All is Lost (All Series, Book 2) (29 page)

Sleepy fluttering lashes open slowly,
revealing dark blue eyes and my heart compresses hard, feeling the
stab of loss once again.

She isn’t Waverly

A husky, angry male voice resonates through
the otherwise quiet barn, and I notice her body tenses while panic
streaks across her face.

She lifts her head off my arm. “Ohgod,” She
breathes quietly, with a heavy southern drawl.

Quickly jumping up she exposes her almost bare
ass, covered by the tiniest lace material, as she scrambles up
gathering her scattered clothing. She snatches them on at warp
speeds before glancing down at me. Following her lead I stand, but
a tad bit slower than her since I'm suffering with another massive
ass hangover. Hearing the repeated booming yell, this time coming
from inside the barn, I suppress the need to curse
loudly.

Shit, what have I done
now?

Flashes of last night’s escapades begin
assaulting my mind.

Candy drove us to a hillbilly hangout on the
outskirts of this one red light, heart of the bible-belt, town
where we immersed out minds, bodies and souls deeply into our
surroundings. Quickly making our way through a full bottle of Jose
Quervo we danced, shot pool and entered a casual game of darts. I
held back my expert marksmanship on the poor girl. It would be a
completely unfair advantage if I played up to par, since I am the
ultimate dart enthusiast. Still, we swept the floor with Buddy
Wayne and Jeffrey Bob's asses in all five rounds.

As the night progressed, dozens of luscious
cowgirls began strolling through the front doors, filling up the
seats surrounding the stage and dance floor. According to Jeffrey
Bob, the local hot band was playing tonight and the all male,
five-member band gets all the girls panties wet with their first
song. Due to the high volume of tequila, a roguish thought slipped
easily into my brain and after the first song began–that was less
than in tune–I couldn't contain my excitement. I found my way onto
the stage, staring into the shocked faces of the band
mates.

Cheering from the highly intoxicated crowd
encouraged my misbehaving and I commandeered the microphone from
the guitarist’s stand, challenging the lead singer to a sing off.
That dumbass didn't know that I come with a ten year musical
background. Beating him senseless in his own backyard, I felt
triumph as he pouted and stomped away after the crowd voted me the
favorite with numerous catcalls and a couple dozen pairs of panties
tossed at my feet.

After a round of high-fives, fist pounds and
one painful chest bump from a mammoth size man, the remaining band
members invited me backstage for a celebratory drink. They confided
that the singer was a stick-up-the-ass and had already left the bar
to go cry on his momma’s shoulder. They were a fun bunch and
bragged on my abilities until they convinced me to finish out the
final set in his place. Blasting out some old school rock along
with some requested current country hits we brought the place down
just after two in the morning. Scanning the crowd for a glimpse of
the girl I came with, I was approached by the hottest little honey
of the night. She promised a night of bliss unlike anything I'd
ever experienced and really, who am I kidding, I need a good
fuck.

Looking at her now, I realize I can't even
remember fucking her at all. Everything else is crystal clear now
that the haze of morning brain has receded, but I don't even
remember kissing her after we pulled out of the taverns parking
lot.

“
Morgan, that's my ex. Justice.”
The long legged beauty says.

Swallowing down my apprehension, I'm not sure
if I want to hang around and meet a man named Justice that bellows
like his insides are kindling to a blazing inferno. Proving my
thoughts are pretty damn smart, the next yell from him rattles the
window next to me. Turning to me, the babe quickly wraps her long,
slender fingers around my wrist, dragging me toward the center of
the barn. Putting on the brakes quickly, I jerk her body around
violently and begin dramatically shaking my head a big, fat-ass
negative on me meeting her highly pissed off ex
boyfriend.

“
No, ma'am,” I say. “I believe that
I will let you and him work this out on your own. No need in
bringing me into your little lovers spat.” I inform her seriously.
Narrowing her eyes at me, she folders her arms across her perky
tits and a full on smile blasts across her flawless
face.

“
Darlin' you're already smack-dab
in the middle of it seeing as how you stole his thunder last night
and took his woman to bed, well, to the barn.” She teases, snaking
a hand up my arm and squeezing my bicep tightly.

“
What?”

You've got to be fucking kidding
me. From shit, to completely shitter in no time flat. Will I ever
learn?

After mentally chiding myself, I swat away her
hand and lead the way toward the front of the barn where last
night’s archenemy lays in wait for me.

Oh boy this is going to be fun. My
poor head is really going to love me after getting pounded into the
dirt floor, on top of the current mind numbing ache.

Seeing the douche menacingly storm up to the
girl, I take a backseat to see just how broken up they really
are.

“
Paulette,” He growls loudly at the
babe. “What in the hell are you doing with this dick-wad?” He
glances between us then grunts. “Sonuvabitch, you didn't actually
sleep with his uppity ass right here in the barn in front of gawd
and everybody? What the hell is wrong with everyone is this
shit-stained town?” Justice continues barking like a rabid dog,
causing my head throbbing to intensify even more.

Honestly, I don't give one shit what he thinks
about me, but if we're going to fight I'd rather go ahead and get
that part out of the way so they can carry on with their
domestic-hell and leave me the fuck alone.

“
Hey Jim Bobby,” I start. “If
you've got a problem with me say it to my face, and stop yelling it
in hers.” I spout, giving him the same amount of respect he gives
his lady.

“
Mother fucker,” He bellows,
pushing away from the girl. “My damn name ain't Jim Bobby. It is
Justice. And me, and my Babydoll need to get a few things straight
before I beat the living hell out of your sorry ass and I serve it
up on a biscuit to ya momma.” He laughs alone.

He seriously thinks that he's some sort of
comedian, amused at his lame ass joke and telling me how he plans
on beating my ass. I am from the south too, but I'll be damn if I
understand the whole, weird reference to the biscuit and my
mother.

“
What the fuck ever dude. Bring
it.” I counter. Clenching my fists tightly, I wait for his first
strike.

Justice isn't as tall as my six feet, two
inches, but he's clearly a muscle head, or he dresses like one at
least, wearing a black tank-top with dark washed jeans and his
ratty, old, cowboy boots. I imagine this is his standard workout
wear so he can impress all the ladies down at the local
gym.

With catlike moves, Justice rushes toward me,
but the toe of his boot catches on an object hidden under the hay.
He falls, stumbling straight into my fist. With a little upward
momentum, I nail him straight on the nose. Dropping like dead
weight, he falls hard on his knees, before gravity drags the rest
of him down. Stunned by my second knockout in a week, I glance up
to Paulette seeing the panic flash deep in her darkening blue
eyes.

“
Shit,” She glances between me and
her unconscious man. “How'd you do that? Justice is gonna be so
pissed when he wakes up. You better get.” She leans down, touching
his face tenderly before looking back at me. “I'm not kidding. Go
on, get out of here.”

“
Wait.” I pause. “Did we? I mean,
I'm sorry. I was really wasted last night and can't remember shit,
but if we had sex I want to apologize for making you feel
used.”

What the fuck am I apologizing
for?

Scrubbing my swollen hand over the top of my
head, I watch her face morph from fearful to comical.

“
Honey, we didn't do anything. I
only wanted to make him jealous and you seemed more than happy to
oblige me. But you vowed we wouldn't have sex, not even if I
straddled you nude yelling, “Ride a horse, save a cowboy,” which is
so completely wrong by the way.” She stammers, shoulders jerking
out the rhythm of her giggles.

I grab my boots and head toward the front of
the barn after she points me in the direction of town and I set out
on my way to find Candy.

“
Wait,” I say to myself. “Candy?
Now where the hell did I leave her?” I look down the dirt driveway
and realization hits me. I don't know her, and I can't get in touch
with her. Hell, I couldn't find that little shack she calls a house
if I wanted to, but what choice do I have?

Walking two miles into town my feet are
killing me by the time I spot anything recognizable. I luck up when
as if I was blessed by God Himself, I spot Heaven on Earth, well,
Heaven to me in the form of a Waffle zone. At precisely that moment
my stomach reminds me that except for a liter of alcohol consumed
last night, I haven't eaten in over twelve hours.

Filling up on a greasy, bacon-cheeseburger and
fries, I pay the tab and stand to leave.
Going where
?
Noticing the phone on the counter I ask the waitress if I can make
a phone call. Dialing the only number I've memorized for God only
knows what reason, I wait for the ringing to stop and pray for a
kind voice.

Ten minutes later, I pace the sidewalk waiting
for any sign of the police officer meeting me. Spotting a familiar
red sports car creeping down the side road, I duck inside the
doorway of the corner hardware store. Candy may be worried about
me, but at this point I've got to look out for me. Yes, it's shitty
to leave her here alone to fend for herself, but once I made the
phone call and arranged to meet the Georgia state trooper I
abandoned all thoughts of being someone's knight in shining armor.
She's better off alone than having to deal with my selfishness,
even I know that. Besides, I have shit I need to get off my chest,
and I need to do it soon.

“
Hey boy!” A smirking tan faced,
mid-twenties uniformed police officer strolls my way. Uncertain if
he is the one I'm waiting on to arrive, I play it cool.

“
Hello officer,” I say
respectfully. “How may I help you?”

His smirk turns into to a full face grin and
he claps his hands repeatedly.

“
Well, I'll be damn. You are a
spitting image of her.”

Stopping directly in front of me the officer
extends a hand and I realize he is the guy who Sam sent to get me
the hell out of here.

“
If you mean my sister then I guess
so, although she actually resembles my identical twin
more.”

Dropping his hand from our handshake, he
clutches his stomach tightly while laughing deep from within his
belly. He regains control, slaps his hand hard on my back causing
me to choke and gestures toward his patrol car.

“
Shit,” He says. “You're funny,
too, but I don't have time for jokes. The names RD and
unfortunately for me I owe your sister a big damn favor for saving
my ass last year. So in paying her back you're coming with
me.”

“
Well, damn, don't I feel the
love.”

“
Huh, you will.” He threatens
cryptically as we climb into the car.

On the ride out of town after stopping of at
his place, RD explains that he has plans to hang out with his
buddy's on the river this weekend and no repayment, even one as big
as he owes my sister, will stand in the way of him going to the
party of the year.

We settle down on a pontoon anchored next to
several other large boats filled with inebriated rednecks. Laughing
at the playfulness of it all, I join RD in downing a few cold ones
and it is not long before the women begin swarming around us. Well,
actually they swarm around RD like he has a golden dick.

A loud group of guys climb on board yelling
for five-oh and I realize that in these parts RD is a celebrity of
sorts. Like a superhero, he is their “get out of jail free card,”
so to speak. It's a very relaxed atmosphere as everyone mellows out
with their adult beverages.

The beginning of nightfall creeps upon us, and
soon a guitar gets passed around between just about everyone,
increasing the serenity on the river. I'm actually having a damn
good time, even without being the center of attention with a woman
hanging on my every word. Relaxing is exactly what I need, and
after several hours of hanging out with RD and his buddies I have
discovered that slowing down actually is a good thing. I absolutely
never would have thought that before.

After a few more drinks, and passing again on
playing the guitar, I spot another small group of guys when they
sidle up beside our boat. A few leap over the side rails and join
us. One guy in particular stalks over and stands directly in front
of me. Glancing up from my beer, I see a chafed expression frozen
on his face as he glowers down at me.

“
Get up!” He commands. Boldly
glancing around, I am clearly aware that he absolutely means me,
but even if he is the biggest man I've ever seen in person, I
refuse to coward down.