Page 43 of Duke

THE DAMN ATTORNEY and realtor stole my time, precious time that I wanted to spend with my girl.

Pissed to all hell, I slap the steering wheel with my hand knowing I need to leave. I’ve been putting it off for far too long. But even though every time I’m with her it feels like the world stops.

It didn’t.

Now, I have to go back and face the shit-storm that brewed in my absence.

My truck races and swerves as I cut the wheel too hard, needing to get to her, to see her one last time before I go.

“Mother-fucker!”

Shanna trudges behind a push mower, even from this distance the sweat dripping down her face and back is evident and so is her fatigue. I see it in the tension of her back, the stiffness of her neck and the look in her eyes.

I cut the engine and jump out of the truck. “That’s it. I’m not having this.” The freshly cut grass clings to my boots as I step through it and turn off the mower.

“Never again, I’m putting my foot down on this. You’re running outta gas sweetheart. You can’t run everything.”

“The hell I can’t.”

Her chin lifts with eyes full of determination instead of defeat.

I grin, “Ah sugar; I know you can, but why? I’ll have a guy out here in five.”

“No.” She tries to maneuver the mower around me and re-start it, but the tip of my boot rests on the side; the weight of my leg on it too heavy for her to overcome.

“Must you fight me on everything, sugar?”

“Yes.”

“I told ya’. The two of you are a grease fire!”

Her father stands on the porch using the railing as a crutch.

I lift my leg off and charge him, “You fucking prick. Do you not see how hard she works? She’s gonna’ wear herself out. The bar, school, taking care of your ass and making her do all the housework? You’re a goddamn fool. At least I’ll treat her like a queen, not a frigging slave.”

“Do you want a piece of me boy?”

He throws his cane down at my feet, untucking a gun from his pants.

I laugh, not in the least afraid. I’ve battled in hell, an old man on death’s door, holding a gun in trembling hands doesn’t intimidate me.

“Duke?” She pleads, placing a hand on my arm. I shove her behind me just in case he accidentally pulls the trigger. “Go pack your shit.”

“WHAT?”

“You heard me, Shanna. Get inside and pack your shit. I’m not leaving you here, to be his goddamn workhorse any longer.” I turn to her old man, “I’m gonna’ fuckin’ kill ya’ for what you’re doing to her.”

Before her he can blink, my arm shoots out snatching the gun from his hands. I release the clip then empty the bullet from the chamber before tucking it into my pants.

“Don’t do this,” she whispers hugging me from behind. The feel of her small hands wrapped around my waist calms me down—but only a notch.

“I ain’t having this.”

“I can’t leave.”

“He’s right,” her old man sighs. “I’ve placed too much on your shoulders, baby girl and I didn’t even realize.”

“I’m fine,” she whispers.

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