But Aunt Delores fed me when Mom wouldn’t buy groceries for weeks on end. She helped me with homework. She convinced me that I could make it in this world and be better than the not-so-white trash the world told me I was. Later, she paid for doctor appointments I couldn’t afford and helped me fill out applications and forms.
I owe her. So, if I have to walk through the streets of New Orleans with Buck and his nasal-voiced ex, I’ll do it. And if I have to do it without putting my combat boot ankle deep in her stuck-up ass, I’ll do that too.
I won’t like it, but I’ll do it.
As we sit at a small table outside of a café, Buck has hold of my hand, his fingers entwined with mine. He keeps turning to look at me when Arianne talks to him. He’s barely acknowledged her. This should make me feel better. But the more she talks, the worse it is.
She turns to the cameraman, looking straight into the lens. “You know, Buck’s house is just beautiful. It’s set away from the city, but just enough to not be too far of a drive to go shopping. Right, Buck?”
His grip tightens on my hand. “Yeah.”
“When he and I get married—”
He glares at the camera. “We aren’t getting married. I never proposed to her. Don’t intend to.”
Her glossy, red lips turn up in a smile as she lays her hand on his bicep. “Oh, you. I know you want to surprise me, you devil. But don’t worry. I’ll be surprised no matter when or how you do it. It’s going to be marvelous, I just know it.”
He grumbles under his breath. “Fucking delusional.”
* * *
How did this happen? I’m minding my own business, heading to my car, and Arianne follows me, as though she thinks I’m giving her a ride back from The Quarter.
Fuck that shit.
I get in, purposely failing to unlock the passenger door. Maybe she’ll get a clue. Of course she doesn’t. She comes around to my side, knocking on the window. I roll the glass down.
Her blue eyes harden and she may as well be spitting venom when she says, “Now, look here, you tramp. I found those papers at Buck’s place. You had your chance, it’s my turn. You should slink off back under the rock you crawled out from under before you come out of this looking even worse than the trashy whore you are.”
How much jail time would an assault conviction cost me?
Nah, she’s not worth it. “Whatever. It doesn’t seem like Buck’s too keen on picking up where you two left off.”
She tosses her hair behind her and props her hands on her skinny hips. “He will once he hears my news. He’s going to drop you in the dirt where you belong, and we’ll ride off into the Caribbean sunset together.”
My teeth grind as anger threatens to boil over. If I don’t get away from this bitch, I’m gonna have to hurt her. I slam my foot onto the accelerator. Tires squeal as I swerve to miss a car coming out of my blind spot.
I wish I could’ve seen Buck coming and swerved to miss him. A blind spot is all I’ve got when it comes to Buck. I knew letting him close was going to torch my peace of mind all over again.
Hot tears sting my eyes.
I blink away the moisture as a weird kind of déjà vu comes over me. But I know exactly why this is so familiar. It’s like when I was in high school.
I hated fucking high school.
Buck was just about the only kid in school that didn’t call me trash at least once.
Even the other poor kids looked down on me.
To them, my momma was trash and I’ll always be just as trashy.
SEVENTEEN
I mash the power button on the remote. “I’ll be back later.”
“Son, don’t go off and do something you’ll regret.” Pops calls after me.
I just about take the screen door off the hinges as I head out front.
“I regret ever signing up for this fucking show.”
Trudi stands behind the open door of the RV, looking around it as though it’s a shield. “Now, Buck, calm down.”
I grab the handle and yank it open. “Calm down? Did you watch that fucking show you produced?”
She backs up the two steps into the interior of the bus. “You have to understand, I’m not the director. He’s the one who decides how the film we take is edited.”
“Bullshit. You had to know what you were doing.” My hands fist, and anger courses through me. “What the fuck was that?”
“It was creative license.” Trudi backs further into the RV as I climb in with her.
Landry steps in front of her. “Buck, back off.”
I glare at each of the cameramen in turn. “You. And you. And YOU.”
Rick crosses his arms. “Seriously, man, stand down.”