possible moment.
"I'd be no better than him," she muttered, crossing her arms again and sitting on the closed toilet. It was then that he remembered how to breathe properly again, and he exhaled as he leaned against the doorframe.
"But you can do better than him," Red told her. He didn't mean him . It could have been anyone—at this point, anyone was better than Dan. Though, deep down, he would have liked her to choose him. "You're always better than him, Missy. Don't you forget that. You could have anyone you wanted—"
"No, I can't," she snapped, her voice taking on the tremor it had when he'd first arrived. "I can't be with anyone else… He's told me what'll happen if I leave him. He said he'd…" She trailed off and licked her lips, her gaze distant. "It won't be pretty."
In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to grab a knife from the kitchen and shove it into Dan's throat. He was basically keeping Missy hostage at this point—and it was horrifying to know the hold that monster had on her. Right now, Red could guarantee that Dan was in one of two places: the bar or with a hooker. If he wasn't with Missy or at a gang meeting—and he knew for a fact there were no meetings tonight—booze and sex were the only things that could get Dan out of the house.
"Missy…" He moved toward her, ready to kneel in front of her and take her delicate hands in his, but she was already on her feet and darting around him. Without a word, she left the bathroom, and Red followed, sensing he wasn't going to get much more out of her tonight.
"I'll tell Dan you stopped by," she told him as she hovered by the front door, waiting. "Thanks for… for listening."
He stood in front of her squarely, her head stopping a few inches below his. Tall and willowy, she could be a dancer in another life.
"You got my number," he grunted. "Things ever get out of hand again—" With Dan, they definitely would. "—you just text me and I'll swing by. Real casual. I can pretend I'm coming here to see him."
"But you hate him," she whispered, which made his chest feel tight. He hated Dan probably as much as Missy did at this point. "I won't put you through that."
"You won't be making me do anything." Red grasped her by the chin and raised her head, forcing her to meet his eye. "I'm willingly pledging myself as a volunteer right here and now. I mean it. You text me the second you need someone to step in. I'll be here in five minutes."
Breaking every speed limit in town, too.
Her eyes shimmered with tears, but none fell. When Red retracted his hand, she stepped away and opened the door.
"Thanks for stopping by, Red," she said as he stepped onto the porch. They faced each other briefly, and he scratched the back of his neck.
"Have a good night, Missy Mae."
"You too."
With that, she shut the door, leaving him alone beneath the flickering porch late, shaking with rage.
All the while knowing that, for now, there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
Chapter 3
When Red first joined the DBD gang, bonfire nights in the woods had been one of his favorite pastimes. He loved everybody getting together in the great outdoors, far from the curious eyes of outsiders and cops. It was a time to drink good beer, roast a couple marshmallows, strum some hippy guitar, and just hang out with the members of the gang. Out there, amongst the pines and spruces, it was like everyone was equal, inner and outer circles alike.
Well, almost equal. No one trumped Dan—and he made sure everyone knew it.
The years had changed Red's attitude toward woodland bonfires, though Dan remained the same. The guy made it his business to be involved in everyone else's good time. He was always the loudest, crudest drunk. He encouraged fights, usually participating—and always winning—at least one or two. Tonight was no different. Almost all of the hundred gang members had come down for a
"I'd be no better than him," she muttered, crossing her arms again and sitting on the closed toilet. It was then that he remembered how to breathe properly again, and he exhaled as he leaned against the doorframe.
"But you can do better than him," Red told her. He didn't mean him . It could have been anyone—at this point, anyone was better than Dan. Though, deep down, he would have liked her to choose him. "You're always better than him, Missy. Don't you forget that. You could have anyone you wanted—"
"No, I can't," she snapped, her voice taking on the tremor it had when he'd first arrived. "I can't be with anyone else… He's told me what'll happen if I leave him. He said he'd…" She trailed off and licked her lips, her gaze distant. "It won't be pretty."
In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to grab a knife from the kitchen and shove it into Dan's throat. He was basically keeping Missy hostage at this point—and it was horrifying to know the hold that monster had on her. Right now, Red could guarantee that Dan was in one of two places: the bar or with a hooker. If he wasn't with Missy or at a gang meeting—and he knew for a fact there were no meetings tonight—booze and sex were the only things that could get Dan out of the house.
"Missy…" He moved toward her, ready to kneel in front of her and take her delicate hands in his, but she was already on her feet and darting around him. Without a word, she left the bathroom, and Red followed, sensing he wasn't going to get much more out of her tonight.
"I'll tell Dan you stopped by," she told him as she hovered by the front door, waiting. "Thanks for… for listening."
He stood in front of her squarely, her head stopping a few inches below his. Tall and willowy, she could be a dancer in another life.
"You got my number," he grunted. "Things ever get out of hand again—" With Dan, they definitely would. "—you just text me and I'll swing by. Real casual. I can pretend I'm coming here to see him."
"But you hate him," she whispered, which made his chest feel tight. He hated Dan probably as much as Missy did at this point. "I won't put you through that."
"You won't be making me do anything." Red grasped her by the chin and raised her head, forcing her to meet his eye. "I'm willingly pledging myself as a volunteer right here and now. I mean it. You text me the second you need someone to step in. I'll be here in five minutes."
Breaking every speed limit in town, too.
Her eyes shimmered with tears, but none fell. When Red retracted his hand, she stepped away and opened the door.
"Thanks for stopping by, Red," she said as he stepped onto the porch. They faced each other briefly, and he scratched the back of his neck.
"Have a good night, Missy Mae."
"You too."
With that, she shut the door, leaving him alone beneath the flickering porch late, shaking with rage.
All the while knowing that, for now, there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
Chapter 3
When Red first joined the DBD gang, bonfire nights in the woods had been one of his favorite pastimes. He loved everybody getting together in the great outdoors, far from the curious eyes of outsiders and cops. It was a time to drink good beer, roast a couple marshmallows, strum some hippy guitar, and just hang out with the members of the gang. Out there, amongst the pines and spruces, it was like everyone was equal, inner and outer circles alike.
Well, almost equal. No one trumped Dan—and he made sure everyone knew it.
The years had changed Red's attitude toward woodland bonfires, though Dan remained the same. The guy made it his business to be involved in everyone else's good time. He was always the loudest, crudest drunk. He encouraged fights, usually participating—and always winning—at least one or two. Tonight was no different. Almost all of the hundred gang members had come down for a
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