Page 33 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

Troy drops a quick kiss on Traci’s forehead before cupping her chin, making sure he has her full attention. “Trace, I wish Dad were here to take care of things like when you were a little girl. He may not be here, but I am and we both know what needs to happen tonight.” Her reactions are sluggish, but he knows when the first inkling of what her brother is hinting at dawns on her. Her brown eyes grow wider as Troy continues on. “You drove drunk through deep snow on dangerous roads. You could have killed yourself or someone else. You invited a strange man into your home knowing he intended to spend the night. He could have been a rapist or a murderer, and even if he turned out to be an okay guy, I know you, Trace. You don’t do one-night stands. It’s just doesn’t seem like your style.”

His words have a sobering effect on her. “Oh God. I’m such an idiot. I’m so sorry, Troy. I was just feeling sorry for myself is all. It’ll never happen again.”

Troy hugs her close, her head resting just under his chin as he stands a head taller than his sister. He’s glad they can no longer see each other’s eyes. “I know it won’t, kiddo. And I know you really are sorry, but I just don’t think that’s enough tonight.” Troy takes a deep breath before continuing. “You need a head of your household (HoH) tonight, Trace. You’re off track. Dad’s not here. I know it’s kinda weird for both of us, but you’re important to me and I’d like to try to help you if I can. It’s your call, though.”

Her breathing is short as if she is panicking. He can appreciate the position he’s put her in, but really, she put herself in this position with her poor choices. He waits patiently for her to process her choices and is somewhat surprised when she agrees with his offer. “You’re right, Troy. I hate it, but you’re right.”

He’s not sure how to feel. A part of him had hoped she’d tell him to fuck off. Pulling out of their hug, he looks down into her troubled eyes and knows he would do anything to help his sister. “I want you to take a hot shower and then put on your pajamas and come back out here to talk some more.” Troy takes a deep breath before barging ahead. “And I want you to bring your wooden hairbrush with you when you come back.”

Her tears are back as she dampens the front of his button-down shirt. “Oh, no. Not the brush.” He can’t help but smile at her petulant whine. Troy notices she’s not saying no altogether. He suspects it’s because she knows as well as he does that her behavior tonight was completely unacceptable.

She looks up at him, a strange emotion in her eyes. “I know I’ve never given you a spanking before, Trace, but you and I both know your behavior has been over the top. You wouldn’t sit for a week if Dad were here.”

That pried a small smile from her before her eyes cloud over with tears again. “I know I deserve it, but please, Troy… not the brush.”

“Yes, Trace. The brush. Go freshen up and be back here within fifteen minutes. Don’t keep me waiting.” Troy’s confidence in his decision is solidifying her fate.

He suspects she wants to change her mind, but to her credit, she answers with a quiet, “Yes, sir.”

Chapter Two

Hallie Boudreaux has only driven in snow a handful of times in her entire life, and never, not once, has she driven in the kind of blizzard she has the misfortune of finding herself in the middle of on this dark December night. Her hands are shaking as she works to keep the car on the road, although she’s not sure if it’s because the heater in the clunker she’s driving doesn’t work well, or because she’s scared shitless with the dangerous situation she’s managed to find herself smack-dab in the middle of.

Way to go, Hallie. Eddie is gonna get the last laugh if you manage to kill yourself driving off a cliff in a blizzard.

Hallie hates that she keeps letting her thoughts stray back to the man she’s running away from, not that he is going to chase her. She’s worried about a million things, but Eddie tracking her down is not one of them. He might miss her managerial skills now that she’s gone, but she’s under no delusions. She only left three days ago and he’s probably already replaced her with a new big-wig band manager assigned by his shiny new recording studio. The same studio that Hallie had contacted over a year ago and convinced to recognize the extraordinary talent of the cutting-edge band with a growing fan base. The same fucking people who had promised they wanted the whole band, support staff and all.

Yeah, that lasted about thirty seconds.

The car fishtails as she rounds the inclined curve in the mountains of Colorado, jarring her to attention. For the tenth time in the last hour, she berates herself for not parking at the rest stop she passed on the turnpike before exiting to take this smaller back road. She was just so tired after traveling all the way from Oregon, stopping to nap in the car along the way. She doesn’t have enough cash to get a real motel with an actual bed. She’s had to use almost all her money to keep feeding the damn gas-guzzler junker she had the misfortune of borrowing. What little cash she had left had gone to feed her own caffeine addiction.

Hallie lets her mind start running through the laundry list of problems she is facing. It’s not that the worrying makes her feel better, but the panic level produced does have a way of helping her stay awake. Other than being cold, hungry and broke, she hates that she has to add homeless to the top of her ‘reasons it sucks to be Hallie’ list. Not that she’s had a stable home to call her own in a really long time, but the last few years hadn’t been all that bad, at least not until the last few months when Eddie seemed to go off the deep end.

Sure, being on the road and living out of cheap motels and the touring bus wasn’t exactly The Ritz, but when they weren’t touring, the tiny apartment she shared with Eddie had been nice enough. Only a few blocks from Santa Monica Beach in sunny California, she had enjoyed being so close to the ocean and had even learned how to surf passably well. She knows she won’t be doing much surfing in Eagle’s Pass.

That’s the next worry on her list. Will her Aunt Gina and Uncle Adam even recognize her? And even if they do, Hallie is not stupid enough to think they’re going to be happy to see her. Not after basically dropping off the map for the last three years. Sure, they’d exchanged Christmas cards and the occasional email, but they had been pretty clear about their disappointment in her when she had decided to run away on tour with a no-name musician, choosing to live in sin. She never got around to explaining to them that running away with Eddie had actually been the least sinful option available to her at the time.

She hasn’t seen her aunt and uncle since they’d come to Louisiana for her high school graduation. It may have only been just over five years ago, but the memories are so distant, it feels like a whole different person’s life. Hallie likes to compare her relatively short life to the way a heart doctor might read an EKG of a heart patient. Lots of very high highs followed by very low lows. Up and down, life seemed to go. Sad, but she’s learned to expect it. She knew the record deal a few months ago was one of her peaks and it would only be a matter of time before the next valley arrived. Tonight, driving through a blizzard in this crap car, unsure if she’s gonna make it to her aunt’s safely… well, this is one of the valleys. If it’s one thing she’s learned, she’ll survive, whatever happens. In fact, she’d just escaped one of the lowest valleys of her life. A pang of panic mixed with sadness at the memories of her last day with Eddie has her vision blurring.

Don’t go there, Hallie. He doesn’t deserve your tears.

The tired car’s dim headlights connect with a roadside sign indicating Eagle’s Pass is just three miles ahead. Relief courses through her. The gas gage is near empty and the roads are becoming almost impassible for anything less than snowplows. She’s lost track of the time but knows it must be close to midnight by now. She’d been pushing forward, trying to arrive before it got too late. After all, it’s bad enough showing up on Aunt Gina’s doorstep unannounced. Doing it after midnight is just plain rude. Just before her cell phone battery had died yesterday, she’d tried to phone the last number she had for her aunt but knowing they had moved from New England to Eagle’s Pass since then, understood why the number had been disconnected. She may have to settle for finding their house tonight and just sleep in the car until morning.

As she rounds another corner, Hallie catches a quick glimpse of a cluster of lights off in the distance. The town lights of Eagle’s Pass are swallowed by the thick trees lining the road. As she rounds the next curve of the winding road, the car fishtails yet again. If it wasn’t so scary driving alone on this dark road, it really would be a beautiful sight. The snow-covered trees stretching out as far as her headlights illuminate are actually quite breathtaking. Hallie’s mom, Gina’s sister, had never understood why her baby sister had agreed to move from the deep south of Louisiana first to New England and later to this ‘God-forsaken tundra’ as her mother had liked to call Colorado.

It only took Hallie living with her aunt and uncle one summer in New England as a preteen for her to understand her aunt’s motives. Ironically, the mountain scenery was only a small part of what made her summers with Aunt Gina and Uncle Adam some of the ‘peak’ moments in life. She always looks back to those summers as the happiest of her life. The closer she gets to Eagle’s Pass, the more worried Hallie gets that her memory may be playing tricks on her. Surely, her aunt and uncle couldn’t possibly be as loving and supportive as her childhood memories recall. People that wonderful only exist in the movies. Still, she knows if even half of what she remembers about her last living relatives is true, she will be happy here.

She’s within the last mile of her trip when a large deer darts out into the snow-covered road. Hallie slams on the breaks, succeeding in throwing the car into a fast-spinning doughnut in the center of the road before sliding off the far side, crashing through the thick brush lining of the road and careening hood first into the six-foot deep ditch. Time moves to slow motion for Hallie as the sound of crunching metal combines with snapping wood until the car comes to a final resting spot nose down at a forty-five-degree angle, propped against the trunk of a large tree. The sudden silence allows Hallie to hear her own gasping breaths as she tries to calm her racing heart.

Hallie’s forehead had connected with the steering wheel as she was thrust forward when the car decided to lose its battle with the tree. It all happened in the space of just a few seconds, yet even in her disoriented state, Hallie is relieved she’d been wearing her seatbelt. The car was so old, it had no airbags, so the belt was the only thing keeping her from lurching forward into the steering column of the crunched car.

A quiet hush descends all around her, yet inside, she wants to scream. The sound of her own semi-hysterical laughter breaks the silence, releasing some of her muscle’s tight tension from the accident.

She takes a few minutes to catch her breath, taking stock of her newest aches and pains, feeling relatively sure she’d done no major damage to herself. The car is another story. The rest of Hallie’s journey will be on foot as she is certain the car has reached the end of its lifespan.

The question is, how to get herself out of the car and back up to the road? She’s not looking forward to making her way to her aunt’s on foot considering she only has what most people would consider a light coat and fashion boots on her feet. Living in California had not required snow gear and her hasty departure had not allowed her to plan for the trip. She briefly considers sleeping in the car tonight and climbing out after daylight when someone might find her driving by, but the car’s engine is dead and she doesn’t relish the idea of freezing to death in the car. There is no other option. She’s going to have to walk the rest of the way tonight. It can’t be more than a mile.

She tests the driver’s door first to ensure she can get it open. The tree beside the car only allows for a foot-wide opening, but being ‘a runt’ as her stepfather, Gene, used to call her, does have its advantages. She takes a minute to stretch to grab up her purse from the passenger side floor along with the flimsy gloves she bought at a rest stop a few hundred miles back. She’ll have to have Uncle Adam bring her back for the other meager belongings in her small suitcase in the trunk tomorrow.

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