Boys South of the Mason Dixon
Page 5
“Steel has been dating Dixie for almost a year,” Bray said. He spoke calmly, but the warning couldn’t be missed. He was protecting our younger brother, without any idea whatsoever what he was protecting him from.
Everything around me started spinning. I grabbed the railing beside me, steadying myself, because this wasn’t happening. I’d left to protect a secret, to protect Dixie . . . but this . . . holy fuck . . . what had I done?
This couldn’t be fucking happening. I’d lost it all, walked through hell for three long years, and I still walked through it daily. Every dream she appeared in reminded me that no one else would ever be enough. Lies had ruined my life. I wouldn’t let them ruin hers too. And I sure as hell wouldn’t let them ruin Steel’s.
“Don’t fuck this up for him. He worships you. Would do anything to please you. But he loves her,” Bray warned me through his glare.
He didn’t know what he was saying. None of them did. No one knew but me. I wasn’t about to lose my shit because I was jealous. I’d learned to live with the jealousy that consumed me anytime I thought of someone touching her.
“Have they . . .” I couldn’t even say it. My throat shut. I wanted to yell at the world, at how cruel it could be. The tightness in my chest and the rage pounding in my veins were emotions I knew all too well. Emotions I shouldn’t be feeling. The mere idea of Dixie with someone else ripped me apart. I’d been living that nightmare for three fucking years, knowing I had no right to be jealous. I felt sick to my stomach that keeping my mouth shut had now led to this. But as horrified as I felt, all I could think about was Steel touching Dixie . . . my own fucking brother.
“Fuck!” I roared, stalking back through the yard, needing distance from everyone present. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would leap from my chest. The range of emotions churning through me spread like a lightning bolt through my skull. “Motherfucking hell!” I yelled, throwing the bag of my momma’s medication to the ground and grabbing my head with my hands. I felt dizzy, my eyes bugging from the pulse of the pain.
My knees went weak and I let them give way, squatting, resting my elbows on my thighs and holding my head through the pain. I’d run from Malroy to save us both. But while trying to save Dixie from what would haunt me for the rest of my life, I’d left my baby brother unprotected and free to walk into a horrible sin. Holy hell, how could I do this to him now? How could I let him turn into this same shell of a person I’d become?
“Asher?” Momma’s voice rang out loud and clear from the porch. I let my hands fall as I looked up at her. She was standing tall with her apron on and her hands on her hips, staring at me. The pinched look on her face meant she was upset. The stained red spots all over her apron reminded me of happier times. Days when sneaking a strawberry without momma knowing was the only problem I had.
“You two had to go and tell him before he even got in the door? You little shits. I haven’t seen my boy since Christmas and you upset him off the bat!” Momma scolded Bray and Brent before shaking her head and pointing at me. “Get up from there, for God’s sake. You’re too big to act like a five-year-old throwing a temper tantrum. Come see your momma and then tell me why the hell you went and got a prescription that I didn’t ask for in the first place. I’ll make you a fried pie while you explain.” Her tone meant business and we knew that. “And you two,” she added, waving the towel in her hand between the two of them. “Y’all should be ashamed. Ain’t the way to do things!”
I stood, let the numbness wash over me. It was the only way I’d get through this. My own little brother would now pay for my mistake. The gaping hole in my chest grew bigger and bigger. Forcing myself to stop thinking about it for the moment, I picked up the bag of Momma’s meds from the ground and moved toward the house, walking slowly onto the porch and into my momma’s open arms. As her five-foot-seven frame held me tight, tears stung my eyes. I hadn’t cried since the night I realized that I’d lost it all, or more accurately, the night I realized it had never been mine to have. Having Momma hold me made me want to break down like a little kid. But I held it together like the man they all expected me to be.
I liked girls. Better yet, I loved girls. I loved everything about them. The way they smelled, their soft skin, the curve of their bodies, the sound of their laughter. God put girls on this earth to make it a brighter place. I truly believed that.
The problem with that was that I loved all girls. I wasn’t picky, couldn’t choose just one when there were so many of them to choose from. When they touched my arm, whispered in my ear, promised with their mouths what their bodies would do, I didn’t know how to turn them down.
Now and then, I got some loving from a girl who thought she’d change me for good. Make me just want her and her alone. But as soon as she realized I wasn’t a one-woman man, all her sugar turned sour, the ugly came out, and I quickly moved on to another. I tried to avoid that kind of girl, but sometimes they snuck through my defenses.
Andrea James had a hint of sour lurking right under the surface. It was there. I sensed it immediately. She had curves in all the right places and she smelled like a wet dream, but I’d seen that gleam in her eyes before, and I wasn’t willing to chance it. I made my excuses, blamed my momma, said that she needed me home. Not even Andrea James was brave enough to make my momma angry. After that, I headed out the door. Jack’s place was all we had in town. For a good time, that’s where we went. I looked forward to college when a pool hall bar wasn’t the only thing to entertain me.
“You sure your momma wouldn’t let you stay out a little longer?” Andrea called from the steps in front of Jack’s as I was climbing into my truck.
I wanted to answer back, “I’m sure she would, but you’ve got that crazy in your eyes I ain’t willing to tangle with.” Being a nice guy and all, I replied, “yeah, I’m sure. Promised I’d help her hang some shelves.” Now that was a lie, but sometimes a lie was needed to save yourself from imminent disaster.
Shame Andrea James was the crazy sort. Guess I should have figured that out before I let her rub up on me. Her younger sister was a real mean bitch. That I knew for a fact. Once I was told she had been the one harassing Dixie, I made sure that didn’t happen anymore. Dixie was the sweetest kind of girl there was. The kind you looked at, wanted to get closer to, but knew you shouldn’t. She was not the kind of girl you took to your truck. She’d never be that girl.
I knew I spent too much time watching Dixie. I liked to be near her as much as I could. Dixie smelled sweeter, laughed brighter, talked softer, and her eyes saw deeper than any other girl I knew. It was hard to ignore Dixie Monroe. And if I was younger, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep her at an arm’s length. But I wasn’t younger, I was three years older than her, and had no business looking her way. Instead, I let myself enjoy little innocent tastes of her. Small moments spent in Dixie’s company. That was enough for me. And like always, just before I turned down the dirt road, the one that led to my house, I glanced over toward Dixie’s home. This was one of my little tastes of her. Because sometimes I saw nothing, but sometimes I saw glimpses of her life, glimpses of her, and I couldn’t look away.
Tonight, I was lucky. The full moon and the front porch light illuminated her house and yard. And Dixie sat there on the bottom step of her porch, her feet bare and her knees tucked beneath her chin, her head turning in my direction as I drove past her. Although it was too far to see the reaction on her face, I knew she recognized my truck. And she didn’t look away.
Everything around me started spinning. I grabbed the railing beside me, steadying myself, because this wasn’t happening. I’d left to protect a secret, to protect Dixie . . . but this . . . holy fuck . . . what had I done?
This couldn’t be fucking happening. I’d lost it all, walked through hell for three long years, and I still walked through it daily. Every dream she appeared in reminded me that no one else would ever be enough. Lies had ruined my life. I wouldn’t let them ruin hers too. And I sure as hell wouldn’t let them ruin Steel’s.
“Don’t fuck this up for him. He worships you. Would do anything to please you. But he loves her,” Bray warned me through his glare.
He didn’t know what he was saying. None of them did. No one knew but me. I wasn’t about to lose my shit because I was jealous. I’d learned to live with the jealousy that consumed me anytime I thought of someone touching her.
“Have they . . .” I couldn’t even say it. My throat shut. I wanted to yell at the world, at how cruel it could be. The tightness in my chest and the rage pounding in my veins were emotions I knew all too well. Emotions I shouldn’t be feeling. The mere idea of Dixie with someone else ripped me apart. I’d been living that nightmare for three fucking years, knowing I had no right to be jealous. I felt sick to my stomach that keeping my mouth shut had now led to this. But as horrified as I felt, all I could think about was Steel touching Dixie . . . my own fucking brother.
“Fuck!” I roared, stalking back through the yard, needing distance from everyone present. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would leap from my chest. The range of emotions churning through me spread like a lightning bolt through my skull. “Motherfucking hell!” I yelled, throwing the bag of my momma’s medication to the ground and grabbing my head with my hands. I felt dizzy, my eyes bugging from the pulse of the pain.
My knees went weak and I let them give way, squatting, resting my elbows on my thighs and holding my head through the pain. I’d run from Malroy to save us both. But while trying to save Dixie from what would haunt me for the rest of my life, I’d left my baby brother unprotected and free to walk into a horrible sin. Holy hell, how could I do this to him now? How could I let him turn into this same shell of a person I’d become?
“Asher?” Momma’s voice rang out loud and clear from the porch. I let my hands fall as I looked up at her. She was standing tall with her apron on and her hands on her hips, staring at me. The pinched look on her face meant she was upset. The stained red spots all over her apron reminded me of happier times. Days when sneaking a strawberry without momma knowing was the only problem I had.
“You two had to go and tell him before he even got in the door? You little shits. I haven’t seen my boy since Christmas and you upset him off the bat!” Momma scolded Bray and Brent before shaking her head and pointing at me. “Get up from there, for God’s sake. You’re too big to act like a five-year-old throwing a temper tantrum. Come see your momma and then tell me why the hell you went and got a prescription that I didn’t ask for in the first place. I’ll make you a fried pie while you explain.” Her tone meant business and we knew that. “And you two,” she added, waving the towel in her hand between the two of them. “Y’all should be ashamed. Ain’t the way to do things!”
I stood, let the numbness wash over me. It was the only way I’d get through this. My own little brother would now pay for my mistake. The gaping hole in my chest grew bigger and bigger. Forcing myself to stop thinking about it for the moment, I picked up the bag of Momma’s meds from the ground and moved toward the house, walking slowly onto the porch and into my momma’s open arms. As her five-foot-seven frame held me tight, tears stung my eyes. I hadn’t cried since the night I realized that I’d lost it all, or more accurately, the night I realized it had never been mine to have. Having Momma hold me made me want to break down like a little kid. But I held it together like the man they all expected me to be.
I liked girls. Better yet, I loved girls. I loved everything about them. The way they smelled, their soft skin, the curve of their bodies, the sound of their laughter. God put girls on this earth to make it a brighter place. I truly believed that.
The problem with that was that I loved all girls. I wasn’t picky, couldn’t choose just one when there were so many of them to choose from. When they touched my arm, whispered in my ear, promised with their mouths what their bodies would do, I didn’t know how to turn them down.
Now and then, I got some loving from a girl who thought she’d change me for good. Make me just want her and her alone. But as soon as she realized I wasn’t a one-woman man, all her sugar turned sour, the ugly came out, and I quickly moved on to another. I tried to avoid that kind of girl, but sometimes they snuck through my defenses.
Andrea James had a hint of sour lurking right under the surface. It was there. I sensed it immediately. She had curves in all the right places and she smelled like a wet dream, but I’d seen that gleam in her eyes before, and I wasn’t willing to chance it. I made my excuses, blamed my momma, said that she needed me home. Not even Andrea James was brave enough to make my momma angry. After that, I headed out the door. Jack’s place was all we had in town. For a good time, that’s where we went. I looked forward to college when a pool hall bar wasn’t the only thing to entertain me.
“You sure your momma wouldn’t let you stay out a little longer?” Andrea called from the steps in front of Jack’s as I was climbing into my truck.
I wanted to answer back, “I’m sure she would, but you’ve got that crazy in your eyes I ain’t willing to tangle with.” Being a nice guy and all, I replied, “yeah, I’m sure. Promised I’d help her hang some shelves.” Now that was a lie, but sometimes a lie was needed to save yourself from imminent disaster.
Shame Andrea James was the crazy sort. Guess I should have figured that out before I let her rub up on me. Her younger sister was a real mean bitch. That I knew for a fact. Once I was told she had been the one harassing Dixie, I made sure that didn’t happen anymore. Dixie was the sweetest kind of girl there was. The kind you looked at, wanted to get closer to, but knew you shouldn’t. She was not the kind of girl you took to your truck. She’d never be that girl.
I knew I spent too much time watching Dixie. I liked to be near her as much as I could. Dixie smelled sweeter, laughed brighter, talked softer, and her eyes saw deeper than any other girl I knew. It was hard to ignore Dixie Monroe. And if I was younger, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep her at an arm’s length. But I wasn’t younger, I was three years older than her, and had no business looking her way. Instead, I let myself enjoy little innocent tastes of her. Small moments spent in Dixie’s company. That was enough for me. And like always, just before I turned down the dirt road, the one that led to my house, I glanced over toward Dixie’s home. This was one of my little tastes of her. Because sometimes I saw nothing, but sometimes I saw glimpses of her life, glimpses of her, and I couldn’t look away.
Tonight, I was lucky. The full moon and the front porch light illuminated her house and yard. And Dixie sat there on the bottom step of her porch, her feet bare and her knees tucked beneath her chin, her head turning in my direction as I drove past her. Although it was too far to see the reaction on her face, I knew she recognized my truck. And she didn’t look away.
