazy twenty-something’s that we’d be where we are now? And not a single stint in rehab between us! HAHA. But, seriously, look at us go, babe! I love you more than words. Forever I am yours. To the moon and beyond. Always.

  Thank you to my readers. You are such a huge part of my soul. Your enthusiasm for my stories still FLOORS me. I am so grateful you love my words. Thank you for allowing me
to continue writing them. I promise I’ll give you all the stories I have, with everything I have, for as long as you’ll let me.

  To all the women reading this, thank you for being such strong complicated beautiful creatures who inspire me every day. Do not doubt what you are capable of. I sure don’t. So go! DO IT ALL. Try and fail at your dreams then try again because that’s when you will truly shine. Because you CAN. Because you are LOVED. Because you’re WORTHY of everything this life has to offer. And if all else fails, because I motherfucking said so.

  To the classiest bitches in the trailer park, my girls (and like two guys) in Frazierland, LOVE ALL YOUR FACES AND THEN SOME. Thank you for hanging out with me. Talking to me. And being there for me. YOU are my safe place.

  To all those who laughed both behind my back and in my face when I said I wanted to write books for a living, THANK YOU FOR THAT PUSH.

  Thank you to my agent Kimberly Brower of Brower Literary & Management for opening doors for me I didn’t even know were there. I can’t wait to see what the future holds.

  To AudiOMG, and to all my foreign publishers, Thank you for taking a chance on me and my work. I promise I’ll try not to let you down and I’m so excited to discover what’s next.

  Thank you to Karla Nellenbach *DOUBLE MIDDLES*, Evident Ink, and Love-N-Books for the edits. Thank you for helping me tell my story and for making sense of my madness.

  Thank you to my author friends who inspire me and offer encouragement and words of wisdom daily. You help me both professionally and mentally. You guys are the SHIZNIT. (You know who you are S.T.-ers)

  Thank you to Jenn Watson and the team at Social Butterfly for helping birth my book babies into the world with gusto. And just like birth, sometimes launching one of my books can be a bloody mess, but in the end it’s so worth it. I’m grateful for all you do.

  Thank you to Wander Photography (Wander and Andrey) for the amazing cover image and for giving life to Smoke. I love your work and the both of you. Margaritas on Mr. Frazier very soon!

  Thank you to Jessica, Rea, Pavlina, Lydia, Lizette, Kath, and Kris for reading through the ARCS so quickly for me. You are life savers. Special thanks to Lydia and Rea for all the amazing detail and hard work. You are all very much appreciated and I’m a thousand percent less frazzled because of your help.

  Thank you to Julie Vaden for being my friend and for being the most excellent admin of Frazierland. Wait, that’s not good enough of a title. PRESIDENT of Frazierland! I’m unworthy of your help or your friendship, but I’m a greedy bitch, so I’ll take ‘em both.

  Thank you to all the AMAZING bloggers and Goodreads reviewers who continue to sign up for my blog tours and ARCS. Thank you for continuing to support me and spread the word about my books to the masses. Your role is VITAL to what we do and I appreciate each and every one of you more than you can ever know.

  I meant to keep this short. SHIT. Oh well, I’m just VERY thankful. *DROPS MIC*

  Word to your mother,

  T.M.