Chapter 23 #3
JoLynne kept her eyes focused on Kitt. “Say what you will, but I know a man in love.”
=?=
Verne sat forward at the bar, downing his eighth, tenth, twelfth, or whatever number beer.
He was mostly hidden, close to the jukebox, away from everyone since Kitt and Micah had walked in the door.
That little motherfucker had fired him. He’d helped raise that boy to manhood.
He’d been Mr. Kelly’s foreman, his right-hand man and lover since before Kitt was born, and the little fucktard fired him for standing up for the Kelly legacy.
Something that little fucker should have done all on his own.
No one knew how bad Verne hurt at losing Kelly.
He still mourned him every single day. The only official Last Will and Testament anyone could find made it clear Kitt was to keep Verne working on that farm for as long as Verne wanted, but Kitt with his big fancy ideas tried to come in and take over.
Kelly cared for Verne, told him he loved him more than any other person he ever fucked, and Verne believed that with his whole heart.
Since he’d left that ranch, Verne tried to get in Kitt’s way.
He stopped the sale of everything he could.
He used all his past contacts to work against Kitt.
He’d set up rumors about Kitt using anabolic steroids and other performance enhancing drugs.
Verne thought it worked, but to listen to them talk now he could see Kitt was selling something to somebody.
Besides, he’d seen those semis with his own eyes, rolling through town with the Circle K hay bales strapped on.
He’d have to get craftier. No way would Kelly have gone for all these new-fangled ideas happening on his land.
The Kelly ancestors would all have to be turning over in their graves.
Artificial insemination? It just wasn’t right.
Farmers made a living off their land. Not off other people’s animals; not trying to do God’s own work.
That was stealing, and Kitt was clearly stealing from everyone.
“Verne, I think you’re done for tonight,” the bartender said. Verne was too far gone in thought to reply. After a long pregnant pause, Verne moved his glassy-eyed stare and focused on the bartender.
“I’ll make sure he lives on!” With that, Verne wobbled off the seat, fell forward, but stayed on his feet, and kept his back to Kitt.
His rented one bedroom was a five-minute walk from the bar.
Perfect amount of time to plan. He stepped out into the cool night air, saw the Kelly truck parked right up front and dug in his pants pocket for his pocketknife.
He palmed it and kept on walking. He mumbled as he jammed the knife in the front tire, then he went to the back tire.
It didn’t matter the parking lot was full of people, or Kitt’s truck was directly under the only light in the parking lot.
Verne was oblivious to everything but the plan formulating in his head.
=?=
Kitt slid from the back seat of Jimmy’s crew cab pickup truck and gave another quick thank-you before absently shutting the door.
The clouds covered the moon, and it took a minute for his eyes to adjust as he walked up the front porch steps to his cabin.
It was somewhere around four in the morning.
His truck was still out front of the bar, two tires were flat, and by the time he found out about it, the sheriff was involved.
Verne sat cuffed in the back seat of the squad car, and Kitt went through twenty questions with the officer who brought him outside for a statement.
A formal statement of what? Kitt didn’t know.
Verne stared him down the entire time he talked to the officer which was pretty much the same look he’d gotten from Verne for most of his life.
Verne hadn’t ever liked him. He gave Kitt that crazy-eyed stare, and Kitt assumed all this meant Verne still hadn’t gotten over being fired.
This wasn’t the first time Verne did something stupid like this, but it was the first time he’d done it so publicly, which meant his anger must really be festering.
Lily mentioned seeing Verne in town a couple of times, totally smashed very early in the day.
Gossip had Verne the town derelict. He couldn’t find more than a day job and drank pretty much all the time.
Kitt also heard Verne had gone through every bit of his savings and regularly spouted claims to Kelly land, but it hadn’t ever been this malicious before.
Hell, he hadn’t even seen Verne inside the bar tonight.
Once Verne got carted off to jail, the debate started on whether to change the tires there or leave it until tomorrow. He had a spare, so did Jimmy. They rolled up their sleeves and changed one tire with his spare and then the other tire with Jimmy’s spare which immediately went flat.
The entire time they worked, a tipsy JoLynne sat outside, chatting with everyone about how ‘in love’ Kitt looked.
How did she see that? What was even odder and totally uncomfortable, most of the women agreed with JoJo.
It was like unseen radar every female in the place possessed.
Kitt was so ready to get the hell out of there he couldn’t work those tires off his truck fast enough.
The only good thing going Kitt’s way, Austin finally stopped texting about one forty-five in the morning, saying he was going to bed.
Two hours from the time the bar gave last call, Kitt and Micah loaded in Jimmy’s truck and got a ride home. They owed Jimmy big since neither had to call for a ride.
Kitt opened his front door to see his television casting shadows from his bedroom door.
A smile tugged at his lips, and Kitt realized again, for about the millionth time since meeting Austin, he had no say in his own life.
Austin slept soundly in his bed, waiting for him to get home.
Kitt dropped his suit jacket and tie on the chair, toed off his shoes, and a groggy Austin opened his eyes.
Kitt undressed and stopped by the bathroom to wash the black marks from the dirty tire off his hands. Austin moved in the middle of the bed, the covers were lifted and Kitt slid in, taking Austin in his arms.
“I’m so glad you didn’t listen to me.” Kitt ran his nose along Austin’s neck, and into his hair, breathing him in.
“I wanted you to be happy to see me.” Austin’s voice was laced with deep sleep as he nuzzled into Kitt. They lay in their normal position, Kitt on his back, Austin spread across him.
“It’s been a night,” Kitt said, yawning loudly.
“You smell like dirty rubber.”
“That would be the double flats,” Kitt said, and Austin stayed quiet.
“Did she win?” How did Austin so easily pick up that he didn’t want to talk about the flats?
“Absolutely! Miss Spring Fling of the ball. I didn’t see her again until it was time to leave.”
“Good for her! I got Mr. Spring Fling four years runnin’. Great honor indeed.” Austin chuckled, his breath tickling Kitt’s chest.
“I knew you had to remember Spring Fling, even though you acted like you never heard of it before!” Kitt said into the dark room.
“I missed you tonight. Good night, I love you.”
“I love you, too.”