The Boys Down South by Abbi Glines

28

bray

This place was a dump. Clean as a damn whistle… but a dump. I stared out the window in the main part of the trailer and looked out at my surroundings in the early morning sun. Scarlet was in the tiny closet she called the bathroom taking a shower. We’d been up most of the night. There wasn’t a square inch of this place I hadn’t fucked her. Not that it was hard. This place was tiny.

Blankets and plastic bags covered some windows in the trailer beside her. Cars were up on bricks, clothes hung on laundry lines, there was even one neighbor who made art with beer cans. They decorated the small porch he’d built.

Shaking my head, I stepped back from the scene. I couldn’t look at that shit and be in a good mood when she walked out of that bathroom. It frustrated the hell out of me. Why didn’t she come home?

The door opened to the bathroom and I focused on Scarlet exiting it instead. She paused with a towel wrapped around her. A small unsure smile touched her lips. I had been prepared to convince her not to kick me out this morning. She hadn’t though. When she woke up and rolled over on her back to look up at me, it wasn’t regret I saw.

“I have some bread and jelly. The milk is out of date. I normally eat at work,” she said apologetically.

“I think I’d like to eat at your work too. If that’s okay with you.” I wanted to see her work. I also wanted to see Diesel and for him to see me. As much as she claimed they were simply work friends, I could tell by his body language last night that he thought differently.

She chewed her bottom lip nervously. “Okay, but… okay.” She changed her mind about whatever it was she wanted to say.

Unable to keep my hands off her, I walked over to pull her against me. “I’m not leaving here until you do.” I was trying like hell not to demand she return home. I wanted her to decide to on her own.

“What about your job?” she asked.

“I may lose it. But I’m not leaving you here.” I stopped myself before I mentioned the dangerous looking neighbors she had.

A frown creased her brow. “You can’t lose your job.”

“I reckon I can get another one.” I didn’t want to lose my job. I enjoyed it. And there was Satan I didn’t want to leave. But Scarlet was more important than the mustang.

“I can’t come back,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

The reason she left was no longer an issue. “Why?” I asked.

She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. I thought she was about to tell me when she stared over my shoulder. Her expression detached. As if she’d checked out and was in another moment. I’d never seen her do that before. It bothered me. No, it fucking concerned me.

“Scarlet,” I said her name. She blinked several times then her gaze shifted back to me.

“I live here. This is my home now.”

This couldn’t be more appealing than the large house she’d lived in with her parents. Unless they’d finally divorced or her mother had moved out. “Did your parents move?” I asked.

She shook her head, no. Emotion filled her eyes. Tears she seemed determined not to shed. “No. But I’m not going back there.”

I knew her mother was a crazy whore. Most of the town knew it. Momma had mentioned her mother before and referred to her as sorry. Which was the same as calling her a whore. Sorry was a deep insult coming from Momma.

But her dad was successful. He was known for overlooking his wife’s infidelity. When Scarlet had graduated high school, he hadn’t been there. Neither of them had. Dixie had been upset about it. But Scarlet had not seemed to care.

“Why?” I asked when she didn’t say more.

She inhaled deeply. “This is my new life. Where I want to be. That life, my parents, that… I don’t want to go back there. Ever.”

What the fuck? “Did something happen with your mom?” The woman was insane.

She shook her head, no.

“What about your dad?” Had he shown up and upset her?

She shook her head, no, again. I waited, hoping she’d say more. I had always known she wasn’t close to her parents. That the relationship with both of them was tense. If she could stay away from home, she did. No one seemed to care. The nights she’d slept with me in my truck, so we could park and fuck all night, not once had they called her. Looked for her. Worried that she wasn’t there. It had seemed odd, but I never bothered asking.

“He’s not my real father,” she blurted out, like she was having to force herself to admit it. “I was the result of an affair my mother had with his younger brother. He’s my uncle. My real father died in a hunting accident when my mother was still pregnant with me.” Her eyes were wide in surprise. As if she couldn’t believe she’d just told me this.

Holy shit. I didn’t know what to say to that. I wanted to ask her if she was sure. If this wasn’t just a bunch of bullshit that her mother had told her. But the way her face was fighting against the emotion trying to break free, I didn’t have the heart to keep drilling her with questions.

“How long have you known?” I asked, wondering how long she’d held onto this.

“Since I was nine.”

Motherfucker. “Jesus, Scarlet. Why did you never tell me?”

She turned her head from me. Her mouth in a tight line. She appeared angry about something. Was she mad I was asking questions? “We didn’t talk much, Bray. We fucked.” The hard tone her voice had taken caused me to study her closer.

“I’m going to be late for work,” she said, moving back from me then tugging at her towel to keep it from falling. As if I didn’t know every inch of her body naked.

“Get ready then but Scarlet, this isn’t over. We have more to talk about.”

She didn’t say anything more. The door closed firmly behind her. Too firmly.

I stood there, staring at the door she had walked through and started making plans. I wasn’t going to let her stay here. She wasn’t happy here. She was just a survivor. I hadn’t realized it until now.

Once I had hated myself for wanting her. For fucking craving her. Because I thought she was into playing games. I grouped her with the others. Assumed she was silly and wild. She was nothing like I thought.

When she stepped back through the door, I knew what I was going to do. I would plan. Prepare. But I knew.

Scarlet glanced at her phone. “We have ten minutes to get there.”

“Then you better get your ass in the truck,” I replied in a lighter tone, hoping to ease the tension suddenly thick around us.

She gave a nod then did just that. All the while not looking at me.