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

confined space. Kind of hilarious, since you’re, no doubt, bound for an early grave. It also proves that you have no right to wear a miner’s cap. You should be out shoveling manure on a dairy farm or something,  just you and all the fresh air and shit you need.”
    I was hungry and my back was aching. Boss or not, I was done with him. “Seems like I’m already surrounded by a lot of shit just standing here.” Like any true born asshole, Meade only got a kick out of jokes when he was handing them out.
    “You fucking lowlife, Trog. I could have you kicked out of this mine with one phone call. Then you’d have to beg in the streets to feed that crazy mom of yours. How’s she doing, anyhow? Heard she’s getting old and forgetful already.”
    I stared at him and wondered briefly how easily I could just kill the fucker and drag his body through the shaft to the area that was slated for backfill.
    “I guess we better let you take your lunch break, so you can get back on your hands and knees again, bolt boy.” The truck moved an inch. I was ready to jump from the manhole when it stopped again. “By the way, figured you probably hadn’t heard this down below the tracks, but Rylan is moving back home.”
    He’d been working to get a rise out of me by insulting my mom and reminding me that he had the power to fire me, but his last statement was the one that knocked the breath from me. And because I was never good at hiding the way I felt about Rylan, Meade picked up on it right away.
    “She’s left that fancy Wall Street fiancé of hers, and she’s coming back to stay with her parents. Not that it should matter to you because you’re going to keep your fucking distance from her.” He exchanged a smirking wink with Gilly. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want a repeat of that ugly little scene from graduation night. Trogs stay below the tracks, and Highlanders stay above. That hasn’t changed even if we’ve been out of school for seven years. Got that, Trog ?”
    His stupid-ass warnings were barely registering past the idea that Rylan was coming home. Suddenly, all I could think about was that stubborn little curl on the side of her bangs that she was constantly tugging at to tame, or the way she would put on lipstick or the way she would peel an orange. And that glimmer of a smile that she always flashed to get whatever the hell she wanted from anyone. It was like her secret weapon that was anything but secret.
    “Hey, Trog, you listening?” I focused back on the two pillowy faces staring at me from the truck. Everyone else underground was covered head to toe with black coal dust, but Meade always managed to look fresh and pink like a newborn baby’s ass. During my grandfather’s generation, the kids on the north side of town came up with the label of Trog for the kids living on the south end of town, where most of the men worked down in the mine. At the same time, they’d labeled themselves Highlanders, a completely misplaced label if there ever was one.
    “Yeah, I’m listening. You just can’t let go of those glory days at Bluefield High, can ya?” The news that Rylan was coming back had stirred me plenty, but I forced a stone face. “If we’re done here, I need to get to the station. Unless you want me to piss on the side of your truck, which would be fine with me.”
    He grumbled something to Gilly. The truck inched forward and stopped. Gilly pushed open his door just enough to shove the edge of the door hard against me. I heard glass crack and the light on my cap went out. The door edge jammed into my chest and forced me against the back of the crevice.
    “You’ve been warned, Trog. Now get to the station and pick up another light, or I’ll cite you for a safety violation.”
    Gilly pulled the door shut, and the truck rumbled down the passage. I stepped out of the hole and was faced with complete darkness. Most of the men were on break, and the haulage way was deserted and void of any light. I