Page 16 of Daddy's Little Convict
Her every waking nerve was screaming for her to move. To stop this. But how? Did she slap his hand away and risk angering him? Did she get up and move? And if so, move where? Every seat but one was taken, and if she moved away from him, would one of, what… the seven single guys here try to claim her instead? Would she become a prize in a free for all?
Swallowing hard, she turned to Eli, hugging her lunch tight. If she had to overpower someone, Eli was the scrawniest option here, and even then she had zero confidence in her brawling abilities. Her only hope was to go along until she simply had no other choice.
Three more years… Jesus.
“Would it be all right if I took you up on that nap?” she asked.
Eli’s smile broadened. “I got you, baby.” He took his hand off her thigh and slung his arm around her shoulders instead, drawing her in until she had no choice but to lay her head upon his chest.
His shirt smelled like hand soap, and though his fingers slipped from her shoulder, snaking in under her arm to cop a feel of side-boob, this was the first time she’d been hugged since before her arrest.
She dared not relax, but her eyes closed as she buried her face into his shirt and pretending with all her might that she was with someone—anyone—else. The unwelcome mental image of the sheriff popped into her mind and refused to be dislodged.
She retreated into her mind, trying to find a time when she viewed police as the ultimate protectors. The sheriff was anything but someone to call for help, and yet there was reluctant comfort to be had in imagining his strong, authoritative arms and not Eli’s boyishly skinny ones around her.
Not that she dared be seen seeking company from—or even just being seen talking to—Jeff. Travis had made his point clear on that front. The unfolding morning was simply adding emphasis to what she already knew: she was not in a good place.
And she hadn’t even reached the farm yet.
Chapter 5
She smelled the pungent marijuana smell long before she saw them, and as the scent grew stronger, she couldn't help but lift her head off Eli's shoulder and look around. The bus had been going uphill for some time, in gradual increments that nevertheless had her ears popping each time she swallowed. But it wasn't until she opened her eyes that she realized they had left desert scrub and grassland well behind them. A thick forest of evergreens dominated her surroundings now. This was elk and deer country, with the bears and cougars that fed on them never far behind.
It was through the dense curtain of trees that she caught her first glimpse of light green smothering what might have been a clearing if only she could see deeper in past the trees.
That couldn't possibly be what she was smelling. What probation officer would send his charges out on work detail at a pot farm?
Yet, the odor was unmistakable.
She turned to Eli, who took one look at her face and shrugged. "Don't take so much as a leaf. They check you. They also don't give second chances."
"This isn’t the farm that we're... we're supposed to..."
"Yup," he drawled. "Twelve hours a day, six days a week. Two breaks. No holidays. Pays daily, though."
"If they let you keep it," the red-head muttered from two seats ahead. She was sitting upright now, watching through the window as the forest thinned and finally pulled back enough to reveal not just farm fields but a half-dozen outbuildings and the two-story, hundred-year-old farmhouse that crowned it all. "You're new. You'll be lucky if they let you keep five bucks a day."
Her companion snorted and nodded. A few others laughed.
Tabitha looked out the window, her panic growing cold inside her. "This is right off the road. Cops could find this place easily!"
"They haven't yet," Eli soothed.
"We'll all get arrested. We'll go back to prison," she insisted.
"Not if we keep our mouths shut." A guy halfway down the aisle turned in his seat to give her a pointed look.
The bus pulled into the dirt driveway, then turned right and slowly traveled the length of what looked like two well-worn tire tracks through the brush, past the soy crop growing near the house and back toward the unmistakable smell of marijuana.
She shook her head, panic growing colder underneath her heart. "I-I can't do this."
She was not a drug dealer, grower, or user. She'd never even seen the stuff, and to the best of her knowledge, neither had any of her childhood friends. Of course, she never would have guessed her best friend would steal a car and take her on a joyride either. But it didn't matter, she was not about to end up in jail again, this time for drug related charges.
Laughing, the red-head turned around, her mouth twisting in a disbelieving smirk. "Like you think you have a choice? Bitch,you think we had one? You ain't nothing special, you got that. You aren't better than we are either, so just shut your mouth and don't make trouble. Got it?"
Tabitha shook her head. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to do this. "But we can't," she said again. Her voice was small. She sounded stupid, even to her own ears, but it was the only thing she could think to say. It was the only thought in her head, repeating itself over and over again. She couldn't do this. She couldn't risk getting into more trouble. She couldn't do this!
"She's going to get us into trouble," muttered an unknown man from further up.
