Chapter 13 #2
He leans in, dimple flashing. “Same as usual, ma’am.”
She rolls her eyes again and leaves. Brothers flirts with everybody, drizzling honey all over every situation he walks into. But I’ve noticed he doesn’t say sir or ma’am to his peers. It’s only people who are less wealthy or powerful.
He’s all yes, ma’am the minute he’s at a diner or a strip club. Thank you, sir, but only to the person pumping his gas. I asked him about it once, and he gave me a thoughtful stare and said it costs nothing to be a gentleman, Jen, but it’ll cost you everything to be a cunt.
“You doing alright, Jen?” he asks, having a sip of coffee.
I start to nod, then our eyes meet. His gaze is soft, real gentle.
I put my coffee down. “I’ve just been thinking.”
“About what?”
It feels shitty to say it out loud, but I think I have to. It’s eating me alive.
“I don’t think Holly and I are working out,” I say.
He flicks the inside of his cheek with his tongue. He does that a lot. Then, he sinks back, releasing a sigh.
“She doesn’t seem like a good match for you,” he says finally. “I hate to say it. I know she means something.”
I don’t answer. Brothers has been pretty clear about his feelings toward my relationship with Holly. He’s just short of forbidding it, always telling me I need to find somebody my own age. Settle down. Maybe have some kids someday.
“I can’t just let it go,” I say finally.
He cocks his head. “Why’s that?”
I shrug. “It’s kind of personal stuff. Not Sunday conversation.”
“You can talk about anything, Jen,” he says, and he means it.
Something snaps inside, and it bleeds like it did the night Cherry threw me out.
“Okay,” I say. “She’s way too fucking much for me right now. I never wanted to fuck her in the first place. She was just all over me in her kitchen, and I didn’t know how to say no. And then it just kept going and fucking going. And now, I can’t even get off without some kind of weird shit.”
He blinks, lips parting. “Jesus,” he says.
“I think I have like a fetish or something, and I don’t want it.”
He shakes his head. “That’s something different. You just need to pull back and recalibrate.”
There’s an awkward silence.
“Sorry, I gave you too much information,” I say.
“No, you really can tell me anything,” he says, voice gentle. “What do you mean by weird shit?”
I shrug, neck heating. “Hitting, biting. Saying all kinds of real mean shit. Choking her out. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
The lines on his face soften.
“That’s alright,” he says. “Lots of people like that. It’s normal, you know, as long as you’re both fine with it.”
“That’s the thing,” I say earnestly. “I don’t think I’m fine with it.”
His brows rise. “She’s forcing you?”
“No, no, everything we did, I could have stopped. I just didn’t get what I was doing. I don’t know… I think I need some time to have regular, boring sex with someone who isn’t beating the shit out of me.”
Ashleigh appears, a plate in each hand. Brothers and I stare at each other as she sets them down.
“Y’all need ketchup?” she asks.
“No, we’re just fine as is,” Brothers says, snapping into his usual charm. “Thanks so much.”
She tops off our coffee and leaves. I poke at my charred bacon with my fork. Brothers lets out a long breath and leans on his elbows, rubbing his fingers together.
“I think you should break it off with Holly,” he says.
“No shit,” I mumble.
He gives me a paternal look. Sometimes, I forget he’s only ten years my senior. There’s an ageless quality to him that makes him feel like he’s in his forties or fifties.
“I’m gonna tell you something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while,” he says. “But it’s not good, and you might be angry with me. But I want you to know I never meant to hurt you. Alright?”
My stomach sinks. “Okay.”
He clears his throat. His eyes shut for a second, then snap open.
“Miss Holly is a honeypot,” he says.
“A what?”
“I have to be able to trust the people who work for me. It’s sensitive materials we’re distributing,” he says, voice low. “Holly brings in the men for me, and I set them up and provide them work. She gets a cut per person she brings to me.”
In the distance, I hear the slow whine of destruction.
We’re both quiet.
“You had her seduce me?” I ask finally.
He shrugs. “I mean, I didn’t know who you were until that day we worked on your truck. She called me, said she had somebody who was an excellent worker. I met you, and you were...really something, Jen. You’ve got grit, drive. You’re like a cat, always landing on your feet.”
Now I’m going over every second of the night Cherry threw me out. That low whine doesn’t stop as the pieces fall into place.
“Holly told Cherry about us,” I say.
He sighs.
“She didn’t answer the phone on purpose,” I whisper.
“I didn’t plan that part,” he says. “She just said I should call you.”
I’m speechless, my gut twisted. Of course, I should have put all the pieces together, but some of it doesn’t make sense.
“If you put her onto me, why try to get me to dump her?” I ask finally.
“I didn’t put her onto you, I just said that,” he says. “She picks the men and sends them on. I didn’t expect her to find somebody who was just a kid. When I met you, that changed things.”
“How? How did it change anything?”
He looks at me, and I wonder if this is the way my father might have looked at me if he were here right now.
That’s when it hits me. This is what I was desperate for the entire year I was sleeping with Holly: a smarter, older man to listen and tell me what to do, one who cared about me.
“Because you were just a kid, Jen,” he says quietly. His voice sounds the way it does when he’s in church. “Miss Holly fell for somebody she wasn’t supposed to. I’ve told her more than once to leave you alone, but I think she feels guilty about what she did.”
My food is getting cold. I haven’t had a bite yet.
“I think she loves me,” I say finally.
“I think she does too. But I think she’s angry about it,” he says. “Guilt is a funny thing. It can make you pretty damn mean if you let it.”
I can’t figure out what to say. Once again, I’m in a mess, and I don’t know how to get out. I set my fork down and cross my arms, staring out at the parking lot.
“Hey,” says Brothers. “Can I say something?”
I glance over. “Sure.”
“I’m real sorry,” he says. “I really do mean that.”
I feel the tug of sympathy, but I’m pretty cut up right now.
“Okay,” I say.
“I want you to know I love you, Jen. You’re family to me now.”
Boom. There it is, the explosion at the end of the low whine. Those words hurt more than anything. More than Holly’s betrayal and Brothers’ hand in it. More than Cherry kicking me out. Because even though I’m hurting, I believe him. He does love me like his own blood.
We sit. He lets me have my silence.
Finally, I clear my throat. “Where’s Ashleigh? I could use a warm up on my coffee.”
He smiles. I’m choking, but I smile back.
“You can always talk to me, Jen,” he says. “Anytime you’re in trouble. I’ve got your back. Alright?”
“Alright,” I repeat.
I forgive him. Because if I don’t have Brothers, I have no one.
NOW
Hearing that name come from her lips broke the seal. Everything is coming back, and I can’t keep it down. I’m sick, the way I was when he told me about Miss Holly.
I take the cigarette out of my mouth and lean over the railing, vomiting into the grass. As fast as the sickness came, it’s gone.
I’m alright, I think.
Slowly, I sink down to sit on the steps. There’s so much pain from that time in my life, and I can’t figure out where it’s coming from. Is the source Holly? Is it what Brothers did?
Or is it what the Caudills did in retaliation?
Because that was the worst thing of all. That was what made me steal my horse, Godspeed, out of Brothers’ barn, ignore his warnings about staying under his protection, and run like an outlaw. That’s what I’ve kept locked up deep inside, along with everything else.
That’s what I can’t forgive.
I run a hand over my face, wiping away the sweat. Brothers talked a lot about forgiveness. He said the Good Lord forgives every Sunday morning. So, I did the same. I forgave him. I trusted him.
I take the picture Della gave me out of my pocket.
My stomach turns over. There we are, looking young and brilliant.
We’re standing outside the diner, arms around each other’s shoulders.
Brothers is in a linen suit, holding his cowboy hat in his hand, big grin on his face.
I’m in my Sunday shirt and pants, always creased because I stuffed them in the dresser instead of hanging them. My hair is wild and my smile is real.
God, I look like a baby.
The world is quiet. The mountains and fields are still. An ache worms its way through my heart.
Sometimes, I just wish it had all worked out. I want to know what happened the night I killed Pat Pretty, but it’s all still a blur. Slowly, I flip it over, and my stomach drops.
There’s a tiny scrawl, barely legible.
Come home, Jen.
This was written years ago. An intense anger floods my veins. Jesus Christ, this man cannot be content with ruining my life once. No, that’s not enough for Brothers Boyd. He has to reach out through twenty years of estrangement and sink his claws back into me.
I’m not free.
I haven’t ever been free. All this time, I’ve looked over my shoulder. I’ve slept with woman after woman, trying to fix what Holly did. I’ve made friends, real friends, and yet, there’s always this unanswered question hanging over me.
I am an unfinished story.
And I’m tired of it.
I don’t want to run anymore. I’m done stepping on eggshells, hoping my past doesn’t rear its head.
I still can’t let Della get on top of me without being right back there on the kitchen floor.
It’s ruining my hope for the future. I thought she was my dream girl, my chance to have a family like everyone else I know.
Instead, I’m right back at the beginning.
I’m done. I won’t do this anymore.
I’m going back home.
It’s time to face him, to say the things I was too young to say back then, to face the Caudills and find out what happened the night I killed Pat Pretty.
I’ve lost sleep for years, wondering what I would do if I could go back and do it all over again. My chance is here to lay my demons to rest, maybe figure out some way to keep Della when it’s all over. I don’t know what I want with her, but I’m pretty sure I need to find out.
I’m back at the beginning. It’s the same unholy trinity.
But the Holy Ghost is a different woman this time, and that makes all the difference.