When I get into the city nothing feels right. It's dark. It seems lonely. It seems like I don't belong here anymore. It doesn't take long for me to track down Jackie, my friend I used to run the streets with. She's still sleeping under the same bridge and has no plans to change anything. God, it feels like yesterday that I was out here with her, but I've changed so much that I feel dirty being on the streets.
I've slept in someone's piss for two nights now and I can't fucking take it!
"You want to hit it?" Jackie asks, holding out a pipe to me.
I stare at it and Brandt's face keeps flashing to my head.
"No." I get to my feet and shove my few things into my backpack and start walking down the street.
"Kicker!" Jackie calls out my old nickname and I cringe.
I can't believe at one time I loved that nickname. I got the nickname because I was known for kicking when we got into trouble. It started after I was raped. It held strong because of the many times I got in trouble with police and I'd try to kick out the back window of the cop car to get free. I'd kick anyone that caught up to me.
"Fuck," I groan as tears fill my eyes.
Fuck Donna for showing redemption. Fuck Brandt for making me fall in love. Fuck me for ever allowing this life to be mine.
"Jolene?" Donna says into the phone with panic when I call.
"Mom," I cry into the phone as I wipe at my face.
"Baby, where are you?" She's crying too and it only makes me sob harder.
"I took a bus back to New York." I wipe my face.
"Oh, baby. I'm so, so sorry. Garrison told me what happened. Jo, he didn't mean that."
I snicker and roll my eyes. "Yes, he did. And he's right. I didn't call because I'm coming back. I just...I just wanted you to know I'm okay. And I'm sorry, but I need some help. I need some money. I don't know how I'll get it, but, mom…" I start to cry louder. "I don't want to live on the streets anymore."
"Jolene," she sobs and I dart between two dumpsters so no one sees me. "Why won't you come back?"
"Oh Jesus," I groan as the million and one reasons fill my head. "I can't. I never, ever wanted to move into your house and ruin your lives."
"You're my life," she snaps at me. "You are! Not havin’ you here ruins my life."
"God, never mind." Before I can hang up, she calls my name. "What?"
"I'll send you money, baby. Where? Can I mail you a credit card somewhere? Do you have an address?"
The only address I have is an old friend's grandma's. He coulda lived with her, but he chose the streets.
"Yeah, give me a couple days to get it, okay?"
"Jolene, are you safe?"
"Yeah," I lie.
"Can you keep your phone charged? I've been trying to call you since I figured out you were gone."
"Yeah, it's charged. I'll try and keep it charged."
"Call me, baby."
"Okay. Thanks."
"Jo, I love you."
"Love you too." I think I really mean that.
In no way, shape, or form has Donna made up for everything I think I can blame on her, but she's all I have and she wants to make up for it, and right now, this is how I need her.
Convincing Jorge to let me use his grandma's address was a little harder than I thought. He wanted sexual favors in exchange, but we settled on money because I'd sooner throw myself into the river than replace what Brandt’s done to my body with someone else’s touches.
It takes five days for Donna to express-ship a credit card to the address and when it comes, it's in my name. I wasn't expecting that.
"I got the credit card. Thank you," I say into the phone. Thank god that the card came today, too, because I just spent my last five dollars at this donut shop.
"Jo, I wish you'd just come home."
"That's not my home," I lie. Home is where your heart is and my heart is definitely still in the south picking up the pieces of his life.
"Are you safe?"
"For now. I need to get a room or an apartment."
"Jolene," she says sternly. "You take that credit card and get yourself an apartment, and whatever else you might need. There's no limit. I trust you." Her voice wavers at the end, because I know she's skeptical, but I couldn't do that to her.
Old Jolene would have sold the credit card for drugs and alcohol. She would’ve been long into narcotic bliss before the card owner figured out a crack-head was running around New York City swiping their card left and right.
"I'll pay you back for everything, Donna."
"I'm your mother, call me mom." Her angry tone is loud and clear. "I'm sorry for everything you went through because of me in the past, but we're family, Jo, and I'm going to take care of you. I have the means to do it now and you're going to let me."
I ignore the mom comment and glance toward a guy that's been watching me for the past thirty minutes that I've been here.
"I've been applying places, but I don't have clothes appropriate for interviews yet so I haven't landed anything," I tell her.
"Go get yourself safe shelter, then go shopping, Jo. Please call me tomorrow."
"Mom," I blurt before she hangs up. "Brandt's not stupid, but don't...don't talk about me. Don't tell him where I am. He’s gotta move on with his life." I bite my lip hard because that thought makes the worst feelings twist in my stomach, but it’s the truth.
"All I've told him is you're safe. You're breaking him, Jo," she quietly says and I close my eyes, only to open them to the man sitting across from me at my table now.
"It's better than wrecking his whole life," I whisper and turn my back to the guy.
"You're not—" That's all I hear, because the phone's yanked out of my hand and I jump to my feet.
"Hey!" I shout and run out the door after the guy that just stole my phone.
I chase him two blocks and watch as people part and let him by.
"Fucking stop him!" I scream, running as fast as I can. He darts down an alley and I whip around the corner to him trapped at a dead end. Pulling a knife I stole from Jackie, I hold it out. "Give me my fuckin' phone."
I don't have Donna's number or the ranch's address anywhere else but on that phone, so if I don't get it back, I have no way to contact her again.
He starts walking toward me and I swing the knife.
"I'll fucking cut you. Give me the phone!" I threaten and he charges, taking me to the ground.
His hands wrap around my neck. Apparently he needs this phone enough to kill for it. Well, so do I, because any good memories I have are on that phone, and I'm not willing to lose them. Instinct and anger kicks in and I stab him, over and over in the back while he chokes me so hard I almost black out. When he becomes dead weight on top of me, I stare up at the sky that's opened up for rain, and I lay here and cry, trying to catch my breath but I'm bawling.
Why couldn't Brandt have been just some boy from town and not my step brother?
There's no questioning the asshole laying on top of me is dead, but it's not the first time I've had to fight for my life, so I push him off and fish in his pockets for my phone. He'll go unnoticed until someone follows the smell of a dead body. I've seen it dozens of times. And then he'll go to the morgue as John Doe. He doesn't even have a wallet and that's usually the first sign to being all alone in this world. I've been there. If I would have died years ago, Donna wouldn't have been contacted. She would have never known. She only found me because a certain cop thought I had potential and needed to get off the streets. He was so sick of booking me, he took it upon himself to track her down. When I was released a day later, it was into the hands of Fresh Starts Rehab Center. Months later, Donna picked me up.
Day fifteen. I only know that because Brandt texts me daily and tells me how many days it's been since I've ruined his life. His words don't say that, but that's what happened. And if I go back, it'll only get worse.
Walking out of another failed interview at a convenient store, thanks to my criminal past, my eyes dart across the street to the help wanted sign in the window of a low-end salon. I can't do it. I think back to being a little girl and doing my mom's hair, nails, makeup. 'You're gonna work in a salon for the rich and famous, Jolene.' She'd always tell me that, and then she got so wrapped up in what she was doing in her own life that my talents were pushed aside. Eventually, I was pushed aside all together.
My eyes dart three buildings down to the Cowgirl's Corral. It's a cowboy themed strip club in the heart of the city. I couldn't be a stripper. I don't have the curves needed, but maybe I could bar-back. I head across and into the dark, dank bar. All the girls are wearing cowboy hats and boots and it makes my heart rate increase. I must be a sadistic fuck to do this to myself.
"Y’all hiring?" I ask the bouncer and watch as he looks me up and down, then snorts.
"No."
"For bar-back or anything? I don’t want to strip."
He looks me over again, then sighs and stands.
"You twenty-one?"
"Yeah," I lie. I'll be twenty-one in a few weeks, anyway.
As I scrub a come stain off the VIP couch, I let out a frustrated shriek and drop my head.
"Jo, what's the problem?" my manager asks.
"I'm sick of scrubbing come!" I snap and get to my feet.
She laughs. "You're not exactly equipped to strip, sweetheart."
I frown thinking about Brandt when she says ‘sweetheart’. He still texts me everyday with how long it's been since I left. I've still yet to respond.
"Cassidy serves drinks and she's a fucking dude!" I bark, making her laugh again, but I'm serious! I'm sick of this and I've applied eight other places, but no one wants to look past my record. I can't say I blame them. I can't exactly go in claiming a cowboy from the south has changed my ways and the way I think about life.
She stares at my tiny chest a few moments, then nods. "Alright, we'll give you a chance serving. Tomorrow night. Tonight, finish cleaning the couches. And when you're here tomorrow night, I expect the getup. Crop top. Short shorts. Cowboy boots. Cowboy hat. And if I were you, I'd wear a padded bra."
I shouldn't be excited I got a promotion, but it's better than scrubbing gum, alcohol, come stains, and whatever else off the couches, chairs, tables, stage, and floor.
My text from Brandt comes late tonight, but it's another reminder of how many days I've been gone. I almost reply. My feelings for him haven't changed. To even get out of bed daily I need to think about him and how he's changed my attitude toward life.
I don't reply. I grab his black cowboy hat I stole, then I grab his flannel I altered to fit me, and I lay in bed, miserable, but not enough that I'll go back and let him, Donna, or Garrison catch flak for me and Brandt falling in love.
Brandt the farmer: 43 days without you and life still sucks. I hope wherever you are, you're safe. I still love you city girl.
I stare at the text and this time I don't tear up like I've been. Every day for forty-three days he's sent me a text like this. I haven't replied. He's gotta know where I am. At least what part of the country, because Donna knows.
He's right. But life doesn't just suck. It sucks more and more every day. I just need to save up enough money and I can start looking for another job, somewhere else in the city. I stopped using Donna's credit card except to pay rent, but everything else I pay for with earned money. I definitely haven't saved up enough to be considered on my feet and taking care of myself, though.
I shouldn't reply but it's been hell ignoring these texts. I don’t know what responding's going to accomplish except darkening my heart a little more.
City girl: I'm safe farm boy. Do like I do. If you just wake up expecting life to suck, it can't get any worse
Brandt the farmer: Why'd you leave me?
He probably already knows that answer too.
City girl: Because I don't want to be the reason your life sucks anymore. I didn't go to the country to ruin your life. I went to the country to sleep until Donna kicked me out. You were the wrench in my plans, and then Garrison kicked me out.
Brandt the farmer: You coming to the country didn't ruin my life. When you left it sure did. I hate this place now Jo. Where are you?
I smirk. He knows. He's not stupid.
City girl: You're too smart to play dumb farm boy. Gotta run. I actually got a job, and this time I showed up for it.
Brandt the farmer: I love you city girl
I love...
I don't finish it and I don't hit send. I turn back to the mirror to clean up my watering eyes. My shift starts in fifteen minutes and the walk takes twenty.
My shift has never felt this long. Usually a night of being groped and trying to control rage makes the time fly, but tonight, I feel like I've been here eight hours and it's only been one. I want to go home...not just home. The country. I just want to go back to Brandt, but Garrison wasn't wrong.
I couldn't stand the shit that would be thrown at Brandt for him being with his 'sister'. Those people don't think about the circumstances behind it all. All they hear is step sister and dating. I could have met him without even knowing he was my step brother, found out later in life, and we'd still be shunned.
The days are feeling longer as winter gets closer and I've never wished to be in the south as much as I do right now. Not only is the weather warm, but my heart didn't feel so dead down there.
I wake up to Brandt's text. He's sent texts the past two days, but like usual, I didn't reply.
Brandt the farmer: Day 46. Wish you were here.
City girl: Eventually you have to stop texting Brandt
I don't want to say that, but maybe if I act like I don't care, he'll move on.
Brandt the farmer: You're right.
My eyes go wide and I want to take it back.
City girl: How’s the weather?
I hit send before I think about how stupid that is! But I don't want him to stop texting me. I don't want to be here anymore. I want to fucking go home!
My phone rings shortly after I hit send and my hope soars that Brandt's calling me. I miss his deep voice and even that twang. I miss his stupid boots. I miss my heart being happy because of him.
It's not him, though. I don't know who it is because the number's blocked.
"Yes?" I answer.
"Jolene, this is Garrison." His heavy accent comes over the phone but I don't cringe like I would have in the past, it actually makes me smile. "Before you hang up, hear me out, sweetheart. I said some things I didn't mean. It's been forty six days and it's time you come on home."
"Garrison, I am home," I huff. "Like I told Donna, I never wanted to ruin your lives. It wasn't my intention to fall for Brandt, but it's caused a big problem, so me being out of the equation is the only way to fix it."
"Only problem it's caused is he's nothin' but miserable since you've been gone. He's dealin' with a lot, Jo, and you not being here makes it harder on him. I didn't think about what I said to you before I said it. I was so worried about Brandt's future that I didn't realize he don’t want a future if you ain't here." He sighs and I roll my eyes 'cause the guy's still obviously not over it like he's trying to sell right now. "None of us do actually," he then says and my brows raise. I thought his sigh was annoyance. "Hell, Jo, you were like a ghost 'round here, but even I miss you." He chuckles. "Come on home."
I want to blurt, 'Can you pick me up?' But I don't. I close my eyes and think about the way every one of his friends and family was staring at Brandt and me the day of the fire. It was like the guy was caught kissing his actual sister or something. The only care I have about what they think is Brandt losing friends or family over me. That's the part I can't stand.
"I am home, Garrison. Thanks for the call, I gotta get ready for the bakery," I lie because I told Donna I was working at a bakery, so that's what Garrison probably believes.
It's the busiest night of the week and that means tips, but it only means tips for me if I dress worse than usual. Tonight is bra night. Surprisingly, my small tits don't deflect the assholes.
With a padded bra and hot pants that look like underwear, I put Brandt's hat on my head and frown in the mirror.
"Saving money," I mutter my reminder why I work here, then head to the bar to grab my pad.
The tips are better if you let the men grope you, but I can't take it anymore, and I keep dodging hands. The strippers don't do it for free, I sure as hell won't. It's pathetic the only time in my life I've felt together was when I was with Brandt.
It's twelve o'clock happy hour and I've got guys coming from everywhere trying to get my attention.
"Hey, what can I get you two?" I ask two newcomers that are sitting at a table closest to the door while I try to organize the money falling out of the band of my shorts.
"A shirt, for fuckin' starters." The voice makes my head snap up and when my eyes collide with his beautiful face my knees almost go out from under me.
"Maybe a beer, too. Whatever's on tap," Bo says from next to him. "I don't mind the shirt thing—oof," he groans, curling into himself when Brandt punches him.
"What the hell are you doing, Brandt?" I bark with accusation and his eyes go wide as he gets to his feet.
"What the hell you doin', Jo?" he accuses right back. "I'm just here takin' back my life." He shrugs. "You need a fuckin' shirt." He unbuttons his and wraps it around me before I can protest.
"You idiots are going to get me fired," I quietly snarl and glance around for my manager.
"That'd make it real easy for you to come back with us." Brandt stares at me and Bo glances around him.
"I could really use that beer. You don't know how long that plane ride was with this cowboy." He shakes his head and lets out a laugh.
My eyes go to Brandt and he's glaring at me like he's pissed. I spin on my heel and walk up to the bar.
"Jo, what the fuck is that? You aren't gonna make tips wearing that," the bartender says.
"I need two Guinness," I blurt and continuously glance back toward Brandt and Bo, who seem to be arguing. I slip his flannel off and smell it, receiving a cocked eyebrow from the bartender. "Beers?" I bark and he fills my tray. I rush over to Brandt and set the beers on the table. "You two need to get out of here." I drop his shirt in his lap. "I don't even know how you got in here."
"Two cowboys in a cowboy bar? Seems pretty easy to walk in here," Bo says, taking a long drink. Brandt stares at his beer then moves his gaze up to me.
"Put the fuckin' shirt on, Jo." He holds the shirt out and glares at me.
"Brandt, I need this fucking job. Please just leave," I whine.
"You don't need this fuckin' job!" he barks, standing from his chair and tipping the stool. "You're not a slut, Jo!"
My eyes go wide and I look around, seeing he's drawn the attention of the people surrounding us.
"Jo?" My manager's voice comes from behind me. "These two giving you a hard time?" She waves over Billy the bouncer and I quickly put myself between him and Brandt.
"No! They were just leaving anyway," I say and look back at Brandt.
"I'm not leaving unless she does," he growls, fists tight at his side.
"Brandt," I say, but Billy reaches around me and grabs his arm. "Please don't!" I shout.
"Jo, you don't need these assholes," Brandt says as Billy tries to pull him out. He gives him a look and laughs. "I could snap your arm in two right now. Let me the fuck go. I'm just here for my girl." The menace in his voice isn't something I've heard before. Not even when dealing with his brother.
"Billy, I'll get them out of here. I'll leave and they'll leave." I turn to my manager and frown. "I'm sorry."
"If you walk out on your shift, Jo, you're done here," she threatens.
I look at Brandt who's wearing a look like he fully expects me to and then I turn back to my manager who means nothing to me. This job means nothing to me when Brandt's standing right here.
"I quit." I yank the money from the waist of my shorts and drop it to the table, because I don't know what's my tip and what's the drinks I haven't paid for yet. Looking up at Brandt, I frown. I'd much rather be happy in this situation, but I wish it didn't happen like this. I wish he hadn't found me here.
We're escorted out by Billy and the door slams when I look back. I huff, turning to face the boys. Brandt wraps his shirt around me again. My fucking clothes and keys are in there. I roll my eyes because I know I'm not getting back in. Even for my shit. Without a word, I start marching down the street, headed to my apartment. The boys aren't saying much either, but when they do talk, I don't listen.
Even with six-foot-two Brandt, and six-foot-four Bo at my back, it doesn't stop the catcalls and men trying to get me to stop and talk to them. At one point, I have to grab Brandt's arm and pull him away from a man that's insulting my cowboy, just hoping for a fight. When I get him moving again, he grabs my hand and I don't pull away, because this is the safest I've felt since I've been back in New York.
I knock on my neighbor's door and it takes her a few minutes to open up. "Hi, I'm locked out. Do you have my spare?" I ask the old woman.
"Jolene, Jolene," she reprimands with a shake of her head and I follow her inside for my key.
"Thanks." I say, taking it and heading for my door to unlock it. When the boys walk through I slam it, locking it behind us. "Thanks a fucking lot!" I shout and throw my hands in the air, ripping Brandt's flannel off before throwing it at his face.
He sets it on the couch, raising an eyebrow at me. "You walk those streets. Alone. After work." He nods and glances back at Bo. "She walks those streets alone after work."
"Big city's nothin' like our peaceful back roads," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Jo, what the hell're you still doing here? This isn't you." Brandt's pissed. "You don't belong here! Shit!" He starts pacing. "I told myself I'd come here, I'd win you back, and everything would be fine. But none of this is working out," he grumbles, taking a seat on the couch.
"Win me back?" I snicker and look at Bo, who's standing in a corner. "If you're hungry, there's food." Hint, hint, leave the fucking room. I glare at him until he picks up on it and when he does I walk to my bedroom, looking back at Brandt and waiting for him to follow.
He sighs and gets up, shaking his head as he follows me.
I go through my drawers for clothes. "Brandt, I'm not going back south." I turn my back and take off my bra before putting his old flannel on, only realizing what I've done after doing it. Usually every day after work I put his shirt on, but I didn't mean to do it tonight.
His eyes stare at his shirt. "You kept it," he whispers, his eyebrows pulling together. "Jo, we belong together. You gotta come home. Please. This place? This isn't your home."
I frown at him because he's right. It's not anymore, and I've realized that since coming back, but I can't go back to that fucking town.
"No, Brandt, it's not your home. This is where I grew up. This is my home. Yeah, we belong together, in a different life. Not this one when our parents are married." When I notice his eyes on my underwear, I turn back to my drawers.
"This is the only life we get to live, Jo. After this, there's nothing. I don't want to live my only life without the girl I love. Period. If you're not coming home..." He huffs. "Hell, maybe me moving here ain't such a bad idea. No one here knows our parents are married." He tries to smile but it isn't as bright as the ones I remember.
"You'd stay here for me?" I question skeptically.
"I'd do anything for you, city girl."
"Brandt, why the fuck didn't you tell me you were coming?" I huff and slide a pair of shorts on. "We could have avoided me just getting fired. I need a fuckin' job, ya know? No one wants to hire me with a record except a sleazy bar like that." I cross my arms over my chest.
"Like you said. I'm not stupid. I knew me telling you would cause you to run. Apparently you like leaving." He raises an eyebrow at me and crosses his arms over his chest.
"I didn't fucking run! I was told it would be better for your life if I got out of town, so I fucking did. Because I fucking love you. I left so you wouldn't go through hell after everything I caused. All that shit that happened before I left was my fucking fault. Everything with your brother...my fucking fault." I clamp down on my lip thinking about how I left him right when he had to deal with the death of his brother.
Even if he didn't like the guy, I know that had to hurt him. I know what kind of man Brandt is.
He clenches his jaw a few times then sits on my bed. "Garrison told us what happened, eventually, once I figured out you weren't in your room. I just kinda figured you were sleeping it off, but when I walked in and you weren't there… Jo, my world shattered." He takes a breath. "I can't live without you any more. And I'm sorry I acted that way at your work, but come on. You can do way better than that place." He glances up at me. "I know of a place hiring. You'd have to move home for it. I hear hours are pretty good. And your co-workers are pretty awesome."
When I start to smirk, I quickly wipe it away. "Stop. Go home, Brandt," I huff.
"My home is wherever you are." He kicks off his boots and relaxes back on the bed. "We'll need to get a new mattress, however. This one's kinda lumpy."
My mouth drops open. "Brandt, we are not together anymore!" I bark.
He lets out a chuckle and sits up. "Here I thought you were just runnin' because of the whole our-parents-are-married thing." He stares at me for a moment, his eyes searching my face, then shakes his head. "Okay then." He grabs his boots and slides them back on, standing from the bed. With one long glance, he opens the door and walks out of my bedroom. "Bo. Food down, we're leaving."
"Stop!" I blurt and follow him. "Stop. Bo, eat your fuckin' food," I say and watch as he stares at both of us mid-bite. "Stop saying I ran," I snap at Brandt and yank him back into my bedroom, slamming the door. "I didn't fucking run. In fact, I've never walked as slow as I did when I was getting on that fucking bus." I smile meekly, unable to stop staring at him. "You two can't leave in the middle of the night."
"I've been through hell these past two months! I'm the reason my brother's dead, I'm the reason my dad's ranch has to fuckin' start over, and I'm the reason your mom isn't speaking to my dad. You got to scurry back to the city and live with none of that shit hanging over your head, making tips on your fuckin' tits hanging out of your bra. And now, I get to go home and try to nurse a mother fuckin' broken heart, Jo!" He swings the door open. "I never considered us broken up, city girl. I never lost faith that you'd come to your senses and come back to me and we'd work it out together. But there's no way in hell I'm staying here tonight if you're as done as you say you are." He storms out and yells at Bo, "Food down. We're fuckin' leaving!"
"You're not fucking going anywhere! Eat your food!" I scream at Bo and he turns his back to both of us with a shake of his head and continues to eat while looking at his phone. "Stay with me, Brandt. Here. Stay here and...live with me here in the city."
Brandt takes a deep breath and spins, glaring at me. "You just told me you're over me. We're not together anymore. Remember that?" He raises his eyebrows. "I don't play these games, Jo."
"I never fucking said I was over you," I bark. "I'm not fucking over you. I’m setting you free!" I shove my hands out like I'm releasing something. "Be free! Free from shitty looks, and comments, and people thinking you’re fucking weird for dating your step sister. Free!" I make the movement with my hands a few more times while he stares at me.
"I don't want to be fucking free! Fuck them, Jo! This is our goddamned life!" He runs his hands through his hair, trying to calm himself. With a shake of his head he whispers, "I never want to be free from you, city girl."
"Well here I am. In the city." I gesture to my closed curtain. "This is where I'm going to stay, Brandt."
He walks over to me, cupping my face in his hands. It feels so good for him to touch me again. I need this.
"I want to be with you, Jo. I want us together."
"Stay with me," I whisper, pushing my face against his hand and grabbing his wrist. "In the city."
"I love you, Jo," he whispers.
"I love you too, farm boy. I didn't stop, I just didn't want to wreck your life."
"I'm gonna look awfully funny in the city." The light in his eyes back.
"Wait, you're not coming home? I gotta fly back by myself?" Bo speaks up, food on his fork and eyes wide. "I can't walk back into that town without you! Your daddy's gonna kill me!"
"It's Garrison's fault this happened. He'll have to live with it," Brandt says.
"Brandt, don't lose your family over me. God, this is why I left, so this wouldn't happen." I say it, but I don't let go of his arm.
"You're my family, Jo. My father's blood, but he made this mess. I'm not losing anyone. Don't you worry."
I do worry, but I want to be with him.