Page 32 of Rough
“What’d ya see?” he asks, a look of glee filling his face at the same time that Clyde’s falls into a frown.
“A whole freezer full of vials, ready for use. Right inside the horse stable.” I plop onto the couch next to Clyde and shove at his shoulder. “She also had some visitors today.”
“Who?” he asks. He doesn’t seem interested in the freezer shit, but I knew knowing someone being there would get him riled up.
“Some guy lookin’ to help her out online, like what Trina does for us, and also her boyfriend.”
I expected Clyde to react poorly, but not Remy as well. They both shoot up, sitting straight. Growling, Clyde looks away from me when Remy asks, “Boyfriend? Since when?”
Laughing, I lean back against the couch. “Don’t think they’re together now, but she got herself hooked up with the mayor’s brother. Seems like a dick, but whatever. He ain’t our problem. Point is, I found where she’s storin’ those vials for her breedin’ shit. Talked to her for a minute, too. She also didn’t give a shit about firin’ Uncle Murphy. Fucked up if you ask me.”
“How’s she storin’ it?” Remy asks, ignoring what I said about my uncle.
Smiling at him, I lock my hands behind my neck and feel a sense of peace that we got something that’ll fuck her over. “Right there in the horse barn. She’s got a freezer full of samples from bulls. Dated and labeled and everythin’. It’d be a shame if somethin’ happened to it.”
Grinning at me, Remy settles back into his chair and hums in agreement. “Damn shame,” he murmurs.
Clyde doesn’t relax. Looking between the two of us, he grits out, “I don’t think ya’ll should fuck with that. That’s more than just gettin’ a bunch of kids to stop workin’ for her.”
I hike my shoulders up. “She should’ve thought about that before stealin’ Rem’s farm. That girl isn’t the same one we knew. Don’t forget it,” I warn.
“We left her,” he says quietly, never relaxing back into his seat.
“We left this place; we didn’t leaveher. We did what we needed to. Our lives don’t revolve around Betsy Harper.” Remy’s words don’t feel right, but I don’t argue with him. She deserves what’s coming to her.
Chapter Thirteen
Flashback
~ 7 years ago ~ Wilder
“Before we get into this next run, you gotta make sure you keep your speed up. ‘Kay?”
My ‘for right now’ girlfriend, Lindsey, and I decided to go mudding in our trucks, and she promised me she knew what she was doing. She’s full of shit, though, because I swear to God, this girl keeps getting stuck at every trail.
A little growl comes from the window where she’s sticking her head out. “Look, if I go too fast, the mud is gonna splatter right into my window, whichyouinsist I keep down so I can hear you!”
Rolling my eyes, I walk over to her window and lean my head inside. “Mud is gonna come in. It’s why we call it muddin’. Just don’t worry ‘bout it. It’s supposed to be fun. We’ll get your daddy’s truck all cleaned up before you head back home. Besides, I’ve seen him take it out on the trails and completely covered. Does it look like it’s messed up in here?”
“No, I suppose not. Alright, I’ll make sure to make it through this time.”
Dipping my head, I pop a quick kiss to her cheek and give her a huge smile when she fights back a grin. Smacking the top of her truck, I jog back to my Chevy and shift it into four-wheel drive. The next run has a bit of a curve, but I’m familiar enough with it to know that I have to stick to the right side. If I slip too far to the left, it’s a fifty-fifty on whether I’m making it out.
“Let’s go!” I holler out my window and shift my truck into drive. Pressing the gas pedal, I whoop to myself and enjoy the rush when my tires hit the mud, making the momentum feel sluggish. I don’t let off the gas too much, but just enough so my tires don’t spin in place, digging me in.
Bouncing through the tracks dug out from previous trucks, I clench my fingers around the wheel and lean forward. I turn my wipers on when a wave of water sprays up over the front and slams into the windshield. It’s been raining for a few days, so it’s extra waterlogged this afternoon.
A squeal sounds over my engine from behind me, but my side mirror is already coated, so I can’t see what Lindsey is doing. The curve is just ahead, so I brace myself to steer the truck to the right side. Keeping my wheels forward, I try to ease my way over to the side, but I can’t get my tires to bump over into the third set of tracks. The mud wall is too high, causing me to keep slipping back to the left.
“Fuck,” I bite out, trying again with no success. “Come on, you fucker. Get to the right!” I shout, feeling my speed slow to a crawl. My tires start spinning and the back end swivels a bit before I come to a stop halfway around the turn.
Fuck, I’m fucking stuck.
Groaning, I press my forehead to my steering wheel, then stick my head out to check in on where my girlfriend is. She’s about thirty feet behind me and sideways. She didn’t even makeit to the damn curve. “Did ya go too slow?” I shout at her and laugh when a middle finger sticks out the window.
Checking around me, I see that even though I was shooting for the right side of the track, I’m still closer to the left. Maybe four feet to clear to dry land. Shoving my door open, I wrinkle my nose when a bit of water flows into the footwell, but it’s par for the course. Jumping to dry ground, I jog back toward Lindsey’s truck and bark out a laugh at the look on her face.
“I don’t know why you like doing this shit. In what world is this fun?” she screeches at me, using her hand to wipe the speckles of mud from her face, groaning when she picks up her hair only to find mud coating the strands.
