Page 52 of Moonshine Lullabies

“Goddamn! You’re so fuckin’blind!All of you makin’ up your fuckin’ mind, putting the weight of the fuckin’ world on her shoulders, and teaching her she ain’t trust none of your asses for shit!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He was calmed down, his confusion taking over even as my rage just amped up that much more.

“You all painted her right intofuckin’corner, pregnant and thirteen. All of you just fuckin’ assuming and judging, and not one of you – not you, your mom, or your fuckin’ daddy on her side! She’s been carrying this shit, this load for almostfifteen fuckin’ yearsuntil last night when she fuckin’begged meto make sure if somethin’ fuckin’ happened to her, that I make damn sure nothing happened to Tate, that he not go to his fuckin’ dad and that there’s no DNA test done.”

“What?”

“She said Trinity ain’t the kid’s father – that your daddy’s grown-ass man of a best friend Hamblin is!”

“Wait, is thisMauryorJerry Springer?” Axeman asked.

La Croix pointed at Axe and shouted savagely, “Shut up!” I could see it in the boss man’s face – the calculations, the connections he was making in real time.

Our president turned to me, the rage on his face a match for my own. Calm and quiet he told me, “You say that again.”

“She begged me not to say anything to anyone, but she said Hamblin came into her room one night, put his hand over her mouth, and he raped her. That she always used a condom with her boyfriend and they were careful as fuck, but this slimy fuck named Hamblin didn’t.”

Cypress staggered back against the pool table and put his hands out to catch himself. He grabbed onto the cue ball and bellowing in rage, he threw it against the cinderblock wall on the other side of the big room.

It got quiet after that. Real quiet.

“The rest of you fuck off to the chapel,” La Croix ordered. “Cy, you an’ Collier stay right here…” and it hit me.

La Croix knew the Gaudet family. They all grew up on the same bayou and waterways together. This was as personal to him in its own way as it was to me an’ Cypress at this point. The rest of the guys gave us the room, all except for Hex who stuck around and made eye contact with me. I gave a nod.

He was a cooler head, outside all of this without a personal dog in this fight. By the same token, he was the closest thing that I had to kin out here – both of us growing up in neighboring hollers, stomping through the same parts of the Appalachian forests. We were of the same people and had the same upbringing. That lent its own support.

“Hex,” La Croix intoned.

“All due respect, my brother, cooler heads prevail in a situation like this. I reckon it might be a good idea I stick around.”

“Not that,” La Croix said. “I was gonna say, you mind getting the three of us a shot of bourbon?

“Hell,” Hex declared. “I do believe after a bombshell like that, I’d right like to join in on that drinkin.”

La Croix nodded.

“Belly up to the bar, boys,” he ordered me and Cy.

Not sure I’d ever seen Cypress lose that cocky gleam in his eye or look so uncertain. Not sure if that made my ass feel sorry for him or if it just served to piss me off more.

I slid up onto one of the bar’s stools, La Croix on up next to me, and Cy on the other side of him.

Hex got behind the bar and brought out four shot glasses, bringing down the bottle of La Croix’s good shit.

“Can’t wait for the fuckin’ ‘shine to finish,” I grumbled, taking the proffered shot and downing it. It burned, sure, but it ain’t thatgoodburn of my papaw’s shine. I craved that like a motherfucker right now.

“I don’t understand,” Cypress said, pushing his emptied shot glass toward Hex for another pour.

I could see the gears in La Croix’s tatted bald head turning.

“This ain’t a club thing,” he said. “This is a family thing… but if y’all want our help…”

“No,” Cy said, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna believe it.” He downed the next shot and looked green around the gills and I scoffed.

“Yourfamily…” I said the word with as much derision as I could muster. “Y’all ain’t deserve Jess.”

Cy buried his head in his hands, scratching at his close-cropped hair at the top of it as I could tell a whole bunch of shit replayed in his thick skull.

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