The One You Feed Page 6

  The girls invited Jack to sit down. The one who had been staring at Ronny stood, straightened her tiny denim skirt and walked to his table.

  Ronny’s hand trembled when he set his fork down.

  She held her hand out. “I’m Vicki.”

  She was cute.

  “Are you deaf?”

  “No.”

  She sat down in Jack’s seat. “You’re not very friendly.”

  “Not much to say. I don’t know you.”

  “I told you, I’m Vicki. You’re…?”

  “Ronny.”

  “There. Now we know each other enough.”

  “Enough for what?”

  “For whatever.”

  Ronny didn’t know what to make of her. Girls didn’t usually talk to him. “What do you want?”

  “Tall, dark, and rude.” She sighed, placed one hand on her chest and fluttered her lashes.

  Ronny couldn’t help smiling.

  “You’re lucky that’s just my type.”

  “I don’t have time to date.” He wished she’d just leave.

  “I wasn’t asking to date, silly. You got any blow?” She smacked her gum and ran a red polished nail over the scarred tabletop.

  “Blow?”

  “You know, dust, powder, cocaine?”

  “No, I don’t do that shit.” He lied. Cops always used hot chicks to bust dealers, not that he was a dealer. But he wasn’t getting nabbed for a tiny bit of dope. He’d lose his job.

  “Got anything else? Pot?”

  “Pot’s a far cry from blow.”

  “I just want to party. Don’t you?”

  Jack usually handled stuff like this. Ronny just came along for the ride.

  Vicki leaned forward, her blouse sagging to display her tits. She wore no bra. “Listen, I’m not a narc, and I’m not a tease. When I say I want to party, I just want to party.” She displayed a straight line of small white teeth.

  “How old are you?”

  Vicki reached beside her, and set a sparkly gold purse on the table. She opened it, rummaged through its contents, and pulled out a matching wallet. After a slight hesitation, Vicki opened it, pushed it toward him, and grinned. “My license, Officer.”

  Ronny lifted the wallet. Victoria Karson, age twenty-one, according to the little card inside. Handing it back to her, Ronny stood. “All right, Vicki.” He held his hand out. “Let’s party.”

  —

  Colors blurred. Now and then, a titter sounded from the far corner of the room. He couldn’t turn his head. Ronny was messed up, he knew it, and was ecstatic about it.

  Vicki climbed on top of him, her face a pink and purple blob.

  “I love acid fucks,” she said.

  Her voice sounded like they were in a tin can.

  Ronny smiled. It felt like he smiled, anyway. Time wasn’t real. Nothing was real. His life, his problems, all drifted away in the rainbow haze he coasted along. A loud knock, rough hands shaking him, smacking his face. Now this wasn’t cool.

  “Jesus Christ!”

  Was that Jack? Had to be Jack. Rhinos didn’t swear. Ronny grinned and slipped away.

  —

  Shivering, his head full of rocks and cobwebs, Ronny opened one eye. Guardrails sped past the window. Merle Haggard blared on the radio. The Okie from Muskogee, who didn’t take trips on LSD. Okies sounded pretty boring.

  Jack whistled along to the music. The hula girl dangling from the mirror twitched and swung in his line of sight. Ronny’s head ached.

  “Good morning, Freak Show.”

  “What time is it?” he groaned. Shifting his feet, he kicked aside fast food wrappers and beer cans. The truck cab smelled of bacon and cigarettes, making him hungry for both. A giggle sounded behind the seat.

  “Hi.” Vicki waved. The red beads that hung behind the seats draped her shoulders like a shawl. Their gear had been shoved behind Jack and Vicki sat next to it on an old crate, jostling along with the truck. Now and then, her knees parted and Ronny could see up her skirt. He wondered if she owned any underwear.

  “More like what day is it,” Jack chuckled. “You’ve been a space cadet for a while. I had to do the run without you.”

  Ronny blinked. A whole day gone. “Sorry. Where are we going now?”

  “Home. Gotta take this old girl in for inspection. You know how the boss likes to keep everything by the book.”

  “Home?” Ronny’s head ached at the thought. He hadn’t seen his dad in weeks; he didn’t want to see him. Maybe he wouldn’t bother, Warren still took as much money as he could get from him. “Why are you here?”

  Vicki smacked her gum. It smelled of watermelon. “You asked me to come. We’re going to get a place together.”

  “I’m only seventeen. How am I going to get a place?”

  “But I am an adult.”

  She didn’t look like an adult.

  “Don’t worry, it’ll be great.”

  Ronny turned to stare out the window. A grey sky loomed overhead, the clouds heavy with rain. Jack turned the truck off the highway and onto a narrow side road, they weren’t far now. Ronny didn’t know if he should be happy or worried that she wanted to live with him. He liked the idea of his own place, but he wasn’t sure about Vicki. He barely knew her. Still, if she could get him shit that would send him on trips like the one he just had, she might be worth keeping around.

  “Just remember, lovebirds, this truck rolls out in two days. No more dope, kid.”

  If he got nailed for drugs, Ronny could kiss his truck license goodbye. He had to have a clear record or they wouldn’t let him write. He’d be eighteen in a few days, and would write before their next big haul.

  “I know,” he said.

  “Good, it’ll be nice to be the one doing the sleeping now and then. We could get these hauls done way faster with two of us driving.”

  “I thought I’d get my own rig.”

  “Shit, no. You think they’d give a truck to a newbie?”

  Ronny wanted his own truck. Then he could take off any time he wanted and never return home. But Jack was right. It was stupid to think they’d let him have his own rig.

  “Don’t worry, kid, ride a couple more years with me, then you get your own. I’ll even help you get it looking as snazzy as this old girl.”

  Ronny smiled. He could do without the red leather seats and the black bear skin rugs that hung over the back of them. Sure, it looked pretty cool, but after a while the fur smelled like dirty feet and farts. The shit Jack hung all over the place, like beads and G-strings, were distracting. He’d never be able to concentrate on driving with a used pair of panties brushing the back of his head. Hell, he barely managed to focus as a passenger in this rolling circus.

  “Then I can come on the road with you,” Vicki chimed in. “That will be super, won’t it?”

  “Super, right.” Ronny smiled.

  PART TWO

  “Unto the woman he said, I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception; in sorrow thou shalt bring forth children; and thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee."

  Genesis 3:16 (KJV)

  CHAPTER 9

  July 1974

  Dana smoothed the front of her dress. In less than an hour she would be Garrett’s wife.

  “You look lovely,” Catherine said.

  “Thanks. I wish Dad could have come.”

  “He couldn’t get time off.”

  Catherine lied, but Dana didn’t want to ruin the day by crying about it again. He had made clear he hated Garrett, and thought the marriage was the biggest mistake of her life; one he would not condone with his presence.

  “Mum’s coming,” Catherine said. “She’ll take lots of pictures for Dad.”

  Her mother wouldn’t allow people another reason to gossip. She’d come, make like a good mother, and then leave as soon as was acceptable. Catherine straightened the veil on Dana’s head and tucked a curl behind her ear.

  “Where are your shoes?” she asked. �
��Don’t tell me you’ve lost them.”

  “They’re downstairs. We should go.”

  Catherine touched her arm as she started out the door.

  “What?” Dana asked.

  “Are you sure about this? I mean, really sure?”

  “Why does everyone think I can’t make a sensible decision on my own? Garrett loves me. We’ve dated for four years. I love him.”

  “But we still don’t know him. It’s like he’s avoided us all this time. I’ve only had one conversation with him and that was last week at your bridal shower.”

  “Our family is kind of overwhelming and Garrett gets nervous meeting new people. Mom met him.”

  “Twice.”

  “He loves me, Cat. Isn’t that enough?”

  “I just worry. You haven’t dated anyone else. I’d hate to see you regret this. Marriage is forever.”

  “Good, because that’s how long I’ll love him.”

  Dana left the room, not waiting to see if Catherine followed. She was tired of everyone questioning her judgment and criticizing her.

  Catherine’s Mustang, a gift from her husband Roger, was parked in front of the house. Dana climbed inside. Maybe this time next year she’d have a nice car with a baby in the backseat and a picket fence around her yard, like Catherine. Then they’d see she wasn’t making a mistake.

  —

  Garrett stood at the front of the church. Shining through the stained-glass windows, the late afternoon sun warmed his face. Sweat soaked his shirt. He tugged at it, hoping the dampness didn’t seep through his tuxedo jacket. Powder blue would show it and he didn’t want people thinking he was nervous.

  Next to him, Pete made cow’s eyes at Jannie Parson. Would that kid ever grow up? Jannie was notorious for spreading her legs for anyone who gave her even the slightest bit of attention. Pete could do better.

  Ignoring his brother, he turned his attention to the people crowded into the small church, sweating through their Sunday best. To the right, filling the pews to the back of the room, sat Dana’s family. His own family and friends barely occupied half of the left side. Everyone looked hot and bored. Garrett reminded himself that this was a necessary formality. His parents had insisted on a church wedding.

  At the first notes from the organ, Garrett turned to the front of the church where the big doors had opened. Dana appeared, on his father’s arm. Barry, the fucking prick, thought himself too good to show up at his daughter’s wedding, so Garrett’s father had stepped up.

  Dana’s veil concealed her face, but it was the only part of her that she’d covered. The white lace mini she wore showed off her legs, her back and, if she had boobs, they’d be spilling over the neckline. He should’ve demanded approval of her dress.

  As the anger threatened to boil over, Garrett schooled his expression and counted silently to calm down. In minutes, she would be his, and all time spent courting her, coddling her, would make every disappointment worthwhile.

  —

  Dana’s wedding day flew by in a blur of faces and tears. Each time she looked at Garrett, a frisson of fear danced through her heart. She tried to tell him about Marcus many times, but could never find the words. Now it was too late. When he found out…maybe he wouldn’t notice. Tanya told her some girls don’t bleed the first time. He might believe that.

  She pushed her fears aside, allowing the excitement of the day to carry her past her fears of the honeymoon. The buffet of cold meats, various casseroles, and desserts that her mother set up had been a hit. Garrett curled his nose up at the idea at first, and told her his father could come up with a real meal. They owned a restaurant after all. She refused. Her mom had to be allowed to contribute something.

  Garrett’s buddy, Paul, after drinking two bottles of the table wine, climbed on the bar at the back of the room and began a strip tease. Luke wrestled him down amid hoots and laughter from the guests. Her sisters giggled when Garrett carried her out of the hall to his new Charger, decorated in beer cans and tissue flowers. When he saw what they’d done to his baby, Garrett flushed.

  “We can clean it up tomorrow,” Dana said. “They didn’t hurt it.”

  “If there is one scratch, I’ll be kicking someone’s ass.”

  He set her down so abruptly Dana almost fell over. She stared as he unlocked her door and then walked around to his side. Breathing a silent prayer of thanks that it was too dark to see any scratches, Dana climbed in, swung her legs around, careful to avoid flashing the spectators on the steps of the hall, and forced a smile.

  “I don’t know why you wore that.” He turned the key and revved the engine. “Look like a whore.”

  “The woman at the store said it’s what all brides are wearing this summer,” she said. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”

  “You embarrassed yourself.”

  The group on the steps, waved happily to the newlyweds.

  “It’s over now,” he said. “No big deal.”

  Dana thought he spoke more to himself than to her. She rested one hand on his knee. He pulled away from the curb, cursing as the cans clattered behind. Anger radiated off him. Sometimes he got moody like this, and all she could do was wait it out.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the trailer.”

  “I thought we were getting a room somewhere.”

  “Why?”

  Dana focused on her hands, now restless in her lap. “We talked about Niagara Falls, so I just thought—”

  “I don’t waste money,” he said. “The trailer is free and we’ll be alone. Is it not good enough for you?”

  Dana wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “No, it’s fine. I just didn’t know.”

  “I know we talked about going away, but I have car payments and we’ll have other bills soon enough. This can be romantic too, you know.”

  “I said it’s fine. Really.”

  The rest of the drive was silent. Once they were out of town, he stopped to remove the cans, and climbed back in without so much as a glance at Dana. He fiddled the radio dial to a station playing Johnny Cash. ‘Because you’re mine, I walk the line,’ Cash’s deep voice filled the car. She hadn’t been a big country music fan, but learned to like it when she realized it was important to him.

  When they arrived at the trailer park an hour later, Garrett’s mood had improved. He opened her door and helped her out and then swept her up in his arms to carry her to the trailer.

  Dana wrapped her arms around his neck as he struggled to hold her while opening the small metal door.

  “I’ve waited four long years for this night,” Garrett said as he carried her inside. He tossed her on the bed, reached above his head and switched on the light.

  Dana scrambled back until her bottom rested against the wall to watch him struggle with the buttons on his shirt, her anxiety forming a lump in her chest. They’d fooled around before, but she always stopped him before things went too far. Now she had no excuse. They were married. In a few minutes, he’d know she’d lied to him. He expected a wife who had never known another man. Talked about it all the time, like it was a point of pride for him.

  “Why so scared?” He smiled, unbuckling his pants and letting them slide down his legs.

  “I’m a little nervous.” Dana tugged at a loose thread on the edge of the duvet.

  “I’ll be gentle, don’t worry,” he promised.

  When he climbed on the edge of the bed and moved over her, Dana had a sudden urge to bring her knees between them. She didn’t, though. This was her job as his wife. If she couldn’t do this with her husband, what good was she?

  He kissed her neck, then her jaw. She inhaled Old Spice, cigarette smoke, and whiskey. This is Garrett. He would never hurt her intentionally. She mustered some courage and returned his kiss, but it vanished as he slid his hand between her thighs.

  “Relax,” he whispered. “I know what I’m doing.”

  She tried to erase visions of Marcus from her head, but the second Garrett touched her, sh
e was back in her old bed with him tugging at her panties, his groans muffled as he forced her to touch him, to kiss him.

  This wasn’t Marcus, though. It was Garrett. Marcus was dead. She couldn’t let him ruin another second of her life.

  “God, I love you,” Garrett said.

  “I love you too,” Dana replied, allowing him to reach around to lower the zip of her dress. “I’m just not sure what to do.”

  “Just do what I tell you this time.” He lowered her dress.

  Dana moved to cover herself but he pushed her arms down.

  “Stop. You’re beautiful.”

  “I wanted to wear something for you,” she said. “Let me get my bag and—”

  “Shut up.” He slid her panties over her hips and down her legs, then moved over her, pushing her down so that she lay flat beneath him. “We can do that silly shit later.”

  Garrett pushed her legs apart and settled himself between them. Dana tried to relax when he eased himself into her. It wasn’t like it’d been with Marcus. Instead of pain, she felt a different sort of discomfort. She lifted her hips. It’d be pleasant soon. Catherine said it got better the more you did it.

  Garrett stopped moving. “You lying bitch.”

  “No, Garrett—”

  He rammed himself into her. She fought to break free, but Garrett was too heavy. Too angry.

  “I’ll explain, please,” Dana pushed at his chest, but he grabbed her hands, and forced them over her head.

  “Fucking slut.” He pushed again and again. His fingers dug into her wrists, making her fingertips tingle. “All those times I…played me for a fool, eh?” Garrett thrust one final time before collapsing on top of her. Dana struggled to breathe, his weight crushing her lungs.

  “Garrett, I—” before she could finish his fist slammed her jaw. Pain exploded down her face. Instinctively, she jerked her arms up to ward off the next blow. It didn’t come.