Dirty Shame (Bluefield Bad Boys #1) Read Free Page A

underground corridor used to transport coal to the surface. Float dust, tiny particles of coal, circulated through the air like microscopic bugs as I made my way to the underground station, a series of subterranean rooms set aside for lunch break, first aid, storing equipment and charging batteries.
    Two headlights shifted side to side as a truck crawled toward me. I raised my hand to block out the blinding glare and saw it was Jason Meade’s vehicle. Like Dawson, I’d gone to school with Jason. But he was no friend. Being the son of one of the owners of Bluefield Mine, Jason had slipped conveniently into a managerial position. Since he hadn’t actually earned the position, the crew liked to call him Honorary Boss when he was out of earshot, or, when pissed at him, to his face. It usually made his nostrils flare wide like a raging bull.
    The light on my hard hat and the long reflective strips on my coveralls glowed back at the truck, but it continued rolling toward me. I waved to let them know I was on the path, but the asshole seemed to be playing a lopsided game of chicken with me. It didn’t take too much common sense to know that the half ton truck would win the game.
    I pressed close against the wall. Loose debris sloughed off as my shoulder skimmed the wall. The fucker was obviously in a shitty mood, and if there was one person Jason hated, it was me.
    The truck had no side-view mirrors, making it more streamlined for narrow passages. It was just an inch from the same wall I walked along. I hurried my pace to the first man hole, a crevice dug into the wall so a worker could safely duck out of the path of the hauling vehicles. But this was no hauler, this was just one pig-faced, spoiled asshole getting his kicks for the day. Jason Meade, or Mean Meade, his well deserved high school nickname, had had it out for me since I’d defended a kid from his bullying back in high school. I’d laid Jason flat out on the hallway floor, an incident that had nearly gotten me expelled. Jason’s just as mean father had taken out his wrath on my dad by demoting him from hauler to the menial task of scaling debris from the mine walls, a job that’d ended up collapsing his already damaged lungs.
    I slipped into the crevice just as the truck reached me. I could see two heads in the cab. Meade never went anywhere without his thickheaded yes man, Sean Gilly.
    I waited in the crevice for the truck to roll past. Instead it stopped, wedging me tightly between the rock wall of the manhole and the passenger side of the pickup. After crawling on my hands and knees with tons of earth above my head all morning, the last place I wanted to be was wedged into the tight pocket of rock.
    The window rolled down and Gilly’s goofball smirk landed in the spotlight produced by my helmet. Meade held his hand up to block the light as he leaned forward. “Dim that light, bolt boy. Can’t see you hovering in the crack. You look just like a fucking lizard hiding in the rocks.” Meade always had a good time laughing at his own jokes.
    I reached up and dimmed the light on my helmet. The diesel smell of the truck was quickly filling the fissure. “Just heading to lunch, boss ,” I said the word with enough emphasis to assure him that I thought of him as anything but a boss. “What do you want?”
    Meade had a wide forehead with close set eyes that made him look just about as dumb as a person could look. His lips flattened to his infamous Meade grin. “How do you know I needed something, Kelly boy? Maybe you were just in my way.”
    In high school, Meade had decided it was much more fun to call me Kelly than my real name Kellan. I let him because I didn’t really care what came out of his mouth.
    He laughed again and chucked Gilly on the shoulder. “Told you he’d get antsy like a little girl if he was stuck in a refuge hole.” He lowered his fat face to get a better look at me. “You’re the only guy down here who gets wormy about being in a