Dirty South Drug Wars (6 page)

“This is the good stuff, man.” Olivia blew smoke rings in the air.

Josie and Lucy murmured in approval. I leaned back on the floor against the couch and relished the wonderful feeling of falling backward even though I was completely stationary. The familiar sensation of my blood buzzing through my veins took over my body, and I smiled at the calmness that surrounded me.

Josie was right; after about an hour of Lucy’s constant ramblings and manis and pedis, Lucy and Olivia passed out on the floor. Drool dripped from Lucy’s upturned lips and pooled under her mouth. I crawled over to where she lay and checked her pulse. Yup. She was still alive. I fell over on the floor next to my snoring sister and laughed while Josie chuckled and shook her head.

“Come on, you dirty slut.” Josie pulled me to a sitting position. “It’s time to party, Mandy.”

She escorted me upstairs, dug through my closet, and tossed various items over her shoulder onto my messy bed. I was uncaring about what I wore, too fixated on my buzz to give a crap even though I usually enjoyed dressing up and looking girly. I never left the house without makeup on, something I inherited from Nana Monroe. Hell, everyone stared at us all the time anyway. As much as I hated the stares, I figured I might as well give them something nice to look at.

I yanked on some skin-tight black pants, a sleeveless black shirt with ruffles down the front, and a pair of knee-high black boots too hot for the weather outside, but too cute not to wear. I pulled a belt on above my waist, just below my boobs. The mirror threw back my reflection and I grinned at the hot girl who stared back.

Josie dug around inside an overflowing, monogrammed bag and removed two wigs. After tucking away my hair, I quickly threw on some makeup. Josie assured me I looked great, and we walked right out the front door. Lucy and Liv were passed out on the living room floor, their saw-like snores cutting through the night air.

As Josie’s truck topped the bridge separating Mayhaw and Birchwood, she grasped my hand. The lights from the barges were glowing softly below. Suddenly I felt free; it was a dangerous, foreign, yet addictive feeling, sort of like the first time I’d smoked weed. It was a feeling I could only get when I’d done something bad, dangerous, but utterly satisfying at the same time.

As we crossed that bridge, something deep within me told me everything was about to change and nothing would ever be the same again.

The navigation in Josie’s ostentatious truck spoke to us in a feminine, robotic voice, instructing which roads to take to our destination. I stared through the windows, excited for the brief glimpses of Birchwood. After all these years of wondering what it looked like, I was surprised to find it wasn’t so different from Mayhaw.

We sped through the unfamiliar town and hit an access road that ran alongside the river. Josie and I exchanged nervous smiles, following the navigation down several winding side roads. Each house near the river grew bigger and bigger the farther we drove. We pulled down a meandering driveway in the middle of nowhere, which was surrounded by trees and drunk teenagers stumbling around. A massive red brick house with white columns stood on a tall hill, the river serving as a backdrop.

Josie backed up and parked her truck on the side of the road far enough from the house that we wouldn’t be blocked in. Apprehension seeped into my system. I peered through the window at the unfamiliar faces of the kids gathered on the lawn. I fingered the synthetic strands of the blonde wig, wondering if it was enough to hide my true identity. If not, would it get back to the Montgomerys? To my family?

Josie cut the engine and shot me a reassuring smile. “Just pretend like it’s any other party we’ve been to, okay?”

“Okay.”

We walked arm in arm down the long driveway and grinned at the appreciative whistles and smiles of males we passed along the way. Their ogling helped alleviate my worries a bit. By the time I made it inside the mansion, I was in my element as Mandy.

Inside the fancy house was a throng of sweaty teenage bodies. Kids danced provocatively against one another amidst the thick, swirling fog of cigarette and weed smoke. “Outlaw Women” boomed from the speakers, the beat of the music shaking the walls and causing several oil paintings to vibrate and hang unevenly.

Our weed buzz began to waver, so Josie went in search of a new distraction.

“Will you be okay alone for a while?” Josie had already spotted her special someone for the night and was in full abandonment mode. I nodded, and she said, “Good. I’m gonna go get me some head.”

I burst into laughter and shook my head in mirth. Josie strolled over to a keg, leaving me behind. She laughed and giggled as a guy poured her a drink in a red Solo cup. He seemed enthralled, watching her flip her fake hair. She shot me a secret grin before she and the guy disappeared.

Shaking my head in amusement, I hoisted myself up on the bar that overlooked the massive living room. Behind me sat multi-colored gelatin shots: red, green, purple, blue, and orange.

I slammed a couple of the shots, humming at the candy-like taste of sugar and vodka. Once finished, I crumbled the tiny plastic cups and tossed them in the direction of an open garbage can.

The crowd thickened as the night wore on. I swayed on the bar, comfortable in my solitude, scanning the room and unintentionally catching the eye of several guys. A couple brave ones approached and asked for a dance, but I politely turned them down and promised them one later. It was a lie. The alcohol and weed put me in my own zone and I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I was content sitting and people-watching.

The mood shifted, and at first I thought it was from the new beat that flowed from the speakers or possibly the change in lighting, making the room almost completely dark. The only lights in the room were from the flashing strobe that had been propped up in one corner of the room.

But the strange shift in mood had nothing to do with the music or the lighting. It had everything to do with the three guys who walked into the living room from outside. Kids stopped dancing as the three of them cut through the room. Some of the boys did that stupid fist bumping thing, while others stared at them in awe.

Those three guys … they were
somebody
, at least to the people in that room. They each walked with a swagger only someone confident in their own skin could possess. The first two held cocky grins on their faces, weaving through the party and bypassing a horde of girls who practically drooled in their presence.

They made their way to a couch near one wall. The occupants of the couch stared up at them in wide-eyed wonder before hopping up and darting off. One of the guys sat down on the couch with a small, lopsided grin on his face as he spoke to a babbling blonde who stood nearby. The swarm of dancing bodies blocked my view of him from time to time, but I couldn’t drop my gaze from him for very long.

He was too pretty, with a mop of midnight-colored hair and the butterscotch brown of a summer tan. His lips were curved in a sexy grin. Ink ran up his right, inner forearm, but he was too far away for me to tell what the scroll read. The fact that he had ink caused me to ponder his age, though it shouldn’t. My body held ink as well and had since I’d turned seventeen.

The guy was sexy as hell wearing a tight black tee with the words “Mama Tried” written in white and a pair of dark jeans and boots. The shirt held the title one of my favorite Merle Haggard songs, but his clothes instantly reminded me of Johnny Cash, not that he looked anything like him. No, this guy was far too beautiful. He reminded me of Cash because of his “man in black” attire.

Feeling like a total stalker, I dropped my attention from the stranger, reached behind me, and grabbed another Jell-O shot. A strange, yet hauntingly familiar prickling sensation crept up the back of my arms like spider legs. Goose bumps quickly shot across my flesh.

Trying to shake the weird feeling, I brought the cup to my mouth, cocking an eyebrow as a random guy popped up in front of me. Practically planting himself between my legs, he gave me a lazy grin and sipped his beer.

He introduced himself with a name I forgot as soon as he spoke it, and I internally groaned as he ogled my breasts. The guy looked like a complete tool in his baby-blue polo shirt, jeans, and with his hair too long, too shaggy, hanging over his forehead like an English Sheepdog.

With the plastic shot cup pressed against my lips, I stared over his shoulder in boredom. My body grew rigid when I met the even gaze of the guy across the room. Cash. The plastic cup froze, still pressed against my lips. The strange prickling sensation coursed through my body in overdrive.

The guy in front of me began to ramble, unaware of the uneven strum of my heart inside my chest, his words never taking residence inside my head. Across the room, Cash licked his lips, causing me to swallow dryly. A slight smile twisted on one corner of his mouth. A slinky redhead walked up to him and briefly blocked my view, extinguishing our connection. She eased down on the couch beside him and pressed her body against his tall, lanky frame.

Of
course
he had a girlfriend. Why wouldn’t he? Cash was the epitome of a sexy, Southern, good ole boy. And he was obviously attached, yet didn’t mind shooting me a smooth grin across the room. I scowled at my attraction to an apparent playboy.

Rambling guy continued to talk, his words slightly slurred from the booze. For the first time since he planted himself in front of me, I gave him a good look. Sure, he wasn’t the type of guy I normally went for, but was that really so bad?

Maybe I should take Nana’s advice, not to get laid, but to stop being so uptight.

Making a hasty decision, I slipped my tongue inside the shallow plastic cup, twisting it in my hand and loosening the Jell-O. The guy stared, slack-jawed, as I sucked the shot down my throat and crushed the cup in my fist.

“Damn, girl. That’s so hot,” he said.

Across the room, Cash stood, removing his arm from the redhead as he began walking. His tall body twisted and turned, avoiding the dancing teenagers, a murderous scowl on his face.

Did this guy think one sexy grin was his way of laying some sort of claim on me?

That thought alone pissed me off.

“Hey, let me pop your collar.” I reached out and popped the collar of his über-preppy polo shirt.

Cash grew closer, his body creeping into my vision. I denied myself the privilege of looking up at the handsome boy. Instead, I focused on the lusty face of the guy now touching my thighs as Cash rounded the bar and passed me by without a second glance. He left a hint of spicy cologne in his wake. Out of my peripheral, I saw him grab a red cup and head to the keg behind me.

Cash’s proximity was overwhelming. My body crawled, my blood churned in my veins, and my stomach clenched in nervousness. I’d never felt this way before, and it was terrifying. All I wanted was to get away.

All thoughts of seducing the more than willing stranger in front of me flew from my mind. I slid down from the bar, cringing as the wrong guy’s erection brushed against my thigh. A muttered, feeble excuse for fresh air left my mouth, and I darted across the room, hurrying through an open door leading outside.

My feet hit a large, wooden deck. The river that separated Birchwood from Mayhaw stood a good distance away near the woods. A few strangers laughed and lounged outside, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. No one noticed me as I eased by them, hiding my face with my long wig. I jogged down the wooden walkway leading to the grass below. When I reached the grass I slowed down, noticing a pier ahead of me jutting out into the river.

Once my boots touched the pier, I gazed up at the huge, white, full moon shadowed only by its own deep valleys and crevices. It hung surprisingly low in the sky and seemed to dip down toward the Earth’s surface. The sky was the color of ink and peppered with white, twinkling stars.

I lay back on the pier and let my blonde wig spill out around me. Closing my eyes, I lost myself in the sound of water lapping against the shore, the crickets singing, and the frogs croaking their song of the South. Calmness overtook me, and I opened my eyes, searching the patterns of stars for my favorite constellations.

Heavy boots caused the wooden boards of the pier to creak and groan. I was instantly aware of him. I tried to ignore the warm current that flowed through my veins and the tiny sense of panic of the unknown. After a deep, soothing breath, I disregarded the effect of this stranger and stared into the night sky. His dark boots arrived nearby, and I avoided his face that hovered above me, right next to the moon. An unfathomable amount of time passed before he sat down beside me.

From the corner of my eye I watched as he lay back, his face only inches from mine and eyes fixed on the sky. It took all my strength to fight the urge to stare at him, for he really was the most beautiful guy I’d ever seen. I turned my attention back to the sky to avoid being caught.

We said nothing for a long time. We simply stared at the stars as they flashed in the inky blackness. He eventually turned to me, and my breath caught in my throat as I reached for a lock of hair to twirl around my finger. It was me who broke the silence.

“I was looking for Orion,” I said, taking a deep, shaky breath, “but I forgot he’s not allowed in the night sky until winter.”

I regretted my words as soon as they left my lips, expecting him to run from the geek hiding behind tight clothes and bold makeup.

“Orion? Is that a constellation?” he asked, his voice sweet and soft.

It had a warm thickness to it, like molasses, and he sounded genuinely interested in my response. I swallowed hard and nodded.

“Why is it not allowed in the sky?”

His voice was tinged with curiosity as he turned back toward the stars. My body slumped in relief when he was no longer studying me.

“Because the scorpion is in the sky. See? There he is.” I pointed at the constellation above.

He followed the direction in which my finger pointed and looked at the sky closely.

“They’re not allowed in the sky together, so Scorpius shows himself in the summer and Orion shines in the winter.”

“Why can’t the two constellations share the sky?” he asked, his face drawn in confusion.

“Um, well …” His spicy scent washed over me, and I filled my lungs with the smell, memorizing it. “There’re different versions of the story, but I’ll tell you my favorite if you’re really interested.”

He nodded slowly, eyes on my face before they turned back to the heavens above.

“Orion was a great hunter who spent the majority of his time avoiding people. He was somewhat nocturnal, hunting and fishing at night and resting during the day. One of those nights the moon goddess, Artemis, spied him down below as she flew across the night sky.

“She wanted to leave the sky and tell Orion she’d fallen in love with him, but she was a goddess and Orion was a mortal. If Zeus, her father, found out her secret affections, he would kill them both.

“One night, Artemis decided she couldn’t hide her feelings for him anymore. She began sneaking out of the sky to hunt with him night after night. Orion fell in love with her as well.

“Zeus somehow found out about his daughter’s reckless behavior and hatched a plan to end the affair. He commanded a giant scorpion to drop down on the land where Orion slept. Orion awoke and began fighting the scorpion, but the scorpion killed him.”

“What happened next?” he asked.

“Artemis arrived just after it happened, finding her lover dead. She grabbed the scorpion in a rage and flung him high into the heavens where he became the constellation Scorpius. Artemis carried Orion to the heavens, opposite of the scorpion that assassinated him so they’d never have to share the same night sky.”