Page 20 of Small Town Beast 2: Saverin's Duet

“Yes!” she gasped.

“My girl…good girl…fuck. Fuck! How is she this tight–”

“Oh!”

“Louder,” Saverin said. “I like when you holler. Scream the fuckin’ roof down.”

Tanya twined her legs around his waist, tipped herself back to take him even deeper, and did.

THREE

LORRIE

My love for you has turned to hate.

Absalom flicked the radio to the gospel station but the eternal words of Hank Williams lingered. Lorrie kept her eyes forward.Damn right, Hank.She hated Abi. He could go to hell and stay there. She never wanted to see him again. She never wanted him totouchher again.

“Here we are,” Absalom said, pulling up to a random spot in the pitch darkness. They’d been driving for what felt like hours down two miles of bad road. Lorrie’s whole body ached from rattling around the front seat. And where washere? Some cabin in the woods that looked like an FBI-most-wanted hideout. There would probably be a rickety twin bed, an army of mice, and no running water. Not the romantic night she had imagined when she drove up here all those hours ago with all her fool ideas of winning back her man.

“You alright?” Abi asked quietly.

Without replying Lorrie climbed out of the dilapidated Ford Ranger and slammed the door. It was childish but she didn’t know what else to do. Everything was so confusing. She felt dirty and disgusting.

Absalom took her bag from her. “This way,” he said. In the crook of his arm he carried a long Winchester, the kind for hunting deer.

The pitch-black forest hummed with insects and night-birds and stranger things that sounded more spirit than animal. Lorrie’s slippered feet sank into thick layers of leaves. Following Absalom up the small trail towards the cabin took them through a hall of dancing fireflies. The moon was low. A strange cold air stole along the forest floor, enveloping the two night-travelers in its mist.

“You gonna stay mad?” Absalom asked.

Go to hell, she answered silently.

“We’ll talk more inside. I got to tell you something.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

The night Lorrie had kissed her neighbor Mike had been very different from this one. A sweltering heat had settled over Rowanville, the kind that made everything swollen and sticky. It was Absalom’s wedding day. But it wasn’t Lorrie Smith walking up the aisle to be his lawful wife. No; Lorrie was in Rowanville, finding it all out over Facebook.

Heartbroken, Lorrie went out and bought tequila, vodka, and peach juice. She fixed herself a Cowboy and drank it all down to the last drop. Then she made herself another one and watched the sun go down from her porch. Heartbreak rolled through her like thunder and lightning. Towards the end of her second drink: enter Mike, the neighbor.

“Watch your step,” said Abi in the present day, helping her up the leaf-strewn stairs. He handed off her bags, propped the rifle up carefully and got out a ring of keys.Dozensof keys.

“What are those for?” Lorrie was provoked to ask. She knew Abi had three keys: one for his truck, one for his house, and one for hers. This jailer’s ring she had never seen before.

“Later,” he said, putting his shoulder to the door.

Lorrie inhaled, expecting to be slammed with the musty odor of mouse droppings and dust. But instead came the faint smell of linseed and turpentine which meant it had been cleaned recently. Curious, she followed Absalom inside.

Betrayal was nothing new for Lorrie. She’d grown up poor. Her parents loved her but had demons, and her little brother drowned in New River when he was only nine. For as long as she could remember she had to look after herself. She clung to her faith because it was, at the end of the day, all she really had.

Then came Absalom. A redneck.Po’whitetrash, her Aunt Pearl would have scoffed. Lorrie never wanted to love him. Honestly. Despite what Abi thought she knew good and well how the race-mixing thing went up in Florin. Why bother with those white boys who thought themselves Lord and Master of their little trashy hollers? She saw them watching her. She sometimes heard their nasty talk. But she knew they would drop her like a hot potato as soon as they took what they wanted. So she moved accordingly.

But Abi was different. He looked after her. He talked to her. Hesawher, right down to her soul.

And what she loved most about him was that when he gave his word on something, he saw it throughno matter what. A promise for Absalom was like an oath written in blood. For a girl raised by liars it was enough. Their relationship wasn’t based on sex, but trust and understanding. She loved him completely and without reservation, more than she had ever loved another living soul.

And so this betrayal didn’t just hurt. It cut her wide open.

“The light works,” Absalom said, flicking a switch on the wall. “There’s running water, too. And the bed’s comfy. It’ll be alright for a night or two.”

---