Note from Denise:

When I started writing Trailer Trash, I had decided to include a few chapters in Jed’s point of view. But after my editor, Angela, read the first half of the book, she told me that she thought this was Neely Kate’s story to tell. Not Jed’s. After a little convincing, I decided she was right.

At that point, I had two Jed chapters, so I pulled them both and rewrote the chapters from Neely Kate’s point of view. The first chapter was chapter eight (the drive from Little Rock to Texarkana), and Angela and I ultimately decided it didn’t necessarily contribute much more in Jed’s POV. Keeping it as bonus material felt redundant. The chapter did feature the phone call between Skeeter and Jed at the gas station in Texarkana, but Angela suggested it might be more effective if the reader didn’t know what was said during the call. We liked doling that information out slowly, letting the reader know as Neely Kate found out. Still, after I read that phone call again, I decided to break it out from the chapter and only keep Jed and Skeeter’s conversation.

But we both agreed to keep Jed’s chapter eleven.

Jed’s version of chapter eleven is a mirror image of the chapter eleven in the book—with mostly matching dialogue. (Some may have been tweaked in the editing process.) It takes place immediately after the scene in Slick Willy’s parking lot when Neely Kate walks out of the strip club. She’s terrified over what Jed could be thinking about her, and she falls to pieces. Chapter eleven shows how Jed handles Neely Kate’s reaction. It’s a glimpse into his soul—the pain of losing his sister. His complicated relationship to Skeeter. The utter confusion he feels in regard to Neely Kate. It’s a powerful chapter, and I was dig-in-my-heels reluctant to cut it until we decided to keep it as bonus material.

I stopped at a truck stop in Texarkana, and while I pumped gas, Neely Kate went inside to use the bathroom. I was slightly worried she’d take off—she hadn’t tried to bring her bag, and she seemed resigned to accepting my help, but she’d become more despondent after our talk about her miscarriage, and I couldn’t shake the feeling she was trying to push me away. I wanted to figure out a way to make her feel better, but first I needed to face Skeeter’s wrath.

He answered on the first ring, angry as a bear poked with a stick. “You better have a damn good explanation for ignoring my calls. Where are you?”

“Texarkana.”

“What the hell are you doin’ in Texarkana?”

Wasn’t that the million-dollar question . . . Should I confess what I was up to? I realized I was running the risk of Skeeter sending someone to fetch me, but I was no longer that eight-year-old kid looking up to the fourteen-year-old boy who’d taken him under his protection. I didn’t need his permission. “I’m takin’ Neely Kate to Oklahoma.”

He was quiet for several seconds, long enough that I checked the screen to make sure we were still connected. “I told you to be back for our six o’clock meeting.”

“Obviously I’m not going to make it.”

“You’re willfully disobeying a direct order?”

“For the first time in my goddamned life I’m making a decision independent of you and what you want,” I snarled through gritted teeth.

“Then you’re fired!”

“You would fire me after everything I’ve done for you?” I asked in a tone so cold it would have frozen water within seconds.

“You have a choice,” he said in an equally cold tone. “Me or her.”

“No, you’re the one forcing the choice on me. I can choose both. Just like you can choose both.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he growled.

“It means you screwed Rose over, and you know it. The sooner you suck it up and apologize to her, the better off we’ll all be.”

“It will be a cold day in hell before I apologize to her or anyone else.”

Since I was already hanging out on a limb, I figured I might as well shimmy out the rest of the way. “You need her.”

“Let’s make one thing perfectly clear,” he said, his voice sharp as the edge of a blade. “I don’t need anyone. Not even you.”

His words cut deep, but I wasn’t about to let him know that. “You are such a stubborn ass; you refuse to see what’s right in front of your face. I don’t expect you to announce it to the world, but why can’t you admit to yourself that she makes you a better leader, not to mention a better person? She makes you stop and think through the consequences.”

“She’s made me weak,” he spat out. “I was too damn blind to see it.”

“The men who are vying for your crown may see you that way, but dammit, Skeeter, once they’ve turn to your side they’re ten times more loyal than they used to be. They know you’re just and fair. It’s painful now, but long term, the county will be much stronger.”

“There is no room for just and fair in our world.”

“You’re lying to yourself, and that makes you dangerous.”

“Well, you sure as shit don’t need to worry about it anymore. Don’t bother coming back from Oklahoma,” he snapped, then hung up.

I leaned my forearm on the roof of the car, letting our conversation sink in. I wasn’t necessarily surprised he’d fired me again, but it still stung.

“You okay?” Neely Kate asked. She stood on the other side of the car, her hair blowing into her face. She reached up a hand and brushed it away.

She’d come back.

Maybe Skeeter was too stupid to realize what he had, but I could learn from his mistakes. At this point, I had nothing to lose.

“I am now.”

If ever there was a man who ran from tears, it was me.

Maybe it was because I’d heard my sister Daisy cry herself to sleep too many nights. The helplessness had been overwhelming. We had often gone to bed bruised and hungry. I couldn’t save her from the bruises except for the few times I managed to draw my father’s wrath and his fists from her tiny body to my own. The hunger was easier to manage. As often as I could without raising suspicion, I would steal food from my father and sneak it to her at night. Skeeter knew she had a sweet tooth, so he’d sometimes steal cookies and small cakes from the Piggly Wiggly. I’d dole them out sparingly, trying to make them last, but some nights we gorged ourselves. Still, a belly full of sugar couldn’t ease the ache in our guts. She’d climb into bed beside me in our shared room, and we’d huddle under my covers as my mattress shook with her silent sobs.

The person I’d loved most in the world had been miserable, and there was absolutely nothing I could’ve done to help her. I’d felt hamstrung and helpless.

Exactly the way I felt now.

One of the things I loved about Neely Kate was that she was like dynamite packed into a tiny body. She was nearly a foot shorter than me and probably half my weight, but she had presence. Her smile was infectious and her laugh . . . her laugh was like the hot chocolate Daisy and I got when we used to go Christmas caroling with the church—rich and delicious, warming every part of me as it went down. She always looked for the good in things, which I was even more in awe of after this tiny glimpse into her previous life. She was strong and loyal and had a loving heart. When she walked into a room, people noticed.

But there was no sign of that woman now. She was a broken shell, and I knew she’d only just begun this trip down memory lane. How would she handle the rest?

She’d collapsed into me, sobbing so hard I was pretty sure she was hyperventilating, yet all I knew to do was hold her. She needed to know that she wasn’t in this alone, because something deep down insisted I wasn’t leaving her side no matter how hard she tried to push me away.

“Let’s go find a room, Neely Kate. Okay?”

She continued to cry, although the gut-wrenching sobs had quieted to labored sniffles. I guided her to the passenger door and helped her inside, shutting the door and hoping she didn’t try to take off before I got behind the wheel. I had no doubt I could catch her, but I didn’t want her to run. I wanted her to know we were doing this together.

I got back in the car and headed back to Ardmore. I passed a few seedy motels I would have stayed in if I’d been alone, but I wanted something better for her. Something that wasn’t a reminder of the hell she’d lived through over half her life. I settled on a Motel 6—wishing I could find something nicer, knowing we’d at least have clean sheets.

After our trip to the strip club, I wasn’t sure what Neely Kate had gotten into five years ago. I’d feel more prepared if I knew the rest, but why would she tell me? I suspected the only person who had ever truly been loyal to her was Rose. It should have been her husband, but I wondered how much she’d told him about her past. Had he understood how devastating the miscarriage had been for her? Probably not, but it still didn’t justify him running off.

So help me God, when we were done with this trip, I was going to find that son of a bitch and rain down justice on his head. And since I apparently no longer worked for Skeeter, I had all the time in the world to complete my task.

Skeeter had a short temper, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to fly off the handle. Hours later he would do damage control, or more often than not, I would be the one who did the damage control. But his sharp edges had softened considerably since he’d met Rose. She grounded him. The fact that I’d pointed that out to him earlier in our phone call wasn’t exactly in my favor, especially since I was usually the one who did the reaching out on his behalf. I knew it might be days before he called or texted me. I’d given that man the last fourteen years of my life, working for him before I was even out of high school. He owed me more than this shitty send-off. More than the belated, inevitable demand that I return, which would be made, as always, without an apology or explanation.

But maybe it was time to do something on my own.

Truth be told, it wasn’t the first time I’d had that thought. While I’d always known Skeeter had secrets—hell, I had plenty of my own—it had shocked me to find out the truth about his connection with J.R. Simmons. He’d worked for Simmons in the years he’d spent away from our hometown. Worse, he’d remained Simmons’ henchman for years after returning to Henryetta, and he’d sought my help with his new enterprise without telling me.

I’d thought time would help me get over it, but months had passed and I was even angrier than before. I was Skeeter’s best friend, and I’d devoted my entire life to his business, but more often than not, I felt like an employee rather than a partner. It was making me question whether I wanted something more.

Hell if I knew what that was.

I parked in front of the hotel and locked the still-despondent Neely Kate in the car, keeping an eye on her the entire time I checked in and filled out the paperwork.

I handed over my credit card—my personal one, not the one Skeeter had me use when I was traveling on business. Maybe it was a bad call. I felt vulnerable staying here as me and not one of the aliases I used to keep a low profile, but I didn’t want to owe Skeeter any favors right now.

“Can I get a room toward the back?” I asked. “I like to be farther away from the road.” The clerk gave me a strange look, so I added, “Noise. I’m a light sleeper.” It would be harder for someone to sneak up on us in the back. I’d made a point of choosing a place with outside entry for the same reason.

“Must be your lucky day. Not only did you get the last room, but it’s in the back.” He handed me two room keys before returning to the game on his phone.

Neely Kate was quiet when I got into the car and drove us to the back of the building. I grabbed her bag and walked around to her door. She was still in the same position, so I opened the door and squatted next to her. “We’re going inside now.”

She lifted her mascara-smudged face to look at me but didn’t say a word.

I reached for her arm as I stood, making sure she didn’t hit her head. She got out next to the car, her body limp as she took a step toward the building. Our room was on the second floor, so I guided her to the stairs. She was moving slowly, so I swung her bag around to my back and swept her into my arms. When she didn’t protest, part of me panicked. The woman I knew would beat me over the head for trying such a thing.

I jostled her in my arms so I could unlock the door and then flipped on the light. The room was cleaner and newer than I’d expected. I wasn’t surprised to see a single king-sized bed; I already had a game plan. I could sleep in the chair in the corner. God knew I’d spent hours sleeping in worse situations.

I set her down on the bed, thankful she remained upright instead of curling up into the fetal position she’d assumed in the car.

I tossed her bag onto the dresser on my way into the bathroom. She’d feel better if she cleaned up, but she was in no position to take care of that herself. Wet washcloth in hand, I headed back out—she was in the same position I’d left her in—and sat on the edge of the bed next to her. I grabbed her chin and gently turned her face toward me.

Her eyes were downcast as I lifted the cloth to her face and began to wipe the mascara streaks.

She lifted her hand to my wrist and stopped me, still looking down. “Jed. Stop. You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” I said as I tugged her hand free. “When was the last time someone besides Rose took care of you?”

“Ronnie,” she said, her voice breaking. “After my miscarriage. He tried, but he didn’t understand.”

“Didn’t understand what?” I asked as I continued wiping her face. I had a pretty good idea, but I wanted her to confirm it.

“He knew I was upset over losing the babies, but he didn’t get why I felt so guilty.”

“Wasn’t he upset too?”

“In a way, I guess. I think he was partially relieved, especially when he found out they were twins. Part of me wonders if he really wanted them. He just went along with anything I wanted.” She lifted her blue eyes up to mine. “Now I wonder if he wanted any of it for himself.”

“Wanted what?”

“The house. The baby. Our marriage. He wanted those things, but I think I pushed him into them a whole lot sooner than he had planned.” She shrugged. “Maybe I was scared he’d see the real me and run.” She took the rag from my hand and finished wiping her face.

“He must have wanted all of that if he gave in.”

She shook her head. “I can be . . . insistent.”

The more I heard about Ronnie Colson, the more I suspected he was a spineless jellyfish. There was no doubt that Neely Kate was a headstrong woman. She needed a man who could meet her toe-to-toe. “He was a grown-ass man, capable of saying no,” I said more gruffly than intended, but I couldn’t stand the thought of her taking on his mantle of guilt too.

“Maybe.” She lowered the washcloth to her lap, resting it on her open palm. “I’m sorry for earlier . . . I’m humiliated beyond belief. I shouldn’t have . . .” She paused. “I couldn’t stand to think you thought less of me—”

“Don’t you ever be ashamed of doing what you needed to do to survive.”

“Still . . .” Her cheeks flushed. “I’ve made it weird between us. I plan to visit my old trailer park tomorrow. I’m sure I still have friends there. You don’t need to come.”

“I’m not leaving you, Neely Kate,” I said in a firm voice, hoping to end the debate.

“I know you made Rose a promise—”

“You think I’m staying for Rose?” I asked in disbelief. “Let’s get one thing perfectly clear: I’m here for me.”

Her blue eyes searched my face. “Why?”

“Because you need a friend. I’m your friend.” She looked down again, and I couldn’t tell whether she believed me.

“But you were so angry with me . . .” she finally said. I could tell each word cost her.

I shook my head, realizing she’d misinterpreted my fury. “Not with you, Neely Kate. I was angry at the situation.” I pushed back a bit, turning to look at the blank TV screen. There was no way I’d be able to put my thoughts into words if I kept my eyes on her. “Look,” I said, feeling frustrated. “I could see you were hurt . . . that someone or several someones had hurt you bad. You’ve told me next to nothing, so I don’t know who the people who hurt you are or what they did . . . and then I saw you drowning your sorrows in cheap whiskey . . . talking to that lowlife you used to work for . . . and it makes me so angry that I can’t fix this for you.” I paused, trying to control my rising temper. “That’s what I do, Neely Kate—I fix Skeeter’s problems—and I’m damn good at it, but I’d give anything to fix this for you, and I don’t even know what this is.”

She lifted her arms to my neck and hugged me. I sat there for several seconds, holding her in my arms, and I realized I could get used to this.

I wasn’t so sure that was a good thing.

“I have to do this on my own,” she said quietly.

My heart jolted. “Are you going to try to ditch me again?”

She was quiet for several seconds. “No. I like having you here.” Then she grinned up at me. That smile looked like the sun rising in the morning, and I’d do anything to keep it on her face. “And it’s not so bad having badass backup.”

“You think I’m a badass?”

She snorted and her smile spread even wider as she rolled her eyes. “Please.”

“So you’ll keep me around?”

She plucked at my shirt, still grinning. “You make a pretty good pillow to cry into.”

“At least I have a purpose,” I teased.

Her smile fell as she lifted her gaze to mine, suddenly serious. She lifted her hand to my face, her palm skimming my cheek as she searched my eyes. “You’re a good man, Jed Carlisle.”

It was my turn to snort. I pulled down her hand. “No. I am not a good man. But we’ll exorcise your demons, Neely Kate, and then we’ll bury the bones and light it all on fire. I’ll make sure you’re free of whatever happened here. No more running.”

Her face paled. She was bothered by something I’d said, but I knew better than to press her. “Are you hungry? Thirsty? You probably have a headache after crying so hard.”

She shook her head.

“Do you want anything?”

She stared at me for a moment and then opened her mouth to speak, hesitating for another moment before she asked, “Can I ask you a favor?”

I gave her a reassuring smile. “Of course.”

“I’m exhausted, but I’ve had a lot of nightmares lately . . . Will you hold me?”

I hesitated, not because I didn’t want to comply, but because I wanted her so much I wasn’t sure I could sleep with her and not end up taking advantage of her . . . and that was the last thing she needed. “I was going to sleep in the chair.”

Her eyes flew open. “In the chair? You paid for the doggone room. If you don’t want to sleep with me, then I’ll sleep in the chair.”

My face hardened. “Like hell you will.”

“How about a compromise?” she said. “You can sit at the head of the bed and hold me. Just for a few minutes. Please. If you’d like, you can move after I fall asleep.”

I could tell it was killing her to beg for what she needed. Why was I being such an ass?

“Of course.” I kicked off my shoes and scooted up on the bed, rearranging the pillows to support my back and head and stretching my legs straight in front of me. I reached out my arm toward her.

She shed her jacket and kicked off her sandals, then crawled up the bed and snuggled into my side. Her head rested on my chest, and she curled her leg over my upper thighs. Her arm draped across my chest, her hand cupping the back of my neck. Then she sank into me, as though melding her body into mine.

I sat there breathless and in awe. I’d slept with more women than I could count, but this was somehow the most intimate experience I’d ever had. We were both fully clothed, although all I had to do was move my hand, which was now resting on her hip, down several inches and tug up the hem of her dress to show me what she was wearing underneath. And while the baser part of me was aching to touch her—her impromptu attempt to seduce me in the parking lot hadn’t been completely ineffective—there was a deeper part of me that only wanted this . . . needed this.

I reached over and turned off the light, but she clung to me as if afraid I’d let her go. When I sat back upright, I lifted my hand to smooth her hair. “I’m not leaving.”

Soon her breathing became shallower and her hand loosened its hold around my neck. I moved her arm down to my waist. I knew she was asleep, and I could have moved her to the other side of the bed, but if she woke up frightened, I wanted her to know I was there. At least I could do that for her. Still, as I drifted off, I knew I wasn’t just holding her because she needed me—I needed her too.

That scared me more than anything.

* * *