Chapter 4
Six weeks later…
A Greyhound bus.
A fucking Greyhound bus had been the mode of transportation my parents had provided me from Decatur to Bristol. So, a typical four and a half hour drive turned into a seven hour trip with all the damn stops it made in rinky-dink towns to drop off passengers, and pick up more. The majority of whom seemed to be in need of a shower and some deodorant.
Fuck my life.
I hoisted up my backpack and then grabbed the suitcase the driver had placed on the asphalt next to the bus.
As I walked towards the bus terminal to wait for whomever from the ranch had been assigned to pick my ass up, I glanced at the two lane highway that led up to this tiny piece of asphalt and concrete and saw a chick with a sign.
Yep. A sign.
Like the ones you might see at the airport when a chauffeur was given the task to hang out there to shuttle an important client to wherever for his employer.
Except this was a freakin’ Greyhound Bus Terminal in what appeared to be a smaller town than Decatur. The sign read: Slater.
But the chick holding it? Well, she wasn’t your typical chauffeur type by a long shot. She was petite, but not fragile. She had shoulder length blondish streaked brown hair that was poker straight. Oh, and she had perky tits.
The reason I knew her tits were perky was because she was wearing a tank top, along with olive drab cargo shorts that kinda made her ass look epic with her toned and tanned legs displayed nicely.
I sauntered over to where she stood on the sidewalk.
“Looking for me?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“If you’re Bryce Slater I am,” she replied. Her eyes were a weird shade of brown…a golden amber really. Like tiger eyes.
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m him.”
“And I’m Avery,” she replied, giving me a smile and holding out her hand to me. I didn’t take it. Handshaking was for losers I’d decided a long time ago. So I simply nodded.
Her eyes flickered over me as if she was taking full inventory in a way that made me strangely uncomfortable. “Okkkay, class act I see,” she commented as she turned and walked towards the parking lot.
I didn’t budge. She was a mouthy chick. I didn’t appreciate the type.
She’d walked about ten yards before she stopped and turned around, seeing that I hadn’t made a move to follow her. I saw the look of annoyance on her face as she traipsed back over to where I was standing and copped a pose of her own, “Umm…what are you waiting for, Slater? An engraved invitation? If you want a ride to the ranch your transportation is leaving now. Otherwise you can hoof it. It’s about twelve miles. It’s your decision.”
She was tapping her foot impatiently, waiting for my response.
Oh, what the hell. The little shit probably didn’t win too many battles of the will. Maybe I’d make her day and let her have this one.
“Lead the way, Princess,” I said, gracing her with my panty-melting smile.
She rolled her eyes and turned back around as I dutifully followed her to where a small, red pickup truck was parked. “Throw your stuff in the back,” she directed, climbing into the driver’s side.
I did as she said and climbed into the passenger side.
“Fasten up. Ranch rules.”
I released a sigh and fastened my seat belt, and then grabbed a smoke from the pack of cigs I had in the pocket of my tee shirt. Before I could even reach for my lighter, her voice rang out loud and clear.
“Uhh…no. Smoking is prohibited in the vehicle and in all areas of the ranch. We embrace a smoke free and healthy environment for our workers, visitors, and livestock. So, it’s time to kick the habit, Ace. You can thank me after your next chest x-ray,” she finished, giving me a sarcastic smile.
I shoved my cigarette back into the pack, unwilling and too tired to spar with the chick over the fucking rules and regulations she was already preaching to me.
Who was she anyway? One of the team leaders or staff supervisors who’d obviously allowed the supervisory role to go to her head.
I wasn’t worried about it though.
I’d do my job and then hopefully, find some cool peeps to party with in town. It was a job. Big deal. It wasn’t my life.
“So,” she said, “When we get to the ranch, I’ll show you your quarters. We went ahead and stocked your fridge and cupboards with the staples. You’ll want to make a trip to the market though to fully stock up since the ranch doesn’t provide staff meals.”
“Does this place sell beer?” I asked.
“Sure does,” she chirped happily. “For those over twenty-one, they do. It appears you don’t qualify though. How bad does that suck, huh? I did take the opportunity to skim your file, Slater. And let me say this, we have a zero tolerance policy with respect to breaking the rules here. Underage drinking, getting high, and behaving inappropriately while you’re here won’t be tolerated. With your…uh…recent circumstances, I don’t think you’ll want to test our patience. Just sayin’.”
I turned to gaze at her. “And just what do you know about my recent circumstances?” I snapped. I mean what the hell? Was nothing private anymore?
“Hey, it’s my job to know deets like that about the summer help. There are liability issues, not to mention the stellar reputation that has existed for many years at Sinclair Stables and Racetrack.”
Damn if this bitch hadn’t willingly drunk the corporate Kool-Aid. I smirked and then realized what she’d just said. “Whoa, hold up there, Princess. What’s this shit about summer help? My understanding was this gig could last well indefinitely.”
She glanced over at me as she signaled to make a left turn onto yet another country road. “It could,” she remarked, “But Slater, I don’t see you lasting beyond the summer.”
The chick was a genuine smartass. How could she possibly make that assessment after spending all of five minutes around me? I wasn’t going to allow her to push my buttons. What was it Taz had told my parents? People only do that to get a reaction? Yeah, well I wasn’t going to give the little shrimp the satisfaction. I turned my head and gazed out the window as if all of this, including her, was of no particular interest to me.
The rest of the ride was spent in silence before we apparently arrived at our destination. What the hell?
My mother’s words played in my head. “Everything you need is there or within walking distance?” This place was out in the boonies. I hadn’t seen one strip mall, liquor store, or even a Wal-Mart the whole way here.
As she pulled her pickup truck from the two lane road onto a long winding drive that was flanked by fenced horse pastures on either side, I swiveled my head to both sides before finally blurting out, “There isn’t a damn thing around here, is there?”
“It’s called the country. Rural America, Slater. Keeps the gangbanger population down. What is it in particular you’re looking to find?”
“Well, how about a store that sells cigarettes? Or groceries even?”
“No smoking, so no worries about the cigs. And there is a small general store for most everything else you’ll need just through the woods adjacent to the track. You can’t see it from here, but I’ll show you once we get you up to your cottage.”
“Do I get my own, or is it like some army barracks type thing? I don’t want to share with a bunch of losers who spend all night choking their chickens in their bunks.”
“Hmm…sounds like you enjoyed your night in the county jail. But sorry, no. We provide a cottage for each worker. You’ll have to supply your own entertainment, Slater.”
She was out of her truck before I could fire off a nasty response. Just how much did she know about my personal business?
I got out of the truck and grabbed my gear from the back. Avery was already several yards ahead of me, and for a short chick, she could certainly make tracks. I followed her past a horse barn and saw that there was a set of concrete steps that were built into a hill just past it. Once I reached the top of the steps, I followed her down the stone path and saw a wooded area about a hundred yards in the distance. Off to the left of the walk, there were a cluster of small cottages spaced apart from one another, but they were all identical. Some were further back from the path than others, so it afforded each one some privacy.
Each one had a front porch with a couple of rocking chairs placed on them, and she stopped at the third one down, turned around to see if I’d been following her, and then grabbed a key from the pocket of her shorts.
“This one’s yours, Slater,” she said, climbing the two wooden steps that led up to the small porch. My eyes lingered on her ass for a couple seconds too long as she was unlocking the front door. When she whirled back around, she busted me flat.
“Hey, Romeo,” she said, “Here’s your key. Don’t lose it. You’re responsible for keeping it clean and neat both inside and out. No maid service here, sorry. Any questions?”
I shrugged, moving past her to step inside. “Smells musty,” I remarked, looking around.
“Yeah, well it’s been closed up for a while. That’s why it has windows that open. So, I’ll see you at seven a.m. down at the horse barn we passed on the way up here. I’ll give you a tour of the place, along with the plantation and horse track that’s on the other side of the woods. Rest up, Slater. You’ve got your work cut out for you,” she finished, giving me a smug little smile.
“Yeah. Later,” I muttered, letting the screen door slam shut behind me.
This place wasn’t half bad I thought to myself as I heard her footsteps fade away. The main room was L-shaped, combining a small living area with a kitchenette and breakfast bar. The breakfast bar was on the other side of the countertop and had three stools. There was a small bedroom off of the kitchen, with a double bed, dresser, and nightstand next to the bed. Thankfully, the window in the bedroom held an air conditioner.
The bathroom was off the bedroom. There was one of those old claw foot tubs with a shower hose attached to the faucet. Everything looked old, but it was clean and in good shape.
I dumped my backpack and suitcase on the bed and wandered back out to the kitchenette. Sure enough, there was a compact refrigerator under the counter, and when I opened it I saw it had indeed been furnished with some basic grub. Lunchmeat, yogurt, cheese, apples, milk, and juice. There was a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter on the counter. I looked around and didn’t see a coffee maker which sucked, because I needed my morning java to get my ass going.
I opened the cupboard and found some staples, one of which was a jar of instant coffee. Fuck, it would have to do until I got paid and could buy a decent coffee maker of my own.
There was a microwave, and a small stove top that had a copper tea kettle placed on one of the burners. Nothing fancy, but everything I needed to get by it appeared. It was actually kind of dope having my own crib like this without my parents breathing down my neck 24/7.
I pulled my cell out of the pocket of my jeans and texted my mom that I’d arrived. I added a smart ass comment at the end saying if she didn’t believe me, she should feel free to call the little Nazi chick that picked me up at the bus station. I pushed send and then shut my phone off.
I wasn’t in the mood for return text messages or phone calls reassuring me that I was loved, and that they only wanted what was best for me. Heard it all a million times. It got old.
I took a bath/shower combination. Since there was no shower curtain, I actually couldn’t take a real shower, and I hated baths. It seemed to me that baths were simply soaking in your own funk. Not that I allowed myself to get funky, but with spending all those hours on the bus, I definitely felt the need to scrub.
So, I washed myself, and then stood up and let the shower attachment rinse everything off. I toweled myself dry, and put on a pair of boxers and a tee since I wasn’t leaving the cottage until morning.
I went ahead and made a sandwich and checked out the entertainment facilities in my living room area.
It was a television with a DVD player built in.
Seriously? This was it?
There was a selection of some lame DVD’s, so I went ahead and switched it over to the television guide to see what I could find that was halfway interesting.
I learned quickly there wasn’t much of anything I liked since it appeared that these cottages weren’t equipped with anything more than the basic satellite packages, so I found a music station and then went into where I’d put my backpack and dug out the small bag of weed I’d managed to grab before leaving Decatur.
I rolled a couple of joints, and then went outside and around to the back of my cottage to fire one up just in case the little Nazi had hidden cameras in these cottages. I seriously wouldn't have put it past her.
The night was warm and humid. Fireflies lit up the darkness with the help of the full moon. Crickets were in full chirp mode, and after I’d taken a few long tokes, I felt my body and mind relax and slip into that good place where shit just didn’t get to me. Doubts, anger, stress, and rebellion ceased to exist in my head when I copped a mellow buzz.
Like now.
Everything was cool.
Everything was good.
I finished my joint and went inside my cottage and crashed on the bed. It was the first time I’d gotten high since my parents had put me in Tough Love Jail six weeks ago.
They’d watched me like a hawk; my mother in her protective, nurturing mode. But my father, the ever suspicious and untrusting Papa Hawk could barely shield the piercing fangs he was able to bear in a second’s notice if I posed a threat to his authority or alpha position within the nest, fully prepared to take me out if need be.
Christ, I’m stoned.