Billie
Carter slammed the bags down on the bed. Billie followed him into the room, shutting the door behind them and wondering when he'd stop acting so fucking cranky.
The room was filthy, with strange scrapes and smears on the walls at odd intervals. The corners were filled with dust and ghostly tangles of hair. The green carpet was the color of baby puke and looked like it hadn't been vacuumed since the '80s. A dead roach was on its back in front of the television set.
Maybe it laughed itself to death watching our little fuck-up on TV, Billie thought sourly.
Carter went into the bathroom and left the door open. Billie saw him looking in the mirror, running his fingers through what was left of his hair and groaning. She followed him in and took a look at herself.
It was...not quite a pixie cut, though it was certainly short enough. It was kind of uneven and spiky in places, and there was one area near her left temple where she saw that he'd gone a little too far with the clippers and almost exposed her scalp. Still, at least it wasn't totally grotesque, and she definitely looked different.
“Not bad for a first attempt,” she said, brushing at it with her fingers and trying to get the unruly strands to stay down. “I wouldn't register you for cosmetology school yet, but all in all…”
Carter shot her a dirty look and pushed past her into the room.
Billie followed, her resentment finally boiling over. “You know what? I'm done with the silent treatment. I already acknowledged that I fucked up bad, and I apologized for it. If you want more apologies, just give me the number that'll satisfy you and I'll say them. I'm not a mind reader and I don't know what the hell else you want from me, so you're just going to have to use your words like a big boy. You want to keep me around? I'm here. You want to cut me loose? Fine, I'm gone. But unless you're planning to give me a fucking spanking, I'm sick of this whole 'disappointed daddy' routine you're so high on right now.”
“Is that what you want?” Carter exploded. His teeth were bared like a cornered animal, and his eyes burned with fury. “You want a fucking spanking?”
“If that'll put this bullshit to rest, then yeah, you're goddamn right I do!” she shot back.
Carter's powerful arms snaked out, grabbing Billie before she even had time to blink. He jerked her toward him and sat down on the edge of the bed, putting her over his knees.
Jesus, is he really going to do this? she thought.
He yanked her dress up and pulled down her panties, and a moment later, she heard a sharp crack as his palm connected with her backside. The pain came a split-second after, sizzling across her skin like butter in a skillet. She grit her teeth, refusing to cry out.
“I had a fucking plan,” he snarled loudly, raising his arm again.
Crack. The pain erupted again, sharper this time.
“Because that's what I fucking do.”
Crack. Another jolt, the other buttock this time, almost like an electric shock that sent spasms up into the small of her back.
“That's why they ride with me, why they depend on me—because I make plans, and backup plans, and backup plans for those.”
Crack, crack, crack. The sensation had pushed her to the point where her ass felt strangely numb and glassy under his hand, the pain seeming to come to her from a great distance, like the light from the stars.
“And every plan I've made, you've fucked up. Just by being in the fucking bar, by yelling to us from outside the bank, by looking like you look and acting like you fucking act so I can't...”
Crack.
“...just...”
Crack.
“...let...”
Crack.
“...you...”
Crack.
“...go!”
The last smack was the cruelest and Billie did cry out this time—not because of the pain, not because no one had ever done this to her before, but because a door of understanding suddenly sprung open in her mind and she finally saw how Carter truly felt about her.
His surly behavior hadn't come from his anger at her for messing up at the gas station. It came from his rage and confusion at his own actions leading up to this, his real reasons for keeping her with him.
He'd made plans on top of plans, and she'd sat next to him and watched him throw them away one by one, all because of her. Because he wanted her.
In that moment, she fell in love with him.
Carter stopped, breathing heavily. Billie rolled her body over to face him and put her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her. She kissed him deeply for several seconds, their tongues reaching for each other like long-lost lovers embracing.
Then he wrapped his arms around her thighs and lifted her onto the motel desk, making hard and dirty love to her as the coyote howled and howled outside.