Chapter 19
As I walk out of the bank, I check my phone for updates from my crew over at the big kitchen remodel we’ve got going and blow out a relieved breath that everything was delivered on time. Nothing was missing from the order, which was a worry of mine since that particular supplier is known to make mistakes when the orders are on the larger size.
Lifting my head, I come to an abrupt halt when I see the man I despise more than anyone walking out of the smoke shop next to the bank. Flashes of memory assault me from years ago, Clayborn Hughes completely wasted and laughing manically when I arrived with my parents at his home to find out why my sister left that pathetic party alone.
The pounding of my dad’s fist on the front door syncs with the pounding in my head, pushing my migraine from barely tolerable to downright torture.
“Hughes! You in there?” Dad bellows, his voice cracking, drowning out my mom’s sniffles. We’re all here, painfully desperate to find out just what the hell happened. All the cops were able to tell us was that Julia was walking alone along the edge of a twisting back road. ALONE.
I lift my head and peer at the peeling wood framed door when muffled voices grow louder just before my classmate’s dad whips it open. Blinking against the morning sun, he looks us over and sighs.
“I know why ya’ll are here. Lemme get ‘im.” I follow my parents into the house and barely take in the overabundance of wood paneling and the stale scent of cigarette smoke. My eyes fall to an overflowing ashtray and my nose wrinkles when the disturbed air blows some of it around as we walk past. “CLAY! GET YOUR ASS IN HERE, BOY!”
I wince again and mom grips my hand tightly, grounding me. Clayborn, or Clay as some call him in school, shouts something from somewhere in the house, but my mind is so lost that everything he says doesn’t register. It’s garbled as if he’s speaking under water.
Finally, with the three of us standing awkwardly in a tight group, we hear Clayborn’s pounding footsteps as he shoulders his way into the living room.
It’s obvious he’s still more than a little drunk as he stumbles into the room. His skin is sweat covered, and his eyes are half-lidded and red-rimmed. Much like my own, but for two VERY different reasons.
As he looks us over, he turns to his dad and rudely asks, “What?”
“I’m sure they’re here to ask about the girl.” His father’s insensitive referral to my sister has me inhaling sharply and I feel a swirl of rage swell inside of me. It hadn’t hit me yet, all of us too dumbstruck from shock that Julia is dead.
My sister is fucking dead, and Clayborn was the reason she was out last night.
He snorts, and my fury inches higher, only held back my mom’s tightening fingers. “I wasn’t there.”
“Please,” mom croaks out. “We’re just trying to understand what happened at the party and why she was walking home.” Then, she glances over at Clayborn’s dad with tears falling in steady drips. “We didn’t even know she’d snuck out until we got the call from the police. Her best friend mentioned she met your son at some field party. It’s all we know.”
My dad is vibrating, but tight-lipped as he, along with me, stare down the man in question. He’s barely able to keep his feet underneath him as he slumps against the wall to stay upright. Shrugging, he waves us off like he couldn’t care what we’re all going through.
“Boy!” his father snaps and Clayborn just glares at him.
Through gritted teeth, my dad finally speaks for the first time since we walked inside. “Cops are gonna be asking you questions anyway, so you might as well open your mouth and get to your story tellin’. Why the hell was my daughter with you last night and WHY was she left alone? She was only fifteen!”
That brings Clayborn out of his drunken haze, and I swear to God, this piece of shit actually smiles. Then his eyes fall on me and I’ve never seen someone so thrilled to burst the bubble we had of the fourth person who made up our tight-knit family.
“Your SISTER was lookin’ to party with us older boys. She’d been hangin’ all over me for weeks at school and I finally gave in and told her if she wanted to hook up, she could come find me.” His eyes graze over my mom, then fall on my dad. “She was in, so I picked her up at the end of your drive. Ya’ll should’ve kept a tighter leash on her.”
I take a step forward, a feral sound escaping my throat, but my dad stops me.
“Jesus, boy,” Clayborn’s father grumbles, grabbing his collar to keep him upright, then half-ass apologizes. “Sorry, he’s not quite himself this mornin’.”
Shoving his hand away, Clayborn gets pissed, that disgusting smile falling away. “I’m just fine, and if the cops wanna ask me questions, the most I’ll get in trouble for is drinkin’ underage. That girl showed up, then decided to play fuckin’ mind games. Talked a big talk until it came time to pay up. I wasn’t gonna waste my time with her, and I told her to get lost.”
“You didn’t even think to drive her home? You’re the one who brought her there!” I shout, unable to hold back any longer. The veins in my neck are bulging, throbbing harder and harder the long I wait for his answer.
“She should’ve put out.” He pauses before snickering and adds, “She probably should’ve looked before crossin’ the road, too.”
I fucking lunge for him, our bodies colliding as I take him to the ground hard. Our fathers aren’t fast enough to stop the first four or five punches I nail him with, and I’m screaming in rage, much louder than my mom’s cries for me to stop. Or maybe she’s crying because of how heartless this monster is.
With every connection my knuckles make with his face, a piece of me dies knowing it won’t change a thing. It won’t bring Julia back to us. But fuck if it doesn’t make me feel like I’m doing something.
My dad falls to his knees next to me and I find his face through my tears I didn’t realize were falling. “Jax…” he pleads, and I choke out an agonized cry.
Fisting Clayborn’s stained, unwashed shirt, I yank him up, so we’re nose to nose. “You ought to fucking rot for being such a miserable, worthless piece of human garbage. If I could kill you right now, I would.” Then I drop him, pleased with the sound of his head cracking against the floor.
Following my parents out the door, I take one last parting shot. “You best look both ways before you cross the road from now on, Clay. Wouldn’t want the same thing to happen to you, would we?”
Pulling myself out of my head, I feel my lip curling up in a snarl as he stops in the middle of the walk and taps the new pack of smokes against his palm, then pops one in his mouth. Patting his pants, he pulls out a lighter and just as it’s lit, he sucks on the butt hard and lifts his head.
Our eyes meet for a long moment, neither of us wanting to be the first to break the connection. Eventually, he smirks, then keeps moving toward the road. With a glance back to ensure I’m watching, he exaggeratedly looks both ways multiple times before crossing the road.
My skin is clammy long after he takes off in his van. I feel like I can’t catch my breath and the ache of missing my sister festers. Sometimes I’ll go a period of time where when I think of Julia, it’s only warm memories from time spent together as a family, but when I catch sight of the man responsible for sending a drunk, fifteen-year-old girl out on her own in the middle of the night, I want to destroy something.
I’m supposed to spend the morning on site of one of our jobs, then head to supervise the barn build, but I can’t. I can’t be around people right now. I can’t be around anyone but my parents.
Hurrying to my truck, I jump behind the wheel and send a few texts out to my guys letting them know plans have changed, then pause over Edith’s name with my thumb.
Finally, I tap on it and type out a quick message.
Just wanted to give you a head’s up. I won’t be on site today.
She responds almost immediately, but for the first time, it doesn’t make me smile. It’s not her fault, but I just can’t feel anything right now. My whole body is numb. Wiping away the sweat building on my brow from my anxiety, I read her response.
I just got a call from Mrs. Danielson that they’re canceling for the day anyway. Did you maybe want to do some more horse lessons? Unless you couldn’t come today because you’ll be busy elsewhere.
Tempting, but not today.
Sorry
The dots on my phone pop up and go away, so I set my phone down and drive straight to mom and dad’s. They’ve never had a problem with me just showing up without announcing it. Plus, we’ve been through this before when I’ve run into Clayborn Hughes in the past, and I need to expel the fury that’s never fully gone away.
Normally, dad has me do some grueling work to build a sweat and exhaust me. It’ll take hours, and I don’t enjoy the labor, but it works. It’s what I need right now.
When I arrive, it’s like mom had a sense that something was off because she’s waiting at the top of the steps of their wrap-around porch with a large glass of water and a soft smile. I feel my phone buzz in my pocket, but I ignore it and greet her.
“Hey, mom.” With a kiss on her cheek, I take the glass and down it, then wipe my forehead again.
She tilts her head and studies me. “Your dad’s in the back. I’m sure he could use a hand.”
I nod once, thanking her without words and move to pass by, but she stops me with a hand. “You want to tell me what happened?”
“Not right now,” I murmur, my voice scratchy from emotion. “I’m gonna stick around for dinner. That okay?”
“Always, honey.” Patting my arm, she lets me move on and I drag my feet through the house, following the sound of my father banging on a pipe or wall. Before I push through the door to find him, I quickly read Edith’s response.
Oh, okay. Maybe next time. I hope the rest of your day is good.
I want to write back, but my dad’s grunt is a reminder of why I’m here this early in the day. Ignoring her message, I squat next to him and wait until he notices me, his head buried under a sink with an obvious water leak.
Once he lifts his head and sees me, his eyes roam over my face and something passes behind his eyes. Going back to his work, he lets go of the pipe and points away.
“Bales need to be stacked in the barn. They’re a mess.” That’s it. Nothing else is said because he knows exactly why I’m here.
I pat his thigh and stand. “I’ll get on it.”
The rest of the afternoon and late into the evening, I burn off my hatred for Clayborn by hoisting bales of hay around in the barn. They didn’t need to be stacked, but I use the hours to move them from one end to the other. It’s enough for now.