Dirty Shame (Bluefield Bad Boys #1) Page 11

  “How the hell would I know that?”

  “Yeah, I guess hers is one of the few pussies you haven’t gotten to know intimately.”

  “Shit, Dawz, the way you talk you’d think you’ve been living in some damn monastery all this time. You couldn’t even remember the name of the last girl you took out to dinner.”

  “That’s cuz she had one of those weird long names. And she didn’t even use tongue when she kissed. A tight lipped good-night kiss is the perfect forever end to a relationship. Or, in our case, a perfect don’t bother to begin. Guess we can’t all be lucky and have our one true love prance back into town. It’s going good though. I can tell by that satisfied and cocky smile you’ve been wearing.”

  “Let’s just say, Lanie and I are having a good time getting reacquainted.”

  “Shit, reacquainted. Don’t forget I’m sleeping in the room next door, and those old walls have never heard of insulation. Bring Rylan tonight. Should be fun.”

  The man trip, the carrier that would take us back up the man way and out of the mine, was filling up fast. It was Thursday night, which after a long work week always felt like Friday eve. Over-drinking and over-spending wasn’t an option since a heavy hangover on a long Friday of mine work was nothing short of torture. And since Friday was payday, our pockets were pretty empty on Thursday night. But music and a pitcher of beer sounded good.

  “I’ll call Rylan when I get to the locker room and see if she wants to go.”

  Dawson’s light swung from side to side with a head shake. “Does that mean that you won’t go if she’s not interested?”

  “Didn’t say that, did I? Christ, I wish you’d find someone who means something more than just a quick fuck. If you ever do, I’m going to have a damn hay day giving you my unwanted opinions and comments just like you’re doing to me.”

  We picked up our pace to grab the last two seats on the man trip. A whistle shrieked through the air behind us. “Braddock.” I knew the voice without having to turn around.

  “What the hell does fuckface want from me now?” I looked back. Meade was standing next to his truck.

  “Braddock, ride out with me. I need to talk to you.”

  “Goddamnit,” I muttered.

  Dawson glanced back. “That pudding faced dick gets meaner every day. At lunch, a couple of the guys said he was in deep with some bookie over some football games he was betting on. Think that’s making him even worse. If that’s possible.”

  “I’ll catch up to you in the locker room, but if I don’t come out of this hell hole come looking for my body.”

  I headed back toward Meade. He climbed into his truck without waiting for me. I wondered, briefly, if he planned to just run me down and make it look like an accident.

  I opened the passenger side or the side that Gilly usually had his skinny ass planted in, acting the loyal and stupid sidekick to the honorary boss. I slid inside and shut the door without even bothering to look at Meade. Everything about his face made me want to throw a fist at it, so I decided to just avoid it.

  He said nothing as we waited for the man trip to start on its way up the passage to the surface. “Thought I warned you to stay away from Rylan,” he growled while still staring straight ahead.

  I shrugged. “Guess you did, but last I checked, you’re only boss down here and during mining hours. Even then, your authority is questionable and a big fucking joke.”

  His clean, pink hands gripped the steering wheel hard enough to make it creak. “You fucking Trog. I can have you off this work site with a snap of my fingers.”

  “First of all, if you snap those baby soft, pillowy fingers they won’t make much sound. And just try and get me off. I’ll have my union rep over here so fast, you won’t even have time to produce beads of sweat on that big, flat forehead of yours.”

  The words union rep got the response I’d expected. His knuckles turned white as he twisted his hands on the steering wheel. “I wouldn’t be so fucking confident, Kelly boy. You’d be surprised what a few good written reprimands from the boss can do. All I have to do is say you’re neglecting safety procedures, and you’ll be out on your ass in no time.” He always resorted to the nickname whenever he felt that he was losing control of the situation.

  “I’m not a teenager anymore. Your threats don’t work. You fire me, and I’ll just move on. Do whatever the fuck you need to get your rocks off, Meade, I’m not giving her up this time. I’m never giving her up.”

  The man trip was out of view. I glanced up the passageway. “Are we getting out of this hole or what? My shift is over.”

  With a sharp burst of anger, he shoved the truck into gear and it rolled forward. It seemed I was due for one long ride out of the mine.

  “Rylan’s dad knows about you being back in her life. You might think that you are headed toward a happy ending, but it’s never going to happen. Graham Merritt will see to it. And I’ve already offered my help.”

  “Told you, do whatever the fuck you want. None of it matters to me. And Rylan is an adult now. Her dad is going to have to come to grips with that.”

  Meade slammed on the brakes. My hand shot forward to the dash to keep from falling off the seat.

  “It’s a long, dark hike to the surface,” he said between gritted teeth. “But you could stay down here. It’s the perfect place for a lowlife Trog.” He looked pointedly at the door handle.

  “I’ll climb out, but the guys on that man trip all heard you say I was riding out with you. Might be a problem when you emerge without me.”

  He cussed under his breath. “Then get out and ride in back. That way I don’t have to smell you or look at that smug fucking face of yours.”

  “Huh, funny coincidence, I was just thinking that same damn thing.” I opened the door, hopped out and climbed into the bed of the truck. I watched his fat head bob back and forth and badly wanted to throw my fist straight through the back window and into the back of his skull.

  The thing that stuck most in my mind about our quick and ugly conversation was the mention of Graham Merritt. Jason was obviously itching for a repeat of grad night. Ironically, I would welcome a repeat. This time Meade would be the one stuck on the railroad bridge. And there was no way that coward would have the balls to jump into the river.

  Rumors of my successful jump had circled town for a few months afterward, but they vanished quickly when I told people it’d never happened. Dawson, Tommy and Andi did the same. I’d just wanted the whole damn night to disappear, and the river jump was too much of a reminder. I’d been pissed as hell at myself for letting a dick like Meade get the best of me. Mostly, I’d been pissed at myself for letting Merritt basically blackmail me out of seeing Rylan. I could only guess the river jump rumors had been started by Scott Lowe, who quickly broke off his friendship with Meade after that night. I’d never really forgiven Lowe for taking part in it, but we tolerated each other and even occasionally exchanged friendly words. With him being the owner of The Hole and with me being one of the crowd drawing fighters for his fight nights, it did neither of us any good to be enemies. But the asshole behind the wheel of the truck, my supposed boss and lifelong itch on my ass, was working hard to fuck up my life again. But I was done with his shit.

  The dim light of a cloudy, late afternoon was still enough to make me squint as the truck rolled out of the mineshaft. I hopped out while the truck was still rolling and headed toward the lockers.

  Dawson and most of the other guys looked up as I walked in. I went straight to my locker to change.

  Dawson balled up his coveralls and threw them inside his locker. He glanced around the door. “What did he want?”

  I shook my head, deciding if I talked about it, I’d start shooting fire from my nostrils. “You know how it is with Meade. Everything he says just goes in one ear and out the other.”


  Dawson took that answer as a ‘don’t ask’. “Seems to me you might need that beer more than ever tonight.”

  “Think you’re right about that, Dawz.”

  Chapter 20

  Rylan

  Becky yanked the towel off her head and pointed to her bangs. “Better?”

  “Yes, better.” Two hours earlier Becky had called in a near panic. After wearing blonde streaks in her dark brown bangs for several months, she’d suddenly glanced in a mirror and decided it was an un-fashion statement. Her new term for a look that would end up being laughed at by the fashion police or anyone with any sense of style. I might have saved her a few days by being more honest the second that the blonde streaks had forced a polite ‘looks great’ compliment.

  “Thanks so much for doing this for me,” Becky said as she rinsed the cup and brush out in the sink. “Rhonda had no more appointments left today.”

  “What are friends for if not to step in as emergency hair stylists and un-fashion erasers.”

  Becky plucked her hair dryer from beneath the bathroom cabinet. “I’ll hurry. I know you’re dying to get over to The Hole to see Kellan. The band that’s playing, Salt Dogs, is a local favorite. The place should be packed, which means the cash registers will be stuffed. Which, of course, means Scott will be in a good mood. I might just hit him up for that new purse I’ve been eyeing. It’s been awhile since he bought me anything nice.” Becky lived near me on the north side of town. Her family had come from what people liked to call old money. Her great grandfather had a successful lumber company, which he’d left to his son, who’d then left it to his son, Becky’s dad. But that’s where the family legacy and old money came to an abrupt end. Becky’s father was not a business man, and after he ran the company into the ground, he took off in shame. Becky’s mom had managed to hang onto the old estate that had been passed through the generations. But it was in bad need of repair, and neither Becky nor her mom made enough money to fix things.

  I sat on the faded quilt on her bed and checked my text messages. Kellan rarely texted. He preferred to call, mentioning that hearing my voice was the best part of the day. There was a text from Jane, my ex-boss in Pennsylvania, the wonderful woman who I’d stopped working for so I could follow dipshit to New York. Although, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I’d been the dipshit. I rubbed my thumb over the message and it opened.

  “Hey, Rylan, hope all is well with you. I confess I heard that the whole marriage thing didn’t work out. Which brings me to my text. The woman we hired to replace you was no replacement at all. So if you’re in need of a job, we’d love to have you back. Best wishes, Jane.”

  I stared at the text. Several weeks ago, after the Chase disaster, I would have been elbowing people out of my way at the airport to board that plane to Pennsylvania and get back to the life I’d started there. But now . . . Or was I being a dipshit again and letting a man decide how I would live my life? I thought about Kellan and how I woke up every morning thinking about him. When I wasn’t with him, I was thinking about being with him. This time I wasn’t letting a man decide for me, I was letting my heart decide. Of course, I knew better than to let my heart lead, but at the moment, it was completely and utterly in charge.

  Chapter 21

  Rylan

  The shabby, dingy interior of The Hole was starting to grow on me. It was a trashy sort of ambience that just seemed to work for the place. The band was already in full swing playing what sounded like an original song, rock and roll with a country twang that definitely made you want to pick up your feet. I felt even more like dancing when I saw Kellan through the crush of bar patrons. He was standing at a counter high table with Tommy, who was busy talking to two women. I’d just seen Kellan the night before, less than twenty-four hours, yet I found myself pushing quickly through the crowd to reach his side.

  His arm curled proprietarily around me, and he pulled me tight against him. He’d been acting completely possessive, something that, with anyone else would have irritated me. Chase had acted that way a few times in our relationship, trying to tell me who I could and couldn’t speak to, and I’d countered with a resounding ‘you don’t own me’. But it was different with Kellan. Chase had just needed to assert his manliness, to try and show who was boss. Kellan had no need to prove that he was every bit the man. I’d never felt like he was trying to show that he owned me. He didn’t make me feel like his possession. He made me feel as if I was worth fighting for. He made me feel like I was the single most important part of his life and, for a change, it was damn nice to feel that way.

  Kellan leaned over and kissed me. Instantly, his scent, soap mixed with that same earthy aroma that came with working in the mine and his raw masculinity, washed over me, making me feel lightheaded.

  “Missed you all damn day, Lanie. What were you up to while I toiled in the pit of hell?”

  “Big things. Exciting things. First, I agreed to work out with my mom, even though my gut instinct was to run from the house and never look back. Instead, I waddled on a stair stepper while she ran on her treadmill and lectured me about how I was eating all the wrong things. She has also decided that Abbie, the sweet little ice cream lady, is making the entire town head for an early grave.” I shook my head. “Can you imagine? We’re surrounded by coal dust, but it’s rocky road that’s going to take us all down. Then I binge watched some detective thing on streaming and it ended on a cliffhanger. So I checked up on Google to find out when the next season would be available. The series was cancelled. Which means, I’m left with a whodunnit mystery where I will forever be wondering whodunnit. Of course, the writers of the show probably didn’t know either. And I ended my important day by helping Becky get her bangs back to normal. The piano key look was no longer working for her.”

  Kellan laughed as he poured me a beer. “That is some pretty high stress stuff. And I thought my day of drilling the roof of the mine to keep it from collapsing was tough.”

  I sipped through the beer foam and rested my head against his shoulder. “I’ve got to find a job. I’ve got to get out from under my parents’ roof.” I had no intention of even mentioning that my old job was open again. It wasn’t relevant at the moment, and it would only serve to put him in a bad mood. I’d texted Jane back to thank her for the offer and let her know I’d think about it. But, the truth was, I was so thrilled to be back with Kellan, the job just didn’t seem that tempting anymore.

  Music thrummed off the walls. A group of people were dancing in the center of the floor. Dawson was up front dancing with a pretty girl who had long dark hair, but he seemed more interested in the singer on stage than his dance partner.

  Tommy leaned forward. “Hey, Ry, glad you’re here. Now Mr. Sourpuss can be more sunshiney again.”

  “Yep, sunshiney is the word everyone uses to describe me.” Kellan lifted his beer.

  “Rylan Merritt?” the girl next to Tommy said with surprise.

  “Zoe? How are you?” Zoe had been one of those semi-friends in high school. We’d partnered up in science lab and for homework projects because we were both no nonsense students who liked to get good grades. But as matched as we were academically, we had little else in common.

  “I’m great. I’d heard rumors you were back. Guess this explains why Kellan was giving us girls the cold shoulder tonight.”

  Tommy laughed, but Kellan ignored the comment.

  I glanced toward the band. “Looks kind of fun out there. Wanna dance on the next song?”

  “I guess I could work up the energy to twirl you around the dance floor.”

  As I drew my gaze away, I spotted a familiar face coming through the front door. I tapped Kellan on the shoulder. “Hey, isn’t that Dawson’s sister, Andi? Oh my gosh, she’s even prettier than I remembered.”

  Kellan looked pointedly over at Tommy, and I was reminded of the crush Tommy had
always had on Dawson’s twin sister. Andi spotted us. Her bright white smile broke out as she made her way across the floor.

  Tommy watched her over the rim of his glass as he drained it of beer. He smacked it down on the table hard enough to startle Zoe. “I’m going to the bar for a couple of shots.” Tommy didn’t look at Kellan when he said it.

  “Think that’s wise, Huck? We’ve got a long ass work day tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, we do. And yeah it’s wise.” He walked away leaving Zoe looking slightly offended.

  Zoe took a deep breath and excused herself from the table just as Andi reached us. Andi was always one of those smart, cute healthy looking types with a sporty figure and skin that was as smooth and flawless as cream. She hadn’t changed much since high school, except she looked more confident. And from what Kellan had told me about her dad, confidence was a hard won commodity to come by in their house.

  “Oh my gosh, Rylan, you are just as beautiful as ever,” Andi said, winning me over instantly.

  “I was just thinking the same thing about you. Guess true beauty never fades.” I shot her a wink and smiled at Kellan.

  “You’ll get no argument from me on that point,” Kellan said.

  Andi cast a somewhat disappointed glance in the direction of the bar. Tommy was leaning over the counter talking to the bartender. He’d walked away quickly but had taken at least two fleeting glances back at our table.

  Andi turned back to Kellan. “What the heck is going on with Tommy?”

  Kellan made an obvious stall for time by taking a drink of his beer. “You know, Huck. His moods change with the wind.”

  “Then I must keep running into him downwind. He always looks as if he wants to chew nails and spit them at someone.” She looked back toward the band. “Hey, Mr. Goober is dancing.” She laughed. “He is not exactly graceful but then I guess that’s to be expected of a guy with size thirteen feet.”