Dirty South Drug Wars (17 page)

“What’s wrong, honey child?” Nana shuffled in behind me.

“Nothing, Nana.”

“Sweetie, you can fool everyone else, but you can’t fool old Nana,” she said, chuckling. “You’ve walked around with a goofy grin on your face for the past week, looking like the town drunk. Now you’ve got your nose all snarled up like you’ve got shit on your lip. What’s bothering you, Rue?”

I hated how perceptive my grandmother was at times. Nana’s face held an unusual softness. My grandmother was raised by stern, unemotional parents. I’d never heard my grandmother say “I love you” to anyone. Our people weren’t the kind of folks to show vulnerability. We were tough as pine knots.

“There’s so much wrong, Nana,” I admitted in a quiet voice as the men in the living room laughed and chatted. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Nana raised one delicate, dark eyebrow and leaned against the kitchen counter.

I chewed on my lip. Could I tell her about Tanner? Could I confide in my secret rendezvous?

“You gonna tell me or what?” She huffed. “I’m molting over here.”

“Fine.” I took a deep breath. “Have you ever liked someone who you weren’t supposed to like?”

Nana’s blue eyes widened a fraction before they narrowed in on me. She snatched my elbow and practically dragged me out the kitchen door and onto the back porch. Nana shut the door and turned to me with an unfamiliar expression on her face.

“I wasn’t always just old Nana Monroe, you know.” A whimsical smile tickled her lips. “At one time I was Sueleen Weston. I was a pretty little thing, and I’m not telling you that because I’m vain. It’s just a fact. I was a beauty queen and resembled a young Elizabeth Taylor. My mother entered me in beauty pageants to teach me how to walk, talk, and smile pretty. She thought the pageants would teach me decorum and help me snag a husband. The boys lined up to ask me for a date, but I always turned them down.”

“Why?” My mind played a scene of my auburn-haired grandmother turning down hordes of men with a gentle, beautiful smile on her face.

“Because my heart already belonged to someone else,” she whispered, her face falling. “I met a boy from a different place, a different town. My parents didn’t like him much. It wasn’t because he treated me poorly or anything like that. They just had high hopes their children would marry someone more affluent. We were poor country folks and didn’t have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of. They wanted their children to have the things in life they never had.”

“So what happened? You must have married him. Papa Monroe wasn’t rich. Was the man Papa Monroe?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I loved your grandfather.” Misty-eyed, she removed her glasses and wiped the tears away with trembling fingers. “Lord knows I loved him, and still do. But he couldn’t hold a candle to my first true love.”

I swallowed the lump of emotion in my throat, willing myself not to bail on the conversation. “So what happened?”

“Life happened.” She shoved her glasses on her face and took a shaky breath. “My parents raised me to be strong. We were all strong. We had to find strength during oppression. But I lacked courage. Strength is nothing without courage.

“You’re smart, Rue. You’re strong and you’re courageous. You are everything I desired to be at a young age but wasn’t. I made poor decisions in life. I question myself every day about what my life could have been like if I’d followed my heart. Follow your heart, Rue. But be careful with it. If you’re doing something you shouldn’t do, it’ll all come out eventually. Secrets always do.”

Nana started for the door. I reached for her arm and stopped her.

“What happened to him? The man who you loved?” I whispered, dreading her answer.

“I broke his heart,” she said. “Right after I broke things off with him, he went to war. I met Papa Monroe and we married. The boy wasn’t there long before he was killed in action, bless his heart. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about him.”

My grandmother entered the house, leaving me behind to ponder her words. The air surrounding me was thick and melancholy. Overwhelming sadness infiltrated my heart at the thought of my grandmother losing her first love.

But why had she married a poor man, my grandfather, if her parents’ desire for her to marry someone with money was the real reason she turned her first love down?

I guessed I’d never know the answer to that question. My grandmother had shut down after her speech and entered the house with a practiced, neutral expression on her face. I’d get nothing out of her the rest of the night.

Nana’s story only encouraged me to seek out my hidden feelings for Tanner. My life was already so full of regrets. The thought of waking up forty years later without Tanner’s loving arms wrapped around me was terrifying.

My hands gripped the steering wheel nervously. I racked my brain, formulating some sort of plan while driving home. My sister sat beside me silently until we pulled into the driveway down the steep hill. As I cut the engine, she gazed at me with a contemplative expression on her face.

“I know you’re seeing Tanner Montgomery.” Lucy arched one eyebrow, a silent dare for me to argue. “I want you to know I don’t agree with what you’re doing, but I understand why you choose to.”

“You’re crazy.”

“That’s what they say,” she said with a bemused grin. “I may be a little crazy, but I’m also your sister. I know you better than you know yourself. Tell me you’re not seeing Tanner Montgomery.”

“I’m not seeing Tanner Montgomery.”

“Liar,” she whispered, her smile replaced with a solemn stare. “Bad things will happen, Rue. Bad things will happen if you meet him tonight. They may not happen tonight, but they will happen. If you choose him, you choose that as well.”

“What kind of bad things?” A creeping sensation crawled over my skin, pricking the hairs on my arms.

Lucy pursed her lips and picked at her nails. There was a resigned yet thoughtful expression playing across the curves of her face.

“It doesn’t matter. You’ve already chosen,” she said with a voice full of resignation, hurt, and anxiousness. “People will rise, people will fall. Someone, maybe more, will die. What was hidden in the darkness will soon come to light. I hope you’re prepared for what’s coming, sister.”

With those final words, Lucy opened the door and slid from the vehicle. She walked slowly up the walkway and disappeared inside the dark house.

There was no time to contemplate Lucy’s cryptic remarks because my cell began to vibrate. Jumping slightly from the object breaking my thoughts, I removed it from my pocket. Tanner’s photo flashed across the screen and I answered, still hidden in my Jeep away from Lucy’s prying eyes.

“Hello?”

“End of your driveway. Five minutes,” Tanner said.

I began protesting, but it was in vain. I glared at the screen once it dawned on me that he’d hung up, giving me no choice but to meet him at the end of the driveway.

The house was still dark, and I was unsure what Lucy was doing inside. She’d slept in that day, which was strange to say the least. Lucy’s sleep patterns came and went in spurts. Sometimes she stayed awake for days on end. Then she’d sleep for twenty-four hours straight.

With a heavy sigh, I left my Jeep and rushed up the drive. The sound of Tanner’s car rumbling up the road encouraged me to dart faster uphill. Just as I topped the hill, I spotted Tanner, who cut his headlights and crept up beside me.

My stomach was a bundle of nerves. I hadn’t seen him, physically seen him, since the night he snuck over to my house. Tanner cut the engine and stepped out of the car. He froze, staring down at my body.

“I know I look horrible.” I reached up and removed my grandfather’s old hat from my head. “But you didn’t give me time to shower!”

“Horrible? You look like dessert.”

Heart in my throat, I allowed him to pull me in for a kiss. I threw my arms around his neck, dropping Papa’s hat to the ground while moaning in Tanner’s mouth. He tasted sweet, like sugar and honey. My hands found their way into his hair, tugging as our tongues explored.

Tanner’s hands cupped the swell of my ass. He squeezed and hoisted me up. My legs wrapped around his waist. I smirked against his mouth, rotating my hips slightly.

“Let me take a shower and then we’ll go somewhere,” I said against his warm lips. “I’ve been working in the garden all day. I probably stink.”

“You smell like sweat, coconuts, and summertime.” He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth before letting it go. “But we need to stop or I’ll never get you home in time for supper.”

I froze.

“What do you mean ‘home for supper’?”

“Melissa and Graham have invited you to supper.” He gave a thoughtless shrug, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “I told them okay. So here I am picking you up for supper.”

“You told them okay?” I punched him in the shoulder. “Without asking me first? I’m not going to your house.”

“Why not?”

I stomped up the driveway, but he followed, catching me within a few feet. He spun me around and held my flailing arms to my sides.

“Why not? I’m not having supper with my father’s killer!”

My heart thumped against my chest and tears sprang to my eyes. The audacity of Tanner to agree to me breaking bread with the man who quite possibly murdered my father was absurd.

His grip loosened. We met one another in an angry face-off. I would not back down. I loved this boy, but that didn’t mean I had to love his family.

“Get. In. The. Car,” Tanner whispered in a low, threatening tone. The vein on his left temple bulged. His jaw clenched, and his hands were drawn in such hard fists that his knuckles had turned white.

“No,” I whispered, mocking the sound of his voice, glaring back at him.

Spinning on my heel, I darted down the drive, my boots clacking against the pavement. Tanner grabbed me around the waist and dragged me, kicking and screaming, back to his car. He threw me across one shoulder and struggled to open the passenger door. I pounded my balled fists against his back, one of my cowboy boots flying off as I kicked him.

My actions were fruitless. As I pounded against his back, Tanner gave me a hard, angry slap on my rear. I yelped in shock, pain, and a strange, heated desire. The fact he could manhandle me while simultaneously turning me on was infuriating.

Tanner tossed me in the passenger seat as though I were weightless. I landed on the dark leather with a squeak and glared up at him. I wasn’t fearful, although I probably should’ve been. He wouldn’t hurt me. He was just bullheaded and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Why do you think Graham murdered your father?” he asked, towering over me with one hand on the car door and the other on the roof.

“Because … because that’s what I’ve always been told.”

“Told by who? Amos?” He scoffed, shaking his head in disappointment.

There wasn’t a chance to respond. Tanner grabbed my boot and hat from the ground. He tossed them both in my lap, slammed the door, and glared at me through the dark glass. It was a silent dare for me to attempt an escape. Huffing, I crossed my arms over my chest and turned my face to the front glass.

Tanner stalked around the Mustang and slid into the driver’s seat. He pulled the door behind him and turned the ignition. The car roared to life. After taking my hand and placing it on the gear shift beneath his, Tanner pulled off the side of the road and headed north toward Birchwood. I grumbled below my breath and shoved my foot back into the cowboy boot.

“What if everything you ever thought you knew was wrong?” Tanner asked, breaking the silence.

Gone was the angry, daring expression. His face was soft and lacked any smidgen of arrogance. Tanner cast me a solemn stare as he shifted gears with my hand still under his. The sound of the tires hitting the gray bridge, which separated our two worlds, rang in my ears.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “Who else would kill my father but Graham? It was revenge, revenge for my father killing yours.”

My words sounded weak even to me. Amos killed his father. I wanted to scream the truth, hearing the dishonesty in my own voice. Tanner frowned as the back tires left the bridge and studied my pinched face.

“Graham didn’t kill your father, Rue.” Tanner’s voice was low and steady. I stared at him in doubt. “Don’t you think he’d be rotting away in a Mississippi prison if he killed your father, if
any
Montgomery killed your father? Hell, Buck Bridges tried everything in his power to pin it on Graham. But Graham had an air-tight alibi. I’ll tell you one last time; my uncle didn’t murder your father.”

“If he didn’t kill my father, then who did?”

“I don’t know.” Our intertwined fingers shifted gears and Tanner guided the vehicle down a dark country road. “But I know someone who does. And he’s gonna tell us, or I’ll find out on my own. Even if it kills me. Because that’s the risk we take.”

Evening light waned in the distance and the green pine branches whirled by. “The risk we take for what?”

“For love, Rue.” He squeezed my fingers in his hand. “That’s the risk we take for love.”

The green branches of trees hanging overhead blurred past the speeding car as Tanner drove. Occasionally I’d spot the river to my right, peeking out through the pines and oaks.

We turned off the main road and onto a long gravel drive. There was nothing about the drive that stood out to the casual passerby. Like most countryside roads, it could be easily overlooked without searching for it.

Tanner gave my sweaty hand a comforting squeeze. I gave him a feeble squeeze in return. A lopsided grin tugged at one corner of his mouth, and then he stared doggedly ahead.

A large, two-story, lodge-style wooden house loomed in front of us. The home was a mixture of dark wood and rock with large windows gracing every section. The yellow glow of the lights inside gave a warm, comforting appeal. Just past the house was a break in the trees, and I spotted a glimpse of the muddy waters of the Tenn-Tom churning lazily in the distance.

The house had a massive wrap-around porch with dark wicker furniture nestled about. Flowerpots bursting with red and yellow blooms hung from the eaves. Giant burgundy vases of flowers lined each side of the porch steps.

Sitting with his arms splayed across a wicker couch was none other than Graham Montgomery. Although I hadn’t seen him in six years, Graham’s face was one I’d never forget. It was the face of my father’s killer.

Or so I had thought.

Tanner pulled near a garage to the right of the house, and I recognized Chance’s truck immediately. It was the same primer-gray truck he’d stood by the night of the party.

“I’d never intentionally put you in any danger. You know that, right?” Tanner tilted my chin to face him.

There was nothing but trust ringing in his voice. I nodded slowly, and he shot me a lazy, sexy grin.

Tanner opened his door, and I was thankful the car’s interior light didn’t switch on. The way Graham gazed at me through Tanner’s open door already made me feel like a fish in a fishbowl. Graham’s stare was neither angry nor frightening, but it was still completely penetrating and made my skin crawl in anticipation of the inevitable.

I wished I had my daddy’s handgun to protect myself. I’d been practicing my aim with it on the down-low while Lucy was hanging out with Olivia or her other friends. But that gun was currently stored on the top shelf of Daddy’s safe.

Tanner threaded his fingers through mine and tugged me slowly to the porch. The smell of steaks sizzling on a grill lingered in the humid air.

Graham appraised my rumpled clothes, dirty knees, and scuffed boots as I followed Tanner onto the porch. I tugged at my shirt, trying to pull out the wrinkles from bending over in the garden all day. I felt as though I were walking down the plank or standing in front of a firing squad.

Graham continued to be the distinguished, elegant man I remembered from the funeral parlor. He wore a crisp blue button-up shirt and tan slacks. The shiny hair and contemplative eyes were still there, however, his temples had turned slightly gray. There were fine lines at the corners of his mouth, yet those slight imperfections worked to his advantage, somehow giving him an even more refined appearance.

“Hello, Rue,” Graham said.

“Good evening, Mr. Montgomery.” I tilted my chin up a fraction. “I apologize for my state of attire. Tanner was anxious for me to meet his family and didn’t allow me enough time to properly clean up after working in the garden all day.”

“Well, Rue, I owe you an apology as well,” he said. “My nephew is nothing if not stubborn and impatient. I’m sorry for his rudeness by not allowing you to clean yourself up before supper. He obviously didn’t get his manners from his father’s side of the family.

“However,” he added, lighting a cigar and puffing at it several times, “I appreciate a hard-working girl. You’re the first of your kind in that regard to show up beside Tanner on our doorstep.”

“You’re the only girl I’ve ever brought home.” Tanner jerked his head in Graham’s direction. “Don’t listen to him. Know why his eyes are so brown? Because he’s full of it.”

Graham cracked his knuckles and smiled. “Tanner, why don’t you head out back and help Chance with the steaks while Rue and I get to know one another a little better? When Chance cooks steak I feel like I’m chewing on an old, busted tire. That boy can’t boil water. Why Melissa insists he man the grill is beyond me.”

Tanner nodded, much to my horror. He gave my temple a light kiss that did not escape Graham’s notice. He disappeared around the corner of the porch, leaving me alone with my family’s sworn enemy.

Graham gestured for me to sit in a chair close to his side. I opted for the chair farther away. Lowering myself in the red-cushioned wicker, I met his unwavering gaze with one of my own.

“You don’t bend under pressure, my dear.” He took one last puff of the cigar and crushed it into the ashtray perched on the table that separated us. “That’s impressive.”

“Of course I don’t. I am a Monroe, after all.”

Graham raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“That’s true.” He rubbed his chin. “You are a Monroe. Have you taken that into consideration at all in this thing you have with my nephew? The implications, that is. What will happen when your relatives find out about you and Tanner? Are you not concerned with your safety? Tanner’s?”

“Yes, I’m concerned,” I replied. “I tried to keep him away, for his safety more than my own, but he’s very … persistent.”

“Yes, Tanner is bullheaded.” Graham chuckled. “Especially when it comes to you. Do you remember meeting him at your father’s funeral?”

“Yes.”

Graham leaned back in the chair, tilting his head to the side. “Do you know what he told me after we left the church that day? When we got into my car?”

“No.”

“He said ‘Uncle Graham, I’m going to marry that Monroe girl some day.’” Graham laughed, stunning me with his words. “And I had no doubt even at his young age that he meant what he said. My nephew never says anything he doesn’t mean.”

I played with the hem of my shirt and stared down at my lap as Graham’s words sank in. It wasn’t until that precise moment that I grasped the extent of Tanner’s affection for me. I knew he cared for me. He’d told me as much by his actions. But to hear from his uncle, his pseudo-father, that he’d felt so strongly about me all those years was utterly overwhelming.

“Are you ready for that type of love?” Graham asked. “You must have at least a slight understanding of how intense Tanner is. That type of love is all-consuming. It knows no limits and no bounds. It is not shackled by the restraints of time. That type of love is everlasting. It’s also very dangerous.”

“Dangerous?”

“Yes, my dear,” he said with a slight confirming nod. “Dangerous. How much do you know about Tanner? About his life? His past? His present? His future?”

“Not much,” I admitted.

“I’m not surprised.” Graham crossed one leg over the other. “Now that he has you, he’s terrified of losing you. If you find out who he really is, maybe you’ll change your mind about being with him.”

“Never,” I responded. “I don’t care. I don’t care who he is or what he does. I’m in it for life.”

“And why’s that?” Graham asked.

Tanner rounded the corner. By his expression, he’d caught the end of our conversation. He stood behind Graham with his arms crossed over his fitted white shirt. He gave me that sideways grin that sent my heart speeding and the blood churning in my veins. There was only one answer to Graham’s question. Only one answer explained the consequences of both of our negligent actions.

“Because that’s the risk we take for love.”

Tanner’s crooked smile grew wider. Graham looked pleased with my response. I couldn’t figure him out. I despised the kind, welcoming way he treated me. I despised it because I desired nothing but to hate him. But there was no hate in my heart for the man sitting across from me. There was slight uncertainty and bewilderment, but no hate.

“You remind me of a girl I once knew,” Graham said with a grin. “Beautiful, smart, sassy, stubborn as all get out. She had it all.”

“What happened to her?”

“He better say he married her,” a soft yet strong feminine voice responded, “or he’ll be sleeping on the sofa for the next fifteen years.”

The sound of the voice brought me to my feet. Standing in the doorway of the house was a beautiful woman in her early forties. Her hair glowed under the yellow porch lights, falling just past her shoulders in thick, soft waves, brushing across the fabric of a fitted, coral dress. She was petite with gentle curves and a round, delicate face. Her eyes were hazel and reminded me of my mother’s, except this woman’s eyes shone with kindness and understanding, whereas my mother’s were always vengeful and angry. She smiled lovingly as she approached me.

“Hello, Rue,” she said in a friendly voice with a polite grin. “I’ve been waiting to meet you for quite a while. I’m Tanner’s aunt, Melissa.”

Melissa offered her hand and I took it. It was soft and smooth, and I cringed as I pulled my dirty one away. She didn’t seem to care about my lack of personal hygiene. She simply beamed at me as though we were lifelong friends.

The woman’s sweet demeanor pricked my heart, casting some sort of strange spell over me. Before I knew it, I was profusely apologizing for my disheveled appearance. She grinned and waved at my rambling in an unconcerned manner.

“It’s all right, dear. I hope Graham hasn’t been giving you a hard time out here.” Melissa quirked an eyebrow at her husband.

Graham looked a bit sheepish under her gaze. The expression on his face, as she huffed at her husband, caused a knot of acknowledgment to form in my throat. It was the same way Tanner looked at me: wicked bemusement intertwined with love.

“Y’all come on in before these mosquitoes carry you off,” Melissa said.

As we stepped inside, I was hit with a sense of calmness and warmth. It felt like a soft quilt wrapped around my cold body or Nana’s hands calming me in my youth after an awkward fall. It almost, but not quite, wiped away the tension radiating around me caused by being in Graham’s presence.

The living room was large and decorated in chocolate brown, hunter green, and a deep crimson. Native American-style quilts and rugs were scattered around the room. There was a huge rock fireplace against the far wall with a mantle displaying family photographs. Soft brown leather furniture surrounded a large, low-sitting wooden table in the center of the room. Oil paintings of rickety gray barns, rolling green pastures, and muddy, brown rivers hung along the walls.

My senses were assaulted with the unmistakable smell of a cake baking in the oven. The baker within me told me the cake was almost done. I twisted my fingers in my hands as Melissa pointed at various objects in the den and talked animatedly.

Tanner, Graham, and I stood behind her. She showed me the antique furniture she’d collected over the years and a large shadowbox holding dozens of arrowheads Graham had found scattered about their property. An intimidating elk head mount stared down at us from its home over the fireplace. I finally built up the nerve to interrupt her as she led me to her depression-era glass.

“Mrs. Montgomery, I think your cake is ready.”

Melissa gave a quiet yelp of realization. She darted to the kitchen with her curls bouncing against her shoulders. After grabbing a pair of oven mitts, she flung open the oven door and snatched out a bundt cake. Graham and Tanner chuckled by my side. Melissa cursed lowly, tossing the hot cake onto a cooling rack.

“She always forgets to set the timer,” Tanner said.

“Well, look-a here,” a voice drawled. “A Monroe in the Montgomery house. Hell musta frozen over.”

Chance Hayes strolled into the living room from the back porch with a grin stretched across his face and a large platter stacked with steaks in his hands. He wore a pair of loose, tan shorts ending below his knees and brown, leather flip-flops. A blue V-neck tee emphasized his shining blue eyes and shaggy blond hair.

I frowned at him, remembering the train station and his cocky grin as he and Drew Kingsley had goaded me. It occurred to me I’d never seen Chance up close and personal without darkness surrounding us. Lean muscles rippled and protested from under the tight shirt. An angry scar marred the surface of his left bicep. There was a slight limp to his gait and I wondered what happened to him.

“Rue, why don’t I get you some clothes and let you take a shower before supper?” Melissa said. “My clothes may be a little big on you, but I’m sure you’d be more comfortable after a shower.”

“That’s very nice of you, Mrs. Montgomery.”

“Call me Melissa. I’ll grab some clothes and let Tanner escort you to his bathroom upstairs.” She left the kitchen and returned with a clean pair of jeans, a shirt, and a pair of socks.

Tanner escorted me, hand in hand, up a large staircase. We entered a long hallway, and he pushed open a nearby door, pulling me into a bedroom.

A large bed covered in a midnight blue comforter with matching thick, fluffy pillows sat against the wall to my left. The other walls held shelves of albums and books. I ran my fingers across the bindings of the books, several of the titles and authors familiar. Tanner’s antique record collection was quite impressive, and I was pleased he seemed to have the same love of classic country music I had.