Make You Mine by K.T. Quinn

17

Charlotte

I watched the judge’s car disappear down the road with disgust.

“It’s awfully convenient,” I said, “that the judge who gave me over a hundred hours of community service is benefiting from it. What’s next? Painting his bathroom?”

Jayce grabbed a handful of nails and filled the pouch on the tool belt around his waist. “Welcome to Eastland. You’ll get used to that sort of corruption.”

“I already am.” I took a drink of water from the cooler. The clouds blocked the sun, but the humidity was getting worse by the minute. It was like breathing steam. “Did you know the sheriff owns the motel?”

“Mmm hmm. It’s bullshit, right?” Jayce wiped the sweat from his face with a sleeve, then muttered, “Fuck it,” and pulled the shirt over his head. He wiped his face with it, and the back of his neck, before wadding up the shirt and tossing it into the truck.

I couldn’t stop myself from staring.

Jayce didn’t just have a six-pack. He had an eight-pack, which glistened with sweat. As he ran a hand through his sweaty hair, the muscles on the side of his torso bulged. There was almost no fat on him, allowing every muscle and vein to practically jump out like a freaking pop-up book.

He glanced at me.

“Uh, yeah. It’s bullcrap,” I said in response to his question.

“I didn’t say bullcrap,” Jayce pointed out. “I said it’s bullshit.”

“I don’t like to curse.”

He lifted another piece of wood from the truck. His biceps looked even bigger now that he was shirtless. “Why not?”

I took the other end of the wood and tried to look at the ground. “My parents were strict about curse words when I was growing up.”

Jayce looked to his left, then his right. “I don’t see your parents around now.”

“Some habits die hard.”

“You should try it. Might make you feel better.”

“I’ll save it up for when things are really bad,” I said as we carried the board over to the posts. “Hopefully it doesn’t come to that. I wish I wasn’t stuck in this stupid town.”

Jayce aimed a nail and drove it into the wood with three smooth hammer strikes. “You and me both, Peaches.”

I gave him a funny look as he came over to nail in my half of the board. “Something Mindy had told me was tickling my curiosity. “Why are you stuck here? Your license isn’t suspended. You could ride away and all they could do is give you a fine for skipping the community service.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You did your research?”

I stood up straight. “I’m not above admitting that I looked up the penalty. I would do it in a heartbeat if my license wasn’t suspended.”

“Three days here and you’re already a hardened criminal.” He leaned in close to position the nail on the board above my hand. The tattoo on his right arm rippled as he hammered it home.

“So what’s the deal? Why don’t you leave?”

“I just can’t.”

I admired his glistening back muscles as he retrieved another board. “What did you do to tick off the Copperheads? What does Sid think you stole?”

He hefted the next piece of wood and carried it over. I grabbed the other end while he positioned his side against the post. “It’s better if you don’t get involved. Just keep your head down and—”

I let go of my end, letting it thunk into the dirt. I put my hands on my hips in my best impression of my momma when she’d had enough of someone’s attitude.

“Keep my head down and then leave town, right? Yeah, you and everyone else has told me that, but not much else. I’m getting sick of getting the runaround. You won’t tell me what the Copperheads are up to. You won’t tell me how you upset them. And you won’t tell me what they want from you. I’m not a toddler who needs to be kept from the truth for her own protection. I can handle reality.”

“Drugs.”

I opened my mouth to yell some more, then closed it. I hadn’t expected him to actually answer. “Oh.”

Jayce lowered his end of the wood and leaned against the post. A trickle of sweat ran down his temple. “They move drugs all over the state. That’s what’s in the big cement mixer. Bags of meth and heroine. Sid keeps the Copperheads drugged up all the time. Hell, he’s high most of the time himself.”

“That explains why a bunch of them were ridiculously skinny,” I said. “And why Sid seemed so crazy.”

“Naw,” Jayce said. “Sid was crazy long before he started using. You satisfied now that you know what’s going on?”

“I guess,” I replied. “You didn’t have to call me the c-word, though.”

He sighed and leaned on the fence post. The gesture made the muscle in his shoulder flex like a beast awakening from its slumber. “I was tryin’ to save your life, Peaches.”

“Oh yeah?” I said. “Some emotional abuse for my own good? I’ve seen this lifetime movie before. Next you’ll say you hit women because you care about them too much.”

I kept my tone half-joking, but half-serious. Jayce’s eyes were full of sadness. “You don’t understand.”

“Maybe help me understand, then, instead of being all cryptic about it.”

“They think I stole from them.”

“Stole what?”

“Money from a drug sale.”

I paused. “Did you?”

“I’m not gonna dignify that with a response,” he said. “They think I stole this money, and they’ll do anything to get it back, using whatever leverage over me they can find. You saw what Sid did to my truck.” He looked at me with a hard, certain gaze. “You came up to me and showed concern. Caring for me, asking if I was okay. They were watching. I had to act like a dick to you. Otherwise…”

“Otherwise he might have smashed me with the crowbar,” I said. “Just like you said.”

“You got it, Peaches.”

My relief was immense. He hadn’t meant what he said. It was all for show. That took most of the sting away.

Most of it.

“I guess it worked,” I said. “Because you fooled me, too.”

He gave me a sad smile. “I’m sorry, Charlotte. I would never say anything like that to you genuinely.” He looked away. “I don’t know how anyone could say that to someone like you.”

“Someone like what?” I asked, trying not to smile.

He glanced back and hesitated like he was choosing his words carefully. “Someone so innocent.”

Jayce looked like he’d wanted to say something else, but had held back. I decided not to push my luck as we resumed our fence-repairing.

We worked in contented silence until lunch. “Accidentally made two sandwiches again,” Jayce said, tossing me another Ziploc baggy.

I smiled gratefully. “How lucky of me.”

He hopped the fence and sat on a nice section of the judge’s lawn. “You don’t think we’ll get in trouble if he sees us eating on the job?” I asked. “And on his property, to boot?”

“A little rebellion is good for the soul, Peaches. Plus, I’ll hear his Cadillac coming.”

“Nothing more rebellious than running back to the truck so we don’t get in trouble.” I sat cross-legged on the ground next to him. “I’m still confused about something. Why don’t you just run? Get on your bike and ride to, like, Oregon?”

He bent one knee on the grass and bit into his sandwich. He gestured with the remains and spoke with his mouth full. “It’s complicated.”

“What’d you tell me when I said my break-up was complicated? I doubt it.” I said the last part in the deepest voice I could manage. Jayce chuckled at my poor impression.

“Eastland’s always been my home. Why should I leave just because he’s got it out for me?”

“So you’ll have the moral high ground when you die. That’s comforting.”

He shrugged and looked off into the distance. “I have a life here. I have… connections. I don’t want to uproot myself.”

“What connections?” I asked. I realized I didn’t know much about him at all. Not where he lived, or what he did for a living, or if he had any family. “Where in town do you live, anyway? Down off route twenty-two?”

He gazed back at me coolly. “I’ve answered a lot of questions for one day.”

I jerked my head at the house in the distance, with the perfectly green grass in between. “You live in a big mansion like this, don’t you?”

That made him laugh like it was the funniest joke in the world. “I’d be happier in a barn than a big empty house like that.” His smile faded slowly as he considered it. “I’m not corrupt enough for a big, fancy mansion.”

“Few people are, I figure.” The delicious PB&J sandwich turned sour in my mouth. “You know, I was already pretty ticked off to be stuck in this town, but now that I know it’s all so the sheriff and judge can line their pockets with my money, I’m really mad.”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “Sucks there’s nothin’ you can do about it.”

I gazed at the house, my anger intensifying. “Like heck there isn’t. Give me your pocket knife.”

He paused in the middle of chewing. “You serious?”

“Just do it.”

He reached into his pocket and placed the knife in my outstretched hand. “You’re not gonna do something you’ll regret later, are you?”

“I’m not going to regret this one bit.”

I put my sandwich on the ground and walked back to the fence. I found a flat spot on one of the posts and began carving into the wood. I moved the blade slowly, taking my time. Making sure it was perfect.

When I was done I stood up and admired my work. Jayce got up and came over to look.

“Judge Benjamin is a dick,” he read out loud. “Damn, Peaches. I thought you didn’t curse.”

“Out loud is vulgar,” I said, sticking my nose in the air. “Carved into wood makes it art.”

“Remind me not to piss you off. I don’t want my name carved all over Eastland.” He scrunched up his face while looking at the fence. “It needs a little somethin’ extra.”

He took the knife from my hand and bent down to the fence post. He blocked it with his body so I couldn’t see what he was doing until he finally stepped back. Underneath my message he had carved a tiny little penis, complete with carved bits of ejaculate squirting out the tip.

“A dick for the dick,” he announced. “In case anyone didn’t get the message.”

It was so childish, but so perfect, that I couldn’t help but laugh. Soon Jayce joined in, both of us doubling over like school children who had pulled a prank on the principal. I fell to the ground and rolled with laughter, literally rolled on the grass with a case of the giggles. Jayce fell down next to me and sighed happily.

“It doesn’t fix the corrupt asshole,” he said, patting my knee. “But it sure feels good, Peaches.”

My knee felt like fire where his hand touched. “It’s a better rebellion than eating lunch on his lawn.”

He took his hand off my knee and twisted to look over his shoulder at the road, which caused his hair to brush against my face. It brought with it the smell of shampoo, fruity and clean, mixing with his deeper, more masculine scent. When he turned back he stared deeply into my eyes.

In that moment, I felt more connected to him than I’d ever felt with someone else. We were just two souls trapped in this town together, powerless to save ourselves.

I could drown in those cobalt eyes, I thought.

Jayce’s hand reached up to cup my cheek, tender and strong at the same time. I held my breath and waited for what he would do next, what I desperately wanted him to do.

Kiss me. I closed my eyes and waited for him to pull my lips to his.

Suddenly he pulled his hand away.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“We can’t,” he said, though his eyes still bore into me with unrestrained lust.

“What the heck do you mean, we can’t?” I asked.

“We just can’t.”

Flabbergasted, I watched as he rose, put on his shirt from the truck, and retrieved his hammer. “We should get back to work. Judge usually comes back from fishing around lunch.”

You have got to be kidding me, I thought as we resumed our job.