Chapter Six

I take gas money from the jar on the kitchen windowsill. It looks like an ordinary vase to any unsuspecting burglars. Mom keeps it mostly full so we can grab what we need while she’s not around. Tonight, it’s for gas money. She told me to help myself right before she walked out of the back door and out of my life for another three days. Leaving me to deal with my sister, the house, and school.

I can’t remember the last time she asked me about my day.

Fuck her for that.

“Going to see Nok again?” Willow asks.

“No, just off to feed my bike.”

“And to see Nok again.”

I shrug, no point in denying it. “I have to try. He wasn’t at the track today.”

“Why do you always do this?” she snaps, her tired eyes weary. “Why play these games? What’s the point in any of this?”

“You ask me this every time.”

Her voice gets so loud my head feels like it’s splitting open for a moment. “Because you do this every time!”

“I have to!” I yell back, wishing she’d stop fighting with me on this. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“You’re insane if you think that.”

I laugh sardonically and slam the door in her face on my way out of the kitchen and then out of the house.

I went to the res again after school today once I’d finished dealing with Willow and getting her comfortable. I raced a few laps against Nash and two of his buddies and then sat and ate amazing sandwiches prepared by his grandmother who I haven’t met. He used a different word for her, but I can’t remember what it was.

He told me his nan is an elder and she doesn’t leave the immediate vicinity. Apparently, she’s sensitive to the emotions and troubles of others so she doesn’t like huge crowds of people.

She just makes them all sandwiches and snacks when they ask. A lot of it is freshly caught and cooked. I’ll never look at store-bought fish the same way again after such amazing sandwiches.

They are such welcoming people. Even Winona who is totally vying after Nash’s affections. She should hate me and she probably does but it’s ingrained in her to be polite. Unlike Nok who took one look at me, spat on the ground by my feet, and rode away with his own group of friends to location unknown. He’s hard to get near. I had two classes with him today and I couldn’t even entice him to look my way. He just did his work with his head down, not saying a thing to anyone.

Though I did get some info on his relationship with Barbie and I was shocked by what I heard. Apparently, rumor has it, he had sex with her in the back of his truck and then left her at a truck stop because he was done. That’s all he wanted. To humiliate her.

But I don’t know if that’s true as it didn’t come from Barbie herself and rumors in school spread like cancer.

Still… he gets worse and worse the more I hear and see of him.

I mount my bike and make the long drive to the gas station. Nash shouted at Nok earlier to remember to pick up a few gallons of gas for the quads. Of course, I low-key enquired about where he’d be getting it from on the lie that I was looking for the cheapest fuel prices around here, but whether he’ll be there or not when I get there is another thing entirely. Knowing my luck… he won’t be.

I fill up my tank in the empty station, lifting up my visor so I can see better in the dark. The only light comes through the glass windows of the gas station. I put the nozzle back and head inside, readying my wallet to pay.

One of the truckers loitering around with two others to the right of the building wolf whistles. “Walk on over here, pretty lady, if you want a good time.”

They laugh as though he’s so fucking hilarious which he’s not.

I ignore them and push on the store door; it beeps when it reaches a thirty-degree angle and drags on the tiles the rest of the way.

“We’ll pay you!”

“With my massive dick!”

I keep ignoring them and head inside, letting the door close behind me. I’m not scared of them, but I am aware of where my sharpened switchblade is tucked into my boot just in case I need it.

A TV in the corner by the counter fills the space with sound. I vaguely listen as I search for where they keep the cold drinks.

“Such a nice, loving young man… didn’t deserve this… family distraught… miss him… inhumane…”

I roll my eyes. People always lie when people die, they tell about how nice they are and how loved when really they were a complete dick while alive. It’s such a joke. People are pussies. When I die I want the world to know what a cunt I was while alive. Don’t do me a disservice by pretending I was anything other than what I am.

I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator and almost squeak with glee when I hear another car pull up outside. It’s Nok’s truck.

FUCK YES!

I didn’t think I’d get so lucky.

Somebody climbs out with him; I think his name is Joseph but I’m not completely certain. I saw him on the track today riding a quad before leaving with Nok as I sat with Nash. So many names. I’m usually good at this but I’m tired and too eager.

I’ve never struggled to entice a bad boy before, ever. Nok is too much of a fucking challenge, I might just not bother with any of this at all. Maybe my sister is right? Maybe I am insane for doing this but it’s just… he’s not a nice guy. I know that. There’s no redeeming him in my eyes. But whatever.

I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do to make this hell a little bit more bearable.

This is perfect though. I am buzzing with electric excitement at how well this has panned out.

I quickly pay for my water and gas and mutter a curse under my breath. “Do you have a restroom?”

“Over there,” the bored-looking cashier says, pointing to the far corner.

I don’t actually need to pee, but I need a reason to hang back and make my play. I head inside, careful not to touch anything and wait approximately three minutes until the beep above the door sounds across the store.

I make my exit and as I’m doing so the beep sounds again.

“Don’t you fucking ignore me, bush brownie,” snarls the voice of the trucker that catcalled me outside.

Oh man. Come on. Give me a break, Satan.

“Don’t, Nokosi,” Joseph pleads. “He’s not worth it.”

“No, brownies like you ain’t worth it. Ain’t worth shit. Fuck off back to your hovels and grill a salmon.” The trucker and his pals start laughing, I creep around the shelving unit and watch them all high-five like children. Nok is livid, his hands are balled into fists, but he’s outnumbered, and these guys are packing. Or at least the greasy-looking white guy with a red cap is.

I see the handle of his Glock when he flips his leather vest back to put a hand on his hip. It’s in a holster on his belt. This is bad.

Nok and Joseph see it too and their demeanors visibly change.

“We’re not looking for any trouble,” Joseph says calmly, raising his hands as I check out the dome mirrors on the ceiling to get a better look of all three men. I don’t see any guns on the rest of them. “We just want to pay for our gas and go back to the res where we belong.”

“A lot of gas you got in your trunk,” one trucker comments, this one in a denim jacket and loose-fitting jeans. “Paying in cash?”

The guy behind the desk tenses but says nothing. He’s about to lose a sale and a lot of gas if these guys take Nok’s money.

Nobody moves, they’re at a standstill, waiting for Nok to retrieve his wallet. He doesn’t. He’s boiling with anger; I can see it in his eyes. No wonder he hates white people if this is how we’ve treated him all his life. He’s not surprised by the racism and neither is Joseph, in fact Joseph knows exactly how to react to deescalate this situation. They probably get more of this than most would like to admit.

“Hand over what you’ve got, we’ll cover the bill and take the rest, how’s that sound?” red cap asks, a twisted smile on his face.

“Sounds about right to me,” his friend adds, grinning just as twisted.

“Whatever, just don’t start fighting,” the cashier, still looking tired, says. He even finishes it with a yawn. “I’m not in the mood to clean your blood off the shelves.”

“You’re not having shit,” Nok barks, his voice deep, angry, and gravelly.

Joseph puts his hand on Nok’s shoulder. “Nokosi maybe we should—”

“I didn’t say this was open to negotiation. Ain’t no cameras in here, boy. Give me your money and we’ll be on our way.” He looks at the shaggy-haired cashier. “You seen us in here, kid? Seen what we done?”

The cashier shakes his head. “Not my problem, don’t care.”

Nok is going to blow. I can see and feel it. And he will lose. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Fuck. What do I do? Why do I care? There are plenty of other assholes in that school to taunt. There will be another just like him.

I hide behind the shelves and assess my options. I have my switchblade which will be useless against a gun so really… I need to get the gun. Or I could just let them take the money and leave, but then where’s the fun in that?

“No sudden movements, just hand over the wallet and we’ll be done here.”

I pull my helmet back on, having taken it off in the bathroom to breathe for a moment, and flip down the visor.

Then I clear my throat, raise my hands and utter in a polite, Southern accent, “Can I just meander on by? I ain’t seen nothin’ here but I’m tired and lookin’ to get back to my motel.”

“It’s the girl,” the third trucker whispers and all eyes come to me as I walk down the side aisle towards them, hands up, fingers splayed either side of my shoulders. He has what looks like a dead beaver on his head.

I mentally name them for ease, this one is Beaver, his buddy is Butthead and the guy with the gun is Grease or Trucker… whichever.

Nok looks at me, his eyes widening in question. He flickers them back to the bathroom, communicating with me to go back. I’m surprised by this, to be honest. He’s the last person I expected to tell me to get the hell out of Dodge.

“Sure, you can squeeze on by,” the trucker with the gun says with a grin. “Did not realize you’re a Texan girl yourself. If I’m right in sayin’?”

“You are. But I’m just passin’ through.”

“Long way away to pass through.”

I shrug, lowering my hands and flipping up my visor so as to meet his eyes. “I pass through a lot of places.”

He shows his yellowing teeth. “Well, why don’t you hang with us three gents for a while? We’ll show you a nice time local, buy you dinner, coupla drinks.”

The fact he called himself a “gent” is almost laughable.

I glance at Nok ignoring the stiffness of his jaw and fury in his eyes. “Don’t he need to give you money for that?”

“Nah, I just don’t like my good American dollar in the hands of a little black prairie boy.”

I grit my teeth at that insult and smile like I agree with him which I absolutely don’t. “Right? Fuck them. Throw them over the wall with the rest of those brownies.”

“Knew it,” Nok mutters and Joseph sneers at me too. Neither of them knows what I’m doing, that’s how convincing I’m being. Or at least I hope I’m being convincing.

Trucker’s friends laugh so hard at that, giving me opportunity to sidle closer. “Actually, it’d be nice hanging with some Southern men, drinkin’ beer and eating wings. I’ve had a cravin’ for some chicken wings in I don’t know how long.” I’m close enough now to do what I need to do, I put my hand on his chest. My heart is a blur in my chest. I can hardly breathe. “Give him the money he asked for and we’ll be on our way.”

Joseph pulls the wallet from Nok’s pocket who is glaring at the man so hard his eyes are bloodshot. He’s mad. Really fucking mad.

“You’ll pay for this,” Nok says to me, his eyes on mine.

I grin at him. “Only person payin’ here is you, darlin’.”

Trucker’s friends laugh again and watch as Joseph pays for the fuel and then starts to hand over the wallet. I snatch it from between them making them all look at me, confusion marring each of their very different faces.

I flip it open with one hand while backing out of reach. “Whoa, there’s gotta be at least eight hundred bucks in here.”

“That’s mine, kitten,” Trucker breathes, his tone warning. He doesn’t trust me or my intentions anymore.

I shove it into my jacket where it gets trapped between my breasts and the tight protective material. “Nope, pretty sure it’s mine now.”

Trucker’s friend Beaver barks, “Her accent is gone. She fucking played you.”

“Give me the wallet, I ain’t playin’ back.”

“What you gonna do?” I taunt, laughing when he steps towards me. “Shoot me?”

He glances at me with wild brown eyes, then at Nok and then back again. “That’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”