Page 23 of Bucked Hard

The music shuts off, and before I can open my eyes and figure out who I’m going to destroy, I hear the familiar voice.

“Hey, Wrangler, I’ve got your homecoming blow job waiting for you!” Courtney shouts from inside her truck, loud enough for Rachel and God to hear. And before I can tell her to shut the fuck up, Dove throws it in drive and spins her tires, shooting me with rocks and dust as she peels away.

“Hey! Wait!” I scream but it’s all taillights and dust. “Fuck.” I kick the dirt and stomp over to Courtney’s truck, slamming both hands down on the open window well. “Thanks a lot.”

“What?” She cracks up. “I was gonna come on by the house, so I called Roger to see if you were there. Said you went all Good Samaritan on him on RR2. Some cutie from the bar. I called your damn cell phone like a gazillion times trying to make sure you were okay out here in the middle of nowhere. Roger told me not to come, but I figured whoever it was you were trying to save probably told you to shove off and left you walking home. I knew you were still wearing that raggedy ass beard. Scare the good Lord himself. Besides, I was bored and he said he was going to bed as soon as he got home. So, here I am.”

I pat my back pocket. “I didn’t bring it. No one ever calls me.” I growl. “Well, when you saw I wasn’t alone you should have kept on going.” My voice is sharp. She should know better but Courtney is Courtney and she does what the hell suits her.

Looking down the black road there is a painful emptiness in my gut. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to do anything but kiss her again.

“Awww.” Courtney puffs out her lower lip ignoring my irritation. “Poor lonely cowboy.” She loses the pout and punches me in the shoulder. “I text you. I send you dirty old lady pictures every Sunday from church.”

I shake my head, pushing back off the driver’s side of the truck, and walk around to the passenger door, kicking the dirt because it’s the only way to take out my frustration.

“Yeah, and I delete that depraved shit when you do. Something is wrong with you, you know that?”

“That’s what Daddy always said.” She cackles and revs the engine. “Get your country butt in here, I’m hungry as hell. Wanna make frozen pizza when we get back to Roger’s?”

Her enthusiasm is lost on me as my heart cracks a little thinking of how Rachel must be hurting right now. I’m still debating if we should take off after her.

Courtney and I are just friends, but Dove doesn’t know that. I don’t know what she must be thinking, but whatever it is it’s not good.

“Let’s go.” I open the door and drop into the passenger seat. “You suck, you know that?”

“That’s what Daddy said too!”

She howls and hits the gas, and I want to tell her to go straight so we might be able to pick up the tail lights on Dove’s truck, but she’s long gone and I’m fucking more pissed about it than is appropriate.

“Shave. Like tonight.” Courtney looks over with a scowl.

“Why? I like it. I’m more anonymous.” I let out the breath I’ve been holding. “People leave me alone.”

“Give it up. Your asshole brother does not define you. No one around here even knows about that shit. All that hair just makes you look like you haven’t been down off the mountain in years. Clean up your face, cut your hair; I want my friend back.”

“I’m back.”

She shrugs. “You’ll feel better. Fresh start. Just do it okay?” She looks over at me with a wry grin, then back at the road. “Or Imma blow your phone up with every nasty, naked, old lady picture I can pull off Tumblr, you hear?”

I groan at her. Pissed and desperate with the taste of my Dove still on my tongue.

“Maybe, tomorrow. No promises. I’m going to go hit the feed stores around here in the morning. Look for some temporary work. Clear my head for a while.”

Trying to make conversation hurts. All I want to do is go find Dove and set this straight. But it’s late and I decide I’ll get back over to Crutches tomorrow night and track her down. Fix this.

“No one’s gonna hire you looking that that. You know they like ‘em clean cut in these parts.”

“Fine.” It’s clear she’s not going to give up. “I suppose you’ll do the honors.”

“Gladly. I’ll even use the good sheep sheers, not the old ones we use to castrate the bulls.”

“You’re sick, you know that?”

She pounds on the steering wheel with another hearty laugh, then clicks the radio back on so loud my beard shakes.

ChapterSeven

Rachel

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