Chapter Six
Jo
“ I had already been in prison for almost 8 years when I met Hayes. It took some heart-to-heart after he found out what I was in for to convince him that I was innocent. After a few days in the infirmary for both of us, he decided he could believe me.”
I’d be more concerned except Lochlan seems amused by their history.
“And, what about him? Did he try to convince you that he was innocent, too?”
He scoffs.
“No, he took full accountability for what he did. I think he was kind of proud of it, honestly. He lived by a code, and I liked that about him.”
“He said that you saved his life.”
“I spent two years with him before I got out. There’s a bond that can’t be broken when you go through something like that with someone,” he mutters.
“10 years in prison…” I mutter in disbelief.
“Your father exonerated me a year before my sentence was up. Cleared my record.” He registers my unchanging expression.
“You knew that, though, didn’t you?”
“I did know, yes. ”
“And, you still wanted to work here.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I hesitate, staring back out across the yard for a moment.
“I saw the job posting online, and I don’t judge people before I know them. I did my share of research before I applied, and I knew what I was getting into.”
His eyes narrow imperceptibly, and unconvinced, but he doesn’t question me further.
He’s looking at me so closely, and I’m almost afraid he can see straight through to what I’m hiding.
“I need to run to the junkyard to find a part,” he states suddenly.
“Will you come with me?”
His dark ocean eyes carry a depth of wisdom beyond his years.
He’s trying to call my bluff, to see if I really trust him or not.
He’s testing me.
When I don’t respond right away, though, he relents.
“I’m not willing to leave you here unattended. Either come with me, or you can take off for the day,” he adds.
“No, I’ll go with you.” Going home for the day is absolutely not what I want to do.
He seems surprised as he gets up to go get his truck.
He pulls the green Bronco right up to the porch steps, leaving it idling as he gets out and comes to my side.
When he offers his hand, helping me step over the damp dirt at the bottom of the porch and opening my door for me, heat creeps up my neck at his gesture.
The car is well-kept and the engine runs smoothly, but it’s like stepping back in time.
The front bucket seat has slightly worn leather, and the stick shift juts straight up out of the floor.
It almost feels silly to only buckle a single lap belt in the front seat of a car in this day and age.
“How long have you had this?” I ask halfway down the mountain to break the silence.
“It was my grandfather’s baby, he bought it to surprise my grandmother for one of their anniversaries. I don’t think she really gave a shit but he would have been buried in it if he could’ve,” he admits in amusement, but with licks of sorrow.
There’s a beat of silence because I honestly don’t know what to say.
I’m not always great at figuring out the right words.
“What do you need from the junkyard?” I ask, changing the subject instead.
“One of the tractors needs a new seat.”
I’ve never been to a junkyard, and I’m not sure how it works, but I imagine a fenced area with rottweilers like in the movies.
And, when we arrive, I’m not far off.
We walk into a tiny little building with a single countertop and a couple of tires hanging on the walls, and an old TV mounted in the corner.
There’s a thick smell of gasoline and sweat.
I keep my hands clasped together so I don’t accidentally touch anything.
“What can I help you with, Mr. Dane?” The man behind the counter is most likely the culprit of the smell.
His clothes are stained to the point of filth, and his hair is slicked back, not likely with gel.
“Any Ferguson tractors back there?” Lochlan asks the guy whose name tag says ‘Jerry’ scrawled across it in Sharpie.
“Might have a few. Tractors are parked in the far back corner.” He nods his head to a side door that I assume leads to the actual “junk yard.”
“Thanks.” Lochlan starts that way, glancing briefly to make sure I’m following.
“Your girl can keep me company though,” he winks at me, and I’m not sure I stopped my face from twisting.
Lochlan turns to him, eerily slow, and Jerry balks.
“It was just a joke, man.”
Without a word, Lochlan ushers me in front of him and out the door, mumbling something along the lines of, “…beat fuckers off with a stick.”
“What did you say?” I ask, not thinking I heard him right.
“Nothing.”
“Do you know him? He knew your name?”
“People tend to know who I am around here, unfortunately. I used to wear my hood up everywhere I went, but it didn’t matter. Not enough guys around here my height to fool anyone.”
“You shouldn’t have to hide.”
“ Shouldn’t and have to don’t belong in that sentence together, darlin’,” he drawls, his voice haunted by the past.
Despite all of my mixed feelings about Lochlan Dane and his grumpiness, my cheeks still heat when he calls me that.
It’s a common term of endearment in the south, so common that it’s impersonal.
But, I’m afraid that I like it.
We walk past old vehicles in every variety, a couple of old tow trucks, piles and piles of trashed parts, but thirty minutes later, we leave empty-handed with a promise from creepy Jerry that he’ll keep an eye out for what Lochlan needed.
Once we’re back at the sanctuary, I start to go back inside, but he stands motionless by the truck for several seconds.
“Everything alright?”
“I think one of the tires is going flat.” He cocks his head slightly and curses.
“I must’ve run over a screw at the junkyard.”
He calls Hayes, who joins us shortly, and they work together to pull off the damaged tire and put on the spare.
I’ve never seen anyone jack a car up or lift a tire, or the way muscles flex when they do those things…
Watching men work is a new interest of mine as I sit on the porch steps, admiring the view.
“Hey, girl,” Seiver says from beside me, suddenly, making me jump out of my skin.
“Woah, sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I was… Distracted,” I say as Lochlan lifts the old tire and puts it in the back of the Bronco.
Seiver snorts at my obvious discomfort.
“I used to be able to do that too, ya know.” He bounces his bushy eyebrows in a corny way, making me laugh.
“Do what?” Lochlan asks as he walks toward us, wiping his hands with a rag.
“Nothing.” I glance at Seiver, and he smirks, but doesn’t say anything.
“I can’t believe you took the Bronco out and didn’t take me,” Hayes huffs from behind him.
“I’ve only been asking for two damn years.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Let me drive it.”
“No.”
“I know I’m not as pretty as Jo, but damn.” Hayes feigns annoyance.
“No one is as pretty as Jo,” Seiver adds.
I bump the ornery, sweet old man with my shoulder.
“You’re my favorite,” I whisper, making him smile.
“Incoming,” Hayes says suddenly.
I look up at the same time Lochlan looks away from me and to the four-wheeler approaching us.
“Boss, sorry to interrupt, but there’s something you’ve gotta see,” one of the workers says.
“What is it, Jordy?”
Jordy glances at me before looking back at Lochlan silently.
He doesn’t want to say it in front of me.
He’s one of the more clean-cut guys, hardly appearing as someone who works a labor-intensive job because of his well-kept demeanor.
“Jo, stay inside the rest of the day. Let me know when you leave.” Lochlan meets Jordy at the four-wheeler, and they speak to each other in hushed tones before they all take off across the yard in a direction I haven’t been yet.
I piddle around for an hour inside before I’m supposed to be done for the day, but I can’t seem to make myself leave.
It’s getting closer to summer, so the days are longer.
Lochlan told me I wasn’t allowed to be here at night, but the sun is setting later each day.
He walks in through the back door into the kitchen sometime after 6:30 and skids to a stop when he sees me sitting at the table with my textbooks.
He backpedals, dropping a small shoe box on top of the washer near the back door.
“Don’t look in that,” he mutters as he passes by me to get into the refrigerator.
Well, now all I want to do is look in the box.
Why is it a secret?
“Are you planning to stay much longer?” He asks gruffly, downing a can of beer in nearly one drink.
“I’m about to leave, I just wanted to get some studying done before I went home.”
“I’m heading out in about twenty minutes, be gone by then.” He’s climbing the stairs before I can respond.
Not even a minute later, I hear the pipes in the ceiling and assume he started the shower.
Being in his home while he’s showering feels like an invasion of privacy.
I don’t think twice before stuffing all of my materials back into my backpack and slinging it over my shoulder, but I still hesitate to leave.
What’s in the box?
The water is running steadily upstairs as I tiptoe to the back door and crack the lid of the box with the tip of my acrylic fingernail.
I gasp, dropping the lid and running before I have a chance to process what I just saw.
Animal heads.
Two cats, a rabbit, a bird, and a raccoon.
Cold, foggy eyes, stained fur, and their tongues loose from their mouths.
A horrifying display of cruelty despite there not being blood in the box.
I shouldn’t have looked.
I’ve been sitting in my car way too long, gripping my steering wheel, when I hear the front door shut.
I look up as Lochlan locks eyes with me, the shoe box in his hand.
I shift into reverse, getting the hell out of here before I have to admit to Lochlan that I didn’t listen to him.
Where is he taking it?
It consumes me the entire drive to my parents’ house.
I should just ask him, but I don’t want to tell him that I looked.
I’m so distracted by my thoughts that I forgot my brother would be here for dinner tonight.
I see his car as I pull up the driveway to the old white colonial mansion.
Black shutters and red doors make it look wicked and charming all at once.
“It’s rude to be late,” my mother greets me sourly as I walk in through the doors.
Her short artificially blonde bob is styled impeccably, and her navy chiffon dress swings around her calves ever so properly.
“I’m not coming to dinner, I already ate.”
“Of course, you did. You’re expected at the dinner table. Pick at a salad for all I care.” She stalks off across the foyer, click-clacking in her shiny silver heels.
“You need more highlights in your hair, make an appointment at the salon,” she adds before she walks through the doors to the parlor.
I’m sure my father and brother are in there having a glass of scotch.
She’s always hated my brown hair and insisted that I start bleaching it when I was barely 12.
Every time I try to go for a more natural balayage, she never fails to mention how it’s not blonde enough.
Unfortunately for her, my boring chocolate brown eyes can’t be changed as easily.
If it were acceptable, she’d insist I wear colored contacts.
I reluctantly follow her into the parlor because if I don’t, then I’ll never hear the end of it.
As expected, my brother is sitting in a chair across from my father while my mother scolds one of the house staff.
“I have a campaign speech on Friday, JoAnna, you’re expected to be on time,” my brother says without bothering with any fake niceties first.
“I wasn’t planning to attend.”
“You have to, it’s proper.”
“Don’t talk to me about proper, Conrad,” I throw back at him with more spite than I ever afford anyone.
My older brother is the only person in the world who can make me so mad.
He squints his eyes at me, and I know he’s fighting all of his internal demons begging him to behave as immaturely on the outside as he is on the inside.
He’s nearly ten years my senior but has never grown up.
This run for Governor is the biggest acting performance I’ve ever seen.
“JoAnna, you’ll be at the speech,” my father states without question.
He’s not to be defied, he’s made that clear my entire life.
“I have class.” I don’t have class.
He sets his glass down with a loud clunk on the table beside him, making my chest tense.
“Skip it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now that we’re all in agreement, let’s eat.”
* * *
On Friday afternoon, when I pull up to the farmhouse, there is a porch full of people.
All the parolees are standing in front of Lochlan as if they’re having a meeting, but the conversation completely dies off when I get out of my car.
“Now, that is the Princess of North Carolina. I thought we got swindled,” Frank croons boldly.
Despair overtakes me as I climb the porch steps, making me hang my head.
I had to wear the outfit that my mother picked out for my brother’s speech tonight.
I have to leave as soon as I finish working and go straight there.
My normally work appropriate clothing is already more dressed up than is needed for this place, but today I am wearing a bright red fit and flare dress that hits above my knees and strappy nude heels.
“Frank, I’ll rip your fucking tongue out if you talk to her like that, again. Address her with respect.” I look up as Lochlan shoves Frank down the porch to make him leave out the back way.
I can only imagine my cheeks rival the color of my dress.
“I have an event later,” I mumble to no one in particular.
“You do look like a princess, ma’am. Respectfully,” Curtis adds, dipping his head after Lochlan smacks the back of it as he walks by.
“Anyone else?” Lochlan asks, obviously annoyed by the disturbance.
There’s a chorus of “no’s” before he turns his back to walk inside.
Jordy slips me a thumbs up, but Lochlan must sense it because he snaps his head to the side, and everyone scatters like flies.
I, unfortunately, have to follow Lochlan into the bear cave and I know he’s going to be pissed that I made a scene.
Now, I’ll get the silent treatment the rest of the day.
“If you’re here trying to get male attention, then you can get lost. I don’t tolerate that shit,” Lochlan snaps as soon as we’re in his kitchen.
He’s pacing back and forth, rubbing his hand across his face.
“What?”
“I’m not an idiot, Jo. You’re the same age as some of those guys. They see a beautiful woman and they lose their fucking minds. If this is some game to you, then it ends here.”
“That isn’t fair.”
He shrugs, not backing down from his accusation, and something inside of me boils up until it spills over.
“I didn’t dress like this for them. I didn’t even dress like this for myself, but I’m not going to apologize for the way that I look. If they can’t control themselves, then that’s on them. Or, you, since you act like you can’t control them!” This inner fury is coming from somewhere else but I’m unleashing it all on Lochlan because he chose the wrong day to be an asshole.
“I’m following all of your rules and I’m doing a damn good job despite winging it half of the time because you want nothing to do with me. Adding new rules because I’m too pretty is low even for you.”
The silence that fills the room is suffocating.
There seems to be a beat of uncertainty in his eyes, and I think he might apologize.
“Maybe it’s best if you leave.”
Of course, I should have expected this.
He warned me that he’d fire me at any given issue, and here we are.
“You know what? I think you’re right.” I’m out the front door in seconds, flinging my backpack into my car with enough force to rattle the interior.
He steps out onto the porch as my car catapults a dirt cloud into the air as I speed away.