Chapter 4
Don’t take life so seriously. It’s not like you’re going to get out alive anyway.
-Louise Smith
Shiloh
My eyes peeled open, and my stomach rolled as the pain in my arm intensified tenfold as I took in my surroundings. I looked down searching for the cause of my pain, and found my hand covered in a cast. Well that explained it. I’d broken the same bone I’d broken when I was fourteen. Yay for me.
At least the color was cute. I loved bright pink and bright green. Really, anything that was neon colored was my favorite. The cast would at least match my New Balance shoes I’d bought as a splurge a couple of days ago.
Normally, I wouldn’t risk spending any money due to my lack of well-paying job, but I’d gotten the call from social services a few days ago asking me to come in for an interview, and I had a good feeling that I’d get it.
I graduated with my degree in social services from Texas A&M at Galveston, and then immediately started working for the State of Texas as a social worker within weeks of graduating.
My interview!
“Mother fucking son of a cockblocker.” I yelled and then jumped out of bed, purposefully blocking out the pain that radiated through my abused limb.
I’d deal with that later. I had an interview today at eleven, and if I didn’t, I’d lose my chance. Broken bone or not, I was going to that interview. It wasn’t the first broken bone, and wouldn’t be the last. I was a clumsy person, and I’d broken five bones in my life, that is if you didn’t count the four ribs, left foot, and collarbone that Zander, my ex-boyfriend, had given me the last time I’d left him.
My sluggish brain finally started to work, and I realized I was in a spare bedroom of sorts. My foggy mind clued me in that it must be James’, but I didn’t have time to do anything. If I didn’t hurry, I’d be late.
I could tell by the sun peeking into the blinds that it must be early morning, and I still had a good two hours before I had to be there. However, I still had to get home, and then start getting ready.
Sneaking to the bedroom door, I opened it silently and peeked my head out. The hall was still and the house beyond sounded silent as well. Cautiously, I tiptoed out until I hit the bathroom, and rushed inside, closing it silently behind me.
I made quick work of the facilities, and then started searching for shoes.
I didn’t find any, but I also didn’t see James, so it was a partial win. I ascertained that he wasn’t in the house, and stopped tiptoeing around, and started to curse when I still couldn’t find any shoes.
Finally breaking down, I walked cautiously into James’ room, and froze. The area itself was pretty awesome. The bed, dresser and nightstands were made of rustic pine, and had a homey feel to it. The bedspread was dark gray, and bunched down at the bottom of the bed, as if he’d gotten up just moments ago, and planned to come back shortly.
I resisted the urge to make the bed, and walked to his closet, opening the door cautiously.
The closet itself was ordered, even if everything he owned was all black, minus the stack of dirty stained jeans that were folded neatly on the top shelf. There was another stack of cleaner jeans next to the other stack, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Organized man.” I said as I dropped down to my knees and started to poke around the piles of boots at the bottom of the closet.
Instead of leaving them in a disorganized pile, my OCD took over, and I started to straighten and align the boots in order of size against the back wall. My efforts uncovered a safe that you had to have a handprint to get into, and I was proud of James for having that with a young child in the house.
A lot of parents didn’t think about that detail, and it took an awful act of a child being curious to make them realize that just having guns laying around wasn’t safe. It also didn’t matter what income level, ethnicity, or party affiliate the gun owner was, it happened to everybody, gun safety or not.
I hit pay dirt once I reached the bottom of the shoe pile by finding a pair of Nike sandals that would tighten at the top of the foot.
“Yes,” I hissed as I sat on my butt and slipped my feet into the sandals.
Yes, it’d be a clumsy walk, but I’d make it in no time with my determination. That, and it wasn’t raining anymore.
Getting to my feet, I shuffled out the bedroom door and walked up to the living room window. Seeing no sign of movement, I used my ninja skills, and slunk out the back door and made my way around the side of the duplex, being careful to stay in the shadows that the morning sun casted.
Once I made it to the side of the garage, I looked to make sure that no one was in the lot, before walking sedately to the open front gate. I’d gotten to the road before my name was shouted.
Whom it was shouted by, I didn’t know, but I didn’t stop. In fact, I turned on the turbo blast, and took off like a shot. My adrenaline was pumping, and only pushed me faster. I so did not want to talk to anyone right now, and least of all my prick of a brother.
It’d been in my first hour on the floor of the bathroom that I decided just to say, ‘fuck it’ and ignore him from now on. I was tired of putting forth all the effort with my family and getting nothing in return. My dad. My brother. Brothers. Mother. No more, I was done. Finished.
“Fuck,” a man grunted from a good distance behind me.
I let the first smile break over my face in weeks. Did I mention that I was a sprinter, as well as a long distance runner? Yeah, I kicked ass in high school. I broke state records in the 100-meter dash and the 400 meters.
Although my distance running was lacking compared to my sprinting, I still did good when I put my mind to it. Cross-country kept me in shape during the off-season, and I made myself stick with cross-country even though I hated it with every fiber of my being. Sprinters weren’t made to go the distance.
Another curse sounded from behind me, and I let out a laugh this time. Spying my shortcut, which I rarely used lately due to the mud, I took it despite my reservations. I lost my sandals in the first mud puddle, and had to stop to go back for them, although, I didn’t put them back on. I was in the forest now, and it was very unlikely there would be anything but twigs on the ground.
Yelling sounded somewhere behind me, but I kept going. My lungs had that good burn going, and I felt exhilarated.
Running was my therapy. Although I sucked balls at the distance, I kept doing it even though I hated it.
“I’m gonna beat your ass when I catch you, you little shit.” Sam yelled.
I cackled. My ass he was going to catch me. I knew these woods like the back of my hand. I’d met with the owner, a lovely woman in her late seventies, and asked her if it would be all right. She’d readily agreed, saying I was a sweet ‘child’ and so I spent my days off exploring.
That, and hidden stashes of things in the woods, planned an escape route, and made maps of the woods for just in case.
“Mother fucking son of a bitch. Goddammit.” Sam growled.
Brother bear has a potty mouth.
Ten minutes passed before I found my opening in the woods that would lead me beside the old shitty hotel grounds. I’d just stepped foot on the compact gravel when an arm, attached to a beefy torso, snuck its way around my torso and stopped me in my tracks.
The breath I’d just taken in gushed out of me, and I doubled over the arm as my feet left the ground.
I knew instantly who it was. James, with his tight ass covered in tight greasy blue jeans, tossed me over his shoulder just as I’d managed to get another breath.
“Put me down, you big bastard.” I growled and started kicking.
“Not a chance, Speedy Gonzales.” James laughed and headed to his big mother of a bike.
“No, really. Put me down. I have,” I started, and then stopped abruptly. “What time is it?”
“Nine fifteen.” He answered but didn’t stop walking.
“An hour and forty five minutes before I have to be at my job interview. Not to mention that I have to walk because my truck broke down.” I ground out.
Pushing up so my good arm rested on his back, I looked around for a possible escape route.
“And you didn’t just ask one of us to drive you home because...why?” He asked.
I did notice that he’d veered from the direction of his bike and started to cross the street to the diner, and my apartment.
“Because I didn’t want to see that big bonehead right there.” I emphasized the insult with a finger pointed in my brother’s direction as he finally made it out of the woods.
He glared at me as James laughed when he saw whom I was pointing at. “Yeah, I don’t blame you. Let’s get you dressed, and I’ll take you to your interview. Where’s it at?”
I didn’t know. I meant to look it up when I was at the library a few days ago, but I’d forgotten. “The social services building.”
“Okay, I know where that’s at.” He said as he started to climb the stairs.
“Thank you for taking care of me.” I said to James’ ass.
“You’re welcome, Speedy.” He said and set me down on my feet in the living room of my apartment.
I glared at him.
When I found that my glare didn’t affect him at all, I went to the dresser that I’d scored off the side of the road, grabbed the outfit I’d set out on top of it days ago, and searched through my closet for my secondhand knee high boots.
Sam entered shortly after I made my way to the bathroom with my clothes, and I wanted to beat my head against the wall when a thrill of happiness shot through me at the idea of my brother actually paying attention to me.
I knew the first time I saw him that I’d totally forget every single thing I’d been telling myself for the past seven months. I was so starved for a connection that I would take anything I could get.
Surveying myself in the mirror, I grimaced at what I saw.
My eyes had dark bags underneath my eyes, my palm that I could see was scraped up and raw from my fall, and I had other scratches and bruises covering my arms. Grimacing at the sight, I walked to the shower and turned it on full blast.
I stepped in without waiting for it to get warm, because, let’s face it, I’m not paying enough in rent to get a hot shower. I washed my hair as best as I could with one hand, soaped up my body, skipped shaving my legs, and hopped back out within five minutes.
I blow dried my hair, thanking God that I had great hair that blow dried straight and not frizzy, making it possible not to worry about a flat iron.
My makeup was minimal at best. Each movement of my arm caused pain to shoot through me, and I was gritting my teeth and saying that the makeup was done with just mascara and a little concealer.
I was dressed all the way up to the part where I had to zip, and then cursed myself. “Fuck, what the hell am I supposed to do now?”
Doing the only thing I could, I opened the door a crack and peered out at the apartment. James was reclining in my recliner with a dirty bathroom towel underneath him to keep the grease from transferring to the fabric.
Sam was propped up against the wall, just as silent as James, glowering at the wall in front of him.
Both men’s eyes transferred to the door as it cracked open more and waited.
“I need someone to zip and button my pants.” I said through the crack.
Sam’s eyes went towards the ceiling, and James chuckled as he got up and made his way to the bathroom. He pushed it open without waiting, and his hands found their way to the zipper.
I sucked in the slight pudge of my belly, and silently cursed myself for the fries I’d snacked on the day before yesterday. I’d never be skinny. I’ve always had a slight ‘chunkiness’ to my build, no matter the amount of exercise I got in.
I thanked the good Lord above that the pants zipped and buttoned without popping a seam, and sighed as he took a step away from me.
The man was sex personified. He was so damn sexy that I wanted to throw myself at him. However, I’d learned better from my ex-boyfriend, Zander. The man had royally fucked me over when it came to men that I would forever hesitate to involve myself in another relationship.
I’d always think twice before making myself vulnerable again. Not to mention that James’ hands were nearly twice the size of Zander’s, which only meant that he’d hit twice as hard.
No thank you.
It didn’t matter that I knew James would never hurt me. Push a man far enough and he’d retaliate. At least that’s what I’d learned from past relationships.
I’d had two abusive boyfriends in my life that I’d managed to get out of before anything bad had happened. Then Sebastian had been hurt in his motorcycle wreck, and I’d lost my objectiveness. My head was so worried about Sebastian and his son Johnny’s well-being that I’d failed to watch over my own self.
By the time I’d figured it out, it was too late. I was already too deeply ensconced to get out, and Sebastian was too busy to be messed with. Who the hell knows where my father was, and who the hell cared.
James snapped his fingers in front of my face, and I ripped myself from my thoughts, blushing as I realized that I’d been staring at his dick for the last who the heck knows how long.
“Sorry.” I muttered.
“No problem, Speedy. Anything else?” He asked.
I held my foot up in answer, and he bent down to zip the side of my boots up. “Make sure you get the pants tucked into the boots fairly well, or it’ll look weird.”
“I’ve been dressing a little girl for five years now. I think I can handle tucking your pants into your boots. At least you’re not asking me to pull your wedgie out.”
I snickered. “That girl of yours is a hoot.”
His smile lit up the room. “Yeah, she is. I love the shit out of her. Now, I could do with a little less ‘Daddy I’ve got snot in my hair’ and a little more ‘Daddy can we go watch a movie.’ The girl sure has me wrapped around her little finger, though.”
I smiled wistfully. I’d always wanted children. In fact, I wanted a house full. However, after the disaster that was Zander, I knew I probably would never have any. At twenty-six and three quarters, I still had a lot of time to have them, yet I wasn’t so sure of my judgment at this point. I never wanted put an innocent child’s life at risk, which equaled no kids for me.
I smiled at him and patted his hair. “So, you’d rather her grow up and start dating horny boys? Because that’s what comes with the aging process.”
His scowl would’ve made some women cringe back in fear, but not me. I may have been beaten, but I never stopped fighting. I wouldn’t back down to anyone ever again, and I’d fight until my last breath.
Not to mention that his anger didn’t seem to be directed at me, but at the thought of his little girl growing up. “It’s okay. I know for a fact that daughters will always need their daddies.”
His scowl morphed into a cool professional facade, which didn’t surprise me much. My father was a taboo subject around them. Not that I could tell you why. From what little I knew of my father, he wasn’t a bad man. Only a free spirit who wouldn’t settle down.
“Whatever.” I said as I turned on my heel and exited the bathroom.
“About time. How long does it take to zip up a pair of pants?” Sam said in exasperation.
“Well, first he had to help me put on a pair of panties and hook my bra. Then he had to help me get my wide hips into the pants. Then he zipped them.” I smiled at him sweetly.
His eyes narrowed, and I could’ve sworn he looked pissed. Then I thought better of it. What did he have to be pissed about? According to him, I was nothing. An inconsequential person in his life that wasn’t worth his time.
Sam’s eyes went from my face to James’ face as he exited the bathroom behind me. His hands went up in a ‘don’t shoot me’ gesture, and he returned to his perch on my recliner.
Walking to the kitchen, I studied the clock for a few moments. It was fifteen passed ten, which meant I should leave shortly if I wanted to get there a little early.
“I have to go. Can either one of you tell me what’s the best way to go?” I asked, turning to face the two men again, edging as inconspicuously towards the door as I could.
James didn’t look like he noticed, but Sam came off the wall as soon as I made my first move in the direction of the door. “What the hell is your problem, and why are you running from us?”
I froze, and then my temper exploded. “What the fuck do you care, boyo? I don’t owe you any explanation what so ever! Now, if you’ll please see yourself out.” I said as I stomped towards the door, opened it, and stomped down the stairs.
My broken arm throbbed, but I pushed it away, and kept with my forward motion.
“Smooth, Sam. Is that how you picked my sister up? Do you use those skills on all the ladies?” James chirped.
I contained my smile, heading back towards town.
I didn’t make it far before the roar of a motorcycle growled to life, and James pulled up next to me on the street. “You know, it’s really not safe for you to be walking out here like this. Some man could snatch you off the road, and we’d never know.”
“They could try.” I muttered, stopped, and turned towards him.
He smiled as he placed his giant clodhoppers onto the ground and waited for me to jump on. Handing me his helmet, I situated it over my head awkwardly, and then climbed on. It’d been a while, but I managed to mount the bike with a fair amount of ease, and scooted close to James, but not close enough that anything good was touching.
“You’re gonna have to move closer to me if you don’t want to fall off.” He chuckled.
Reluctantly, I moved forward until my crotch was snug to his backside, and then wrapped my good hand around his chest, resting my casted hand on his thigh.
“Good girl.” He said right before he patted my thigh with his large hand, and then took off like a rocket.
I squealed.
His laughter didn’t bother me. I was a real girl when it came to bikes. I don’t know a thing about them, only that they go fast, they’re big, and they’re chick magnets. I’d only ridden on them with my brother and Zander, but you could see the long lingering looks that women gave them.
The wind whipped my hair every which way, and I wondered why I even bothered to blow dry it. It would’ve saved me time if I’d just done it this way to begin with. I wouldn’t have had to force myself to do it, which, in turn, wouldn’t have made my arm hurt worse.
The ride was fairly short, I knew from my many explorations through town that we were in the historical district, but it wasn’t near the courthouse as I’d assumed.
He stopped in front of a plain brick building with only a tinted glass door that had “Child Services of Rusk County” stamped on it with plain white letters. I reluctantly let my body slide from the bike, and barely held back the moan. My face was a different story, because James must’ve read something on it if the smirk that tilted up his lips was any indication.
“Thanks for the ride, James. I’ll see you later.” I said as I handed the helmet to him and turned my back on him.
“I’ll be waiting.” He yelled just as I reached the front door.
I turned to look over my shoulder. “Who says I’ll need a ride?”
Obviously the opening I’d inadvertently given him was too good to pass up, because he smiled widely and said, “Oh, baby. You’re more in need of a ride then anybody I know. Although, I’m not sure it has anything to do with a motorcycle.”
I’d barely contained the palm/forehead slap I wanted to do after that line. Barely. However, I managed it as I opened the door to my possible future.
My last thought was that I’d absolutely kill for a ride from him. In a heartbeat.