Chapter 4 Forsythe
Chapter Four
Forsythe
“Come on now, old man!” The scrawny kid smacked my back, nearly knocking my beer all over the bar. “That’s all you're going to have? Pftt! Drink up!” I watched him down a shot of tequila like it was nothing. “No thanks, Torchy. I prefer to take my time.” I took a sip of the beer.
Old man, huh? This damn kid has no idea what I’m even capable of. Hell, if I wanted to, I could knock this little tyke right on his drunken ass without even blinking an eye. Old man.
Torchy grumbled loudly and blew a few raspberries. “You’re no fun.” He was drinking a bit much, and I knew if he didn’t slow down I’d have to lug his ass back to the ranch. And that was a chore I didn’t want.
The entire bar erupted in a loud cheer and applause, probably ‘cause some wannabe cowboy was about to take his shot at the mechanical bull they had. It was a ridiculous attraction that drew tourists and drunken fools in like a damn magnet, putting their stupidity on display for the rest of the bar’s entertainment.
Why did I even agree to come out tonight?
I rubbed my temples, annoyed by the commotion. “Hey, Torchy.” The scrawny man looked up at me with watery eyes. “Where’s ol’ Cooper? I thought he was meeting us here tonight considering this was all his idea. He didn’t ditch us, did he?”
He better not. I don’t want to get stuck babysitting your drunk ass.
Torchy burped, slamming his empty beer down onto the bar with a dramatic exhale.
“He should be here.” The man looked around the bar, searching the many faces of people within the establishment.
“I thought I saw him earlier…he was…” He stopped and grinned like a child.
“Oh, there he is.” He pointed with his tatted finger.
“Well, well, well, it don’t look like he’s alone either.
” His grin grew as my eyes followed the direction of his gaze.
What the—
Climbing onto the old mechanical bull was none other than little Lucille, wearing a dark leather jacket and obsidian jeans so damn tight, they hugged her body like a glove.
She perched herself on the saddle effortlessly, kicking her clunky boots while she removed her jacket and revealed a thin, lacy top with the daintiest straps tucked into her pants.
Grinning, she spun the jacket around in the air above her as the crowd of drunken men and women gathered cheered her on, and tossed it out into the crowd and none other than ol’ Cooper caught it.
Son of a bitch.
“Ms. Nellie would have my head if she knew her daughter was here,” I grumbled before finishing off my beer.
I jumped down from the barstool, but Torchy tried to stop me. “Oh, let her have some fun.” He gave me a sympathetic look. “She’s been gone for such a long time…let her live a little.”
I brushed him off and straightened my jacket.
“She got to live…for nine years. And there ain’t nothing fun about making a fool of yourself.
” I looked back over at Lucille just as she was chugging a beer, waiting as the clock ticked dauntingly down.
“And right now, she’s acting like a fucking child.
She knows better.” Torchy shook his head and scoffed as I walked away.
The alarm sounded off and the mechanical bull began to move, slowly rocking back and forth.
Lucille grinned and laughed, holding on tight while she drank her beer. I pushed my way closer.
The crowd laughed and clapped as the bull moved faster, dipping and bucking more intensely.
Lucille spilled her beer all over her body, laughing while the crowd mimicked her giggles and clapped, cheering her behavior on.
I pushed closer, nearing the guy handling the mechanical bull, when someone grabbed my arm and stopped me.
“That’s enough.” My body whirled to find Cooper, holding her jacket. “Leave her be, son.”
I scoffed. “Like hell. If Ms. Nellie saw—”
Cooper interrupted me. “Don’t worry about Ms. Nellie. She needs this.” I looked back at Lucille, beaming as she rode the bull. It was almost impressive that she was still holding on. “What if she falls?” I asked, looking back at the old cowboy. “Then what?”
Cooper smiled. “She ain’t going to fall.
Don’t you remember who her daddy is?” My eyes returned to Lucille, watching her more closely.
Her hair swayed like fire as her layers of necklaces jumped around her face.
Despite her ridiculously long nails, she had a firm grip on the pretend reins, and her thighs were pressed tightly along the mechanical bull.
The way she rocked with the motions and kept her body steady, adjusting her weight and grip as she moved, it was like watching her move with nothing but instincts.
“That girl's been riding since she could walk. She may not be his daughter by blood, but she’s Memphis’ daughter through and through.
And she can ride that bull better than any of us here.
” Cooper patted me on the back. “I get your concern for her, but that kid is as wild as they come. And if you keep trying to cage her, she’s just going to end up hating you. ”
“She already hates me,” I quietly replied.
Cooper sighed, handing me Lucille’s jacket. The smell of her perfume hit my nostrils as I squeezed the leather in my hand. “She don’t hate you. But she don’t like you either. Maybe if you stopped poking at her and tried talking to her, things wouldn’t be so cold between you two.”
My jaw tightened. “I don’t need her to like me. Lucille has no bearing on my life whatsoever. My only concern is Bone Ridge, and doing right by Memphis.” I wasn’t sure if I believed myself.
The old man’s smile grew as he raised a brow.
“I’m sure Memphis would disagree.” He stared into my eyes for a moment, only breaking away once the timer buzzed, followed by the eruption of onlookers.
“Take care of her, Forsythe. Just like you promised.” He walked away and joined Torchy.
I looked back at Lucille, shouting with excitement over not falling off.
She raised her arm high and whistled with the other. “Tequila shots on me!” Everyone hooted and hollered.
Great…more fucking alcohol.
Lucille hopped down from the bull, wiping the spilt beer from her shirt as she caught my gaze. Her smile instantly fell. “What’re you doing here?” she asked. I raised her jacket, offering it back to her while trying to ignore the smell of her perfume and look of disgust stamped across her face.
I cleared my throat. “Cooper wanted me to make sure you were okay.” My eyes wandered to her exposed shoulders. “Here, put this on. You’re covered in beer.”
She snatched the jacket from my grasp and held it.
“Oh he did, did he?” She looked past me at the two men sitting at the bar, ignoring us both.
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t need, or want, your help.
And I’m not planning to leave anytime soon.
” She roughly pushed past me and tried to march off, flicking me off with her middle finger. “Fuck off, Forsythe.”
This fucking woman will be the death of me.
“Lucille,” I groaned. My body turned back to face her as she grabbed a beer from an empty table. “You shouldn’t drink anymore. We both know you never could handle more than a few drinks.” Her hazel eyes met mine, challenging me to do something while she downed the beer.
She slammed the bottle onto the table and wiped her mouth. “Yeah, well,” she exhaled. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m not the same little girl you remember.”
I stepped closer, shadowing over her small frame. “I’m not the same man from back then either,” I growled as my hands balled into fists at my side. “Get your shit. We’re leaving. Your momma would be ashamed if she saw you here, acting this way.”
Lucille’s brow raised. “And what way is that?” She stepped closer, the smell of her perfume mixing with the heavy lingering scent of alcohol, the two filling my nostrils as she tilted her head, waiting for me to answer.
A damn fool.
I could’ve said it right there, but I knew if she was acting out like this, something must’ve been bothering her. Something big enough to make her come all the way out here and get trashed. So, for once, I chose to bite my tongue.
Lucille scoffed. “That’s what I thought.” She pointed her finger and pressed it into my chest. “Leave me alone, Forsythe. You’ve done enough.” Lucille picked the beer back up, and I grabbed her wrist, preventing her from drinking it. “What the hell are you—”
“I said that’s enough.”
“Little Lucille?”
Her body tightened and froze at the woman’s voice that came from behind her.
She dropped her hand and slowly turned around to look at the attractive woman, wearing a deep denim blue bustier and white mini-skirt with matching white cowboy boots.
Her long, pitch-black hair bounced as she moved her head, contrasting with the bright red lipstick she wore.
The woman smiled at Lucille, holding what was probably a fruity little drink by the looks of the colorful umbrella sticking out of it.
“Oh my god!” The blue-eyed woman was then joined by a blonde-haired duo, looking almost identical to her with matching smirks and judgement filled gazes. “It is you, isn’t it?”
Lucille took a sip of her beer and sighed. “Priscilla Walker.” The way she pronounced the woman’s name, with such a low, disgruntled snarl, was enough to tell me the circumstances of their relationship to one another. “Been a while.”
Priscilla batted her lashes. “Not long enough, apparently.” She flashed a smile that reminded me of a wild animal ready to pounce on its prey. “Wow, how long has it been since you took off?” she asked sarcastically as the two blondes behind her giggled like pathetic teens. “Seven…eight years?”
“Nine.” Lucille bluntly corrected them. “But you never were good at math, were you?”