“Drove. I parked at the main house and some Indian guy directed me over the river and through the woods.”
“You sticking around?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“Mi casa es su casa.”
Anna groaned. “Is that all the Spanish you remember?”
“Sí.” I slid her a sly glance. “Bésame el culo.”
“Redneck.”
“Wetback.”
“Damn, Gunny, it is good to see you.”
“You, too, A-Rod.”
A bottle of Wild Turkey and a bottle of Jose Cuervo sat on the plastic table between us. Upon returning to the cabin, we’d stretched out on lawn chairs to soak up the fading rays of sunlight.
When I finished telling her about my recent foray into the law enforcement race, she said, “No. Fucking. Way.”
I swigged whiskey straight from the bottle. “You mean no way am I going to win? Or no way because you’re shocked I’m actually doing it?”
“Both.”
“Harsh.”
“Just calling it like I see it. Maybe this Dawson is a douche and can’t find his ass with both hands, but people will vote for him because he’s a dude. You might be the former sheriff’s daughter, but that ain’t gonna make any difference.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Besides, you’ve been away, Mercy. Women who’ve been at war… well, I’ll bet you feel more like an outsider now than you ever did.”
Her response stung. Another slug of Wild Turkey didn’t soften the blow or cool the heat in my cheeks. So I turned it back on her. “Did J-Hawk’s wife know who you were?”
“Hell no. It wasn’t like I gave her my condolences. But if looks could kill?” Anna aimed the half-empty bottle of tequila at me like a gun. “She’d be dead.”
I waited. And drank.
“It’s more than me just hating her because she had him and I didn’t. I hated that she didn’t understand him, and she sure as hell didn’t deserve him.”
What was I supposed to say? That J-Hawk fucked up by staying with his psycho wife in order to protect his children? He’d willingly made that choice, but even with his death, Anna wouldn’t see that. And I couldn’t tell her the truth.
“His youngest daughter looks just like him.”
“Anna. Don’t do this to yourself.”
“Too late. A part of me wanted to stand up and scream during the service, scream at his perfect little blond wifey-poo, scream that she’d killed Jason a long time ago. It was her fault Jason was dead now. If he hadn’t been trying so goddamn hard to get away from her, he wouldn’t have ended up on this path, murdered by some stupid redneck and left in a field to die.”
The gruesome vision of J-Hawk’s blood-soaked body appeared. I closed my eyes, but the image stayed burned in my mind. And the damn whiskey wasn’t scrubbing it away.
“When I sat in the back of the church, I saw the type of monster she is, Mercy. Sometimes Jason would tell me some of the passive/aggressive, just plain nutso stuff she did or said.” She laughed bitterly. “And I wondered if he wasn’t making her out to be way worse than she was to alleviate his guilt about being with me. I mean, come on, isn’t that whole married-guy bullshit about his wife not understanding him clichéd? Isn’t that what you tried to get me to understand?”
“Yes.” But I didn’t have the whole story back then, like I did now. Confirming her theory that he’d ended up with a miserable life served no purpose for anyone. Especially Anna, who was mourning him hard.
Anna kept talking. Needed to get it out, I supposed, and I should’ve applauded her effort. But I preferred to keep this life-altering emotional shit bottled up inside and parcel it out in small doses.
One thing was clear. As much as I thought I’d known J-Hawk, I hadn’t. After Anna’s rant, I looked at her and felt that same sense of discord. Did I really know her?
Do you ever really know anyone?
“You’re looking at me like you’ve seen a ghost, Gunny.”
A shiver did ripple down my spine when I remembered J-Hawk had said the exact same thing to me. “No. I’m just wondering… Why are you here?”
“I missed you?”
I couldn’t even crack a smile.
“We both know I wouldn’t be here if Jason wasn’t dead.” She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. “I hate even saying the words he’s dead. I should accept that Jason’s death was as ugly as his life. But when I stood in the church with my hand on his coffin? I felt nothing. No closure. Nothing but anger. It’s not fucking fair.”
“I know.”
Tears dripped down her face and dotted the slate beneath her chair. “I loved him, Mercy. Loved him like I’ve never loved anyone else. It’s made me aware of my own mortality. Made me wonder if Jason’s soul is finally at peace.”
I gulped whiskey as I considered my answer. “What about your soul?”
“I have no soul.” She stood and wiped her face. “I gotta take a leak. Or what was that funny thing you and Jason always used to say?”
“Gotta see a man about a horse,” I said absently.
“That, too. And when I get back? We’re getting shitfaced and playing poker.”
Just like old times.
SIXTEEN
Someone was trying to beat down my door.
“Jesus Christ. Grow a little patience. I’m coming.” I flipped the dead bolt and jerked the door open.
Ow. When had the morning sun gotten so bright?
“It’s about damn time.” Geneva bulled her way inside. Her eyes took in my camo tank top, boxing shorts, and extreme bedhead. “Why aren’t you dressed? We have a meeting in half an hour.”
“Shit.”
“Is your bleary-eyed state due to the empty Wild Turkey bottle and the empty Cuervo bottle on the table outside?”
“The Cuervo bottle was mine.” Anna sat up on the couch and threw off the afghan. “Man. I’m never drinking again.”
I snorted. “Right. I’ve heard that a time or twenty.”
“Fuck off.”
Geneva lifted both eyebrows at the exchange.
“Geneva, meet my army buddy, Anna Rodriguez. Anna, meet my oldest friend, Geneva Illingsworth.”
They mumbled at each other.
“Are you staying long?” Geneva asked Anna.
“Haven’t decided.”
“So you’re not in the army?”
“No, ma’am. In fact, I got out two years before Gunny.”
Geneva looked perplexed at Anna’s use of my nickname, but she recovered fast. “Well, I’m afraid I’ll have to cut your visit short for a bit this morning. Mercy has a meeting scheduled.”
“No sweat. I’ll tag along.” Anna stretched. “Won’t take me long to get ready.”
Anna was less sociable than me, and I couldn’t deal with both her and Geneva first thing this morning. “Tell you what-hang out here, and I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Huh-uh. I’m going.” She shook her finger at me. “Pissing me off when I’m hungover is a bad choice. You know that.”
Anna’s threat wouldn’t fly with me. Once her superior; always her superior. “Back off, A-Rod. I’m dealing with campaign stuff and don’t need your help. Work on losing your bitchy attitude while I’m gone.”
Anna whizzed a decorative pillow at my head. I caught it and flung it back at her Frisbee-style. She grinned. “Just testing your reflexes, Gunny. Hate to think you were getting soft.”
“Soft my ass.”
She hip-checked me as she walked by. “The couch sucks. I’m sleeping it off in your bed.”
I managed to grab my clothes before she slammed the bedroom door in my face. I showered, braided my hair, and slathered on makeup. Dressed in my newest Cruel Girl jeans, a sleeveless blue-plaid shirt, and my sparkly red rhinestone belt, I epitomized the red, white, and blue hometown cowgirl.