Chapter 21
I t’s early morning when Wade gets back home, but I’ve been sitting on the porch, waiting for him for over an hour.
“You ever sleep?” he asks, slamming the door to his truck and joining me. He’s got that boyish grin back on his face, so I figure all that red mist from last night has lifted.
“Not when there’s work to be done,” I tip the last of my coffee on the earthy ground and look at my brother.
“Noah called this morning, Tyler’s badly hurt, but he’s livin’.”
“Not for long.” Wade clicks his knuckles, quickly returning to being tense, and I can tell he ain’t gonna let this lie.
“The River Boys questioned him when he came around, and you're not gonna believe where he got the shit from.” I know what I’m about to tell Wade is only gonna fuel his anger. He’s gonna want to act on it straight away, and I ain’t even sure what kinda action we should take just yet.
“Try me.” When he stares at me, I take a breath before I answer.
“Dear little Caleb Mason.” I watch the shock drop on his face as I reveal that Ronnie’s youngest son, and the apple of his eye, is behind all this.
“Caleb? Are you shittin’ me?”
“No shit, turns out, Daddy’s little hero is supplying the town’s predators with Vetalar.”
“Then I’m gonna kill him, too.” Wade goes to stand up, but I pull him back down. “We gotta think about this, and before you think it, I ain’t saying that we do nothin’. I’m suggesting we be smart and use this to our advantage.”
“Garrett, the kid slipped that shit into Leia’s drink. He was gonna rape her and let’s not forget the fact he did rape the Woake’s girl. He’s gonna die, and anyone who helped him is gonna die, too.”
“I agree, but what you're forgettin’ is that you had a whole audience last night at that party. If he disappears now, everyone’s gonna suspect it was you.”
“So what are you suggestin’?” I can tell Wade ain’t convinced, but he’s prepared to listen, which is a start.
“I say you let him think he’s got away with it.
Have him show his face around town. He’ll be shamed.
No one likes a fuckin’ rapist. He’ll get a couple of hidings, too.
The Woakes are well-liked people. Let the kid live in fear and watch him suffer until the day comes when you decide to put him out of his misery.
” My brother nods his head, like he sees the logic out of what I’m saying.
“And what about Caleb?”
“Caleb,” I smile and light up a smoke. “We’ll leave it to his Daddy to make his life hell.
We’re going to Mason, and we’re gonna tell him what we know.
We’ll keep his secret and gain a little of the control we lost back.
Mason is sitting nice and snug in Mayor Walker’s pocket.
I wonder how our Mayor would feel if he found out his daughter almost got raped by his main sponsor’s son? ”
“I’m not hearing anything in your story about me killin’ him.” Wade frowns.
“There’s better ways to ruin a man than to kill him.”
“Oh yeah, how?” Wade laughs at me when I stand up.
“You let ‘em live,” I tell him simply, leaving him to think on that and heading back inside. I see Maisie loitering at the bottom of the stairs, and automatically my feet stop moving.
The fact I wouldn’t answer any of her questions last night got her pissed at me, but I’d rather that than admit the truth. The truth is pathetic.
“Mornin’,” I nod my head, as I pass her on my way to the dining room and take a plate from the buffet table where Josie has laid out breakfast. Maisie follows me, showing she’s still angry when she snatches the plate, I offer her, out of my hand and seethes me with her eyes, as she loads it.
“Mornin’ sis,” Wade strolls in with a huge smile on his face. He’s obviously thought on what I said and decided to go with it, and when he plants a kiss on Maisie’s cheek, I swear if her hands weren’t full, she’d slap him.
I take my space at the table and pour myself some juice. Maisie sits opposite me, still scowling, and when Wade joins us, an awkward silence fills the room.
“Are we gonna say grace too, you know, just to keep up this pathetic attempt we’re making to be The Brady-fucking-Bunch?”
“Who the hell are the Brady Bunch?” Wade scoffs around his eggs, looking confused.
“It’s an old TV show about two families coming together, through a second marriage.
I’m surprised Maisie’s heard of it.” I add, just to really piss her off.
I’m starting to take pleasure in her attitude.
Sure, it makes me want to smash her into the wall and fuck the brat out of her, but knowing that she’d like me to, makes the suffering bearable.
“Re-runs, I used to watch them with my mother before she got dick-dizzy for your Pops.” She answers back at me with a clever smile, that has me gripping my knife and fork tighter.
“Listen, can we not talk about Dad’s dick over the breakfast table?” Wade places down his fork and slides his hand over his forehead.
“You’re right. We should talk about what happened last night. When you nearly fucking killed someone.” Maisie’s focus turns to him, and he makes a real shit attempt to look sorry about it.
“I’m waiting?” her fingers tap impatiently on the table.
“You saw what he did; death wouldn’t have been anything less than he deserved.” Wade shrugs unapologetically.
“Jesus, when did I stop living with the Waltons and move in with the fucking Sopranos?” Maisie stands up and slams her palm on the table, and Wade stares at her with even more confusion.
“More old TV shows before your time.” I glance across at him and explain, knowing that it will add to her frustration.
“Will you stop using old TV shows as references? It’s pissing me off.” Wade yells at her, and she’s about to yell something back but holds her mouth open when Cole casually strolls into the room, loads himself up a plate and sits at his space at the table.
Everyone stops to stare at him, and it takes him a while to notice since he’s so busy tucking in.
“What?” he looks up innocently. “I heard Pops and his trophy wife were away, and breakfast in the Mason’s bunkhouse tastes like it’s been through a rat’s ass.” He continues to dig in, and Maisie shakes her head in disbelief.
“You know what? I’m done trying to figure this shit show out. The sooner I leave for home, the better.” Her chair scrapes the floor before she strops out, and I hate how much those words hurt.
“Jeez, she really is a bitch, ain’t she? Can you pass the salt?” Cole looks up to Wade, who, I guess, gives up trying to figure him out and slides it over with a hard shove.