Whiskey Lullaby(12)

I grumbled, fumbling around for the ringing phone on my nightstand. Bo’s name flashed on the screen and my heart dropped to my stomach.

“Are you okay?” I blurted, already swinging my legs over the edge of the bed and searching with my feet for some shoes.

“Can you come get me,” he slurred. “Please, Nanner?”

Oh, the nickname. He’s drunker than Cooter Brown. I sighed, trying to calm my racing pulse. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know, some… place.” He huffed. “Jerod said some guy came and took people’s keys. Someone said something about cops, so I ran into the woods. Come get me.”

“I should just make you sleep in Jerod’s truck.”

“Jerod’s screwing some girl in it, so I can’t sleep in there.” He groaned. “Please. I love you. Don’t leave me drunk and stranded in a smelly, sex truck.”

“Well, I can’t come get you if I don’t know where you are!”

“Hang on.” A rustling came over the line. He swore, and seconds later, there was a ping on my phone. Up popped a text with his location pinned by a little red dot. He’s all the way out in Sylacauga? Jesus! “And, you might wanna bring Pop’s truck,” he said. “I’m like, in the woods or some shit.”

“I’m going to kill you,” I groaned before I hung up, already slipping a pair of jeans and tennis shoes on.

_





Thirty minutes later, I was in the middle of the woods, gripping the steering wheel to Daddy’s truck so hard my knuckles ached. The truck bumped over a rut. The headlights bounced over the tree trunks. Branches slapped against the window. A deer darted across the path and I slammed my brakes on. I wasn’t even sure if I was headed in the right direction. I kept cruising over the uneven path, glancing at the phone to see if I was anywhere close to that little red blip on the map when the right side of the truck suddenly dropped. My phone clattered to the floorboard and I screamed, closing my eyes as I prepared to go into a ravine. The tail slid around when I hit the brakes, and the truck thankfully stopped. My heart hammered against my ribs, a jolt of adrenaline buzzed through me, and my hands shook on the steering wheel.

When I shoved the gear into reverse and floored the accelerator, all the tires did was spin, slinging mud and gravel into the wheel well. I shoved the gear into drive and floored it. But it didn’t budge. Sighing, I pressed my forehead against the steering wheel. “Shit.”

I was literally going to strangle my brother.

I glanced through the window. Nothing but woods. Dark woods. That is how horror movies start. Every single time. I threw open the door and hopped out. The distant sound of music and people laughing at least told me I was in the vicinity. “I’m going to kill you, Bo,” I whispered, using the flashlight on my phone to navigate through the overgrown brush. The distinct smell of burning timbers filled the air and I stopped at the top of a hill. From there, I could see the orange glow of a bonfire, embers flitting into the open sky. A circle of pickups and Jeeps filled with teenagers drinking surrounded the fire pit. Shaking my head, I started down, grabbing onto the branches of shrubs and trees to keep myself from sliding.

On my way through the caravan of vehicles, I spotted Jerod in the back of one of the trucks with Britney Swinson’s youngest sister Darlene wrapped around him like a vine. He tipped back a bottle of something—most likely his grandad’s moonshine— his eyes locking on me.

“Where’s Bo, Jerod?” I shouted over the music blaring from the cab of the truck.

“Puking somewhere,” he laughed. God, that kid tried my nerves. Darlene rolled her eyes before swinging her leg over Jerod’s lap and straddling him.

“When it starts to burn when you pee, Jerod, come see me in the ER.”

Darlene scowled over her shoulder at me, and I smiled before making my way between the trucks to look for Bo. Most every truck’s windows were fogged over, some of the vehicles rocking back and forth. The music faded out and the low notes of another song started which left it quiet enough that I could hear the awful retching coming from the bushes a few feet away. That’s got to be him. “Bo?” I shouted.

I followed the sound and stopped dead in my tracks when I saw none other than Noah Greyson knelt beside my little brother, shoving a bottle of water at him. “You need to drink something,” he said before glancing up at me. “He’s shitfaced.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Bo held a finger in the air. “I’m…” he gagged. “I’m fine, Nanner.”

One corner of Noah’s lips curled into a devious smirk. “Nanner?”

“Don’t…” I glared at Noah when I knelt beside Bo and swiped my hand over his forehead. “How much did you drink?”

He drunkenly pointed at an empty bottle of Jack tossed amongst the leaves.

“Oh my God… are you serious? The whole bottle?” I hung my head. “The whole thing, Bo?”

He vomited again.

“Hey, he’s just a kid,” Noah said.

“I know.” For some reason, the fact that he was there aggravated me. Him telling me that my brother was just a kid annoyed me. I didn’t need him telling me to go easy on my brother. Noah Greyson didn’t know me, he didn’t know my family. For all I knew he was down there, feeding them alcohol. I was tired and stressed, and an unwarranted wave of repulsion rose inside me. “Why are you even here? What, were you giving them liquor?”

He frowned before pushing to his feet.

“Why are you down here with a bunch of drunk teenagers, Noah?” I asked again.

“God, you really are no different, are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Poor white boy, has to be trouble, huh?” He laughed sarcastically, widening his stance and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I didn’t say that, I just…” I struggled for the words, embarrassed.

“They’re loud as shit. I could hear them from my Grandma’s front porch.”

“I just—” I swallowed.

“I came down here to take keys away. You know, so they couldn’t drive drunk.”

Glancing down at the leaves, I rubbed my lips together. “I’m sorry.”

“I could have just called the cops, but I’m not really that big of a shit, you know?”

Bo dragged in a hard breath. When he glanced up at me, his face crumpled. “I shouldn’t have gotten drunk, I just, I just don’t want Momma to… I just want to be anywhere else.”

I knew how he felt and it broke my heart. “It’s fine, Bo, it’s fine…” I sighed and grabbed his arm, throwing it over my shoulder and attempting to hoist him up. “Can you get up?”

“Yeah.” He staggered to his feet, and I fought to keep us both upright. Noah’s hand landed on my waist, steadying me.

“Whoa, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” His hand subtly glided over my hip as he moved behind me, wedging his way between Bo and I. “Come on, kid.” He looped Bo’s arm over his shoulders. “One foot in front of the other.”

“I’m sorry I slung shit on you,” Bo slurred, his eyes crossing when he glanced up at Noah.

“It’s fine.”

They stumbled through the leaves past the crackling timbers of the bonfire with me a few steps behind. When they passed one of the trucks, a group of girls whistled, catching my attention. “Hey Noah!” they sang out. He ignored them, but I watched them watch him. The thing about Noah was, he commanded attention by simply existing. He walked like a bad boy, but he had just enough soul that he could get any good girl close enough to ruin her. Guys like him—they may have the best intentions, but they live to destroy themselves, and by proxy, they destroy you in the process.

“Where’s your car?” Noah asked.

“Up there.” I pointed up the hillside.

“Come on, Bo. Help me out, man.”

When we reached the top, Noah glanced over his shoulder. Bo swayed, and Noah steadied him while nodding toward Daddy’s truck. “And don’t tell me… you’re stuck?” Stifling a laugh, he dropped his chin and shook his head. I felt like the stupid, helpless girl, and I didn’t like that.

“I was gonna get it out.”

“Uh-huh.” Noah dragged a half-conscious Bo over to me. “Got him?” I grabbed onto Bo and he slumped against me, groaning. Noah glanced at him. “Just keep him upright and give me five minutes.” He lifted his eyebrows, waiting for a response.

“Okay.”

And then he took off down the hill, the leaves crunching underneath his boots.

“I’m never drinking this much again,” Bo grumbled, resting his head against my shoulder.

“Yeah, okay, buddy.” I patted his back trying not to inhale the stout smell of bourbon seeping from him.

A few minutes later, headlights from an approaching truck bobbled through the trees. The engine stuttered as it came to a stop. Noah hopped out, rounded the front of the truck, and grabbed Bo. “Come on,” he said, helping him to the door. Once he got him inside, he walked to the driver side and looked back at me. “You coming or what?”

I thumbed toward Daddy’s truck. “I uh…”