Blood Wild

"What did she ask you anyway?" Lee asked, now having thought back to when she got pulled aside by Delores and Rita to ask about an assignment in their history class that was two weeks old.

"She... She wanted to know if I was going to go to the Wilding this year." Tom stated and glanced away, embarrassed.

Hearing the word "Wilding" captured Deeny's full attention. Having just thought about the memory of her own close call two years ago at the Wilding... and with this boy's own father no less... set her teeth on edge. Deeny's knuckles were turning white as her hands gripped the steering wheel with such a ferocity. This went unnoticed by either Tom or Lee however, Lee's eyes had lit up at the mention of the annual barn dance.

This would be the first one Lee got to attend, if her mother relented and allowed it. Deeny knew how she felt, as she had been just as giddy and excited about attending her first time as well. While she hadn't attended this past year, because of the drama from the year before, Deeny knew that if momma allowed Lee to go this year, she would be going with her just to look after her little sister.

"Soooo?" Lee stretched the question out much like her own anticipation, almost holding her breath as she looked over her shoulder into the back seat at Tom.

"Huh?" Tom asked, confused possibly from his own distraction while thinking back to the ambush by Sylvia and her minions earlier. His face blank but bordering on panic actually as he replayed the conversation in his head from the time he climbed into the car till this moment.

"Are you going?" Lee clarified a bit, still watching Tom's face and thinking that he was so cute with that look...look of what? She couldn't decide if it was panic or just nervousness. She'd seen how he looked at her when he didn't know she was watching him.

"I... I think I will... maybe..." Tom half mumbled hesitantly, even blushing a little maybe. His eyes never stopped moving, switching back and forth between Lee's face and his own fidgeting hands in his lap as he wrung his fingers nervously.

Lee was positively vibrating with excitement, she had one hand squeezing on Deeny's right arm as she was trying to drive. Deeny gave her a sidelong glance that marked her annoyance of her sister's infatuation with this boy. But, to be honest, Deeny's feelings were more likely tainted by her encounter with his drunken father two years earlier. She understood that, and by glancing in the rearview mirror, she could and did check out this boy. No, even Deeny had to admit, he was a young man, but maybe he didn't quite understand that himself yet. It was hard to tell as he was so seemingly, at least, outwardly shy. Deeny knew that would change though.

As for Lee, she couldn't take her eyes off of Tom. The thoughts running through her mind were a mixed bag of innocent infatuation and a more risqué jumble of desires and longing. She could feel herself tingle in places that shouldn't, and she was... damp. Her heart raced, and her breathing became, well, labored at times and almost nonexistent at others. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel his hands on her, his lips on her lips.

Tom, for most outwardly appearances, seemed calm, if a little shy and uncomfortable. Just under the surface however, he was much like Lee, in that his heart was racing and his body was betraying him in other ways. Thank God he was sitting down and his books were in his lap. With an inward groan, however, he realized that he'd have to climb out of the car eventually and his excitement would be quite evident to a casual glance. If only he didn't let his imagination run away from him like it did. The thoughts and visions of holding Lee close, of kissing her and... and... more. His face was almost purple from blushing so hard.

"My momma already told me she might let me go this year, since I'm eighteen now. That is, if Deeny decides to go too..." She told Tom but looked pleadingly to her older sister, the grip on her arm only barely increasing as if to emphasize her plea.

"Yeah, well it depends on whether or not I get the day off..." Deeny began to grumble but was cut off by Lee's sliding over and hugging her sister enthusiastically.

The old blue Chevy swerved and threatened with squealing tires to run into the ditch along the side of the road before Deeny straightened it back out again. Now Deeny's heart was racing, but she glanced over at her sister and couldn't help but to return the smile that was being aimed at her. Poor Tom, in the back seat hadn't had a seat belt buckled so he had slid from side to side of the car. He looked a little panicked with his hands clutching at the surface of the seat on either side of him. Deeny couldn't see it, but Lee certainly noticed the bulge in his jeans. Lee blushed and turned back around to look out the windshield, and smiled even bigger to herself.

It was only a few minutes later that the old blue Chevy squealed to a stop at the end of the gravel driveway to the Branson's place. Tom opened the door and got out, turning to face the passenger side front window with is book bundle strategically placed in front of his torso. Lee had the window down and was resting her arms on the door and half leaning her chest and head out the window smiling at him but looking a little bashful as well.

"I guess I'll see you at school tomorrow?" Lee said in way of a question.

"Y... yeah. That'll be great." Tom said with a bashful smile.

Deeny rolled her eyes and shook her head at the two of them and revved the engine a bit as she began to let out the clutch and start moving the old car again.

"Okay... bye!" Lee called lifting one hand to wave as the car pulled away in a cloud of dust and thin blue smoke.

Tom stood there for a few minutes until the car vanished around a curve down the road a way. He was still smiling that goofy grin as he turned and began trudging up the gravel drive towards the house... and his father.

In the car, Lee had flopped back into her seat and was staring off into the distance through the windshield, a dreamy smile on her face. Deeny looked over, then did a double take, looking at her younger sister more intently. She slowly shook her head from side to side before for returning her attention to the road as she drove. Deeny knew that Lee was head over heels, even if Lee herself didn't realize it yet. In a way Deeny felt happy and even a little excited for her little sister, but she also felt wary as to what might become of anything with a Branson. Maybe Tom wasn't like his father. Deeny hoped he wasn't anyway, for her sister's sake.

***___***___

The sounds of frogs croaking and crickets, and the occasional night bird calling were a lonely serenade for Walter. At least those sounds almost drowned out his own groaning and whimpering. He wished he could just go to sleep and wake up to find this had all been a bad dream... a nightmare. How had things gotten so out of control?

Walt raised the bottle in his right hand and took another pull of the harsh liquor it contained. Well, it had contained, it was empty now, just like the other two bottles that were laying on their sides across the floor from where he sat with his back against the wall. He wasn't even sure who's fishing shanty this was, it had been dark when he stumbled head first through the unlocked door. There was no electricity in this one, so he had just collapsed in the dark and sat. He sat and tried to think. His bladder had forced him to get up eventually, it had been after day break by then and he could see well enough to rifle the cupboards in this shanty... finding the three bottles of someone's liquor stash.

Walter was by no means even sober when he began drinking from the first bottle. He was angry, heart sick and to be honest, scared. So many games, so many times he'd played cards with those guys. There was no way he could lose every time, someone had to be cheating, he just couldn't prove it. Hank's smugness last night had just been the last straw...Walt had had enough. Fighting wasn't the answer, but he had lost his head. Then when he and Hank had stumbled outside on the porch... and saw Vivian... with HIM... doing... doing... Walt hurled that last, empty, bottle across the room in a burst of rage.

Walter lowered his head and brought his hands to his face, the hot sting of tears prickled at his eyes as they leaked through his scrunched-up eyelids to run through his fingers. Why had Vivian done that? He knew Duke had some sort of hold over women, some charm or secret to getting in their head or in their pants... But with Vivian? His Vivian. They had been married for over nineteen years and she had never even looked at another man.

Even as he moaned again in frustration, the image of his Vivian on her knees in front of Duke, with her lips around his bastard cock flashed through his mind. The smug look of happiness on Dukes face changing to fear, the startled expression in Vivian's eyes... as Walter had pulled the pistol from his pocket. Walt had in that heated moment wanted so badly to shoot Duke in the face, to shoot and kill him, dead. But then Hank had charged him, knocking his hand away from his aim as the gun went off.

Time had stood still for that moment. The pistol had sounded so loud. Then there was silence for what seemed like an eternity... before it was shattered by Vivian's scream of pain! He had shot Vivian... his Vivian... his wife! OH GOD! He just... he just ran. He ran blindly, not knowing where he was going.

The liquor had helped. It had deadened the pain, somewhat. While in a drunken stupor he couldn't think, he couldn't remember. Everything was okay. But it wasn't. The liquor was all gone now and reality was returning with sobriety. Walter began to shake. It was a silent quaking and sobbing as his heart broke yet again seeing in his mind's eye the look of pain and surprise on Vivian's face after the gun had gone off. Her scream still echoed in his ears, not even the frogs and the crickets could drown it out completely.

***___***___

Yvonne half sat, half lay on her ratty old couch in her dingy little one-bedroom apartment. The old black and white television droned on and on with some evening game show that was being aired on whatever channel it happened to be tuned to. She was not paying attention to the show really, no her mind was elsewhere. After arriving home to her depressing little apartment, a small detached portion of a regular house that could be described as a mother-in-law or granny house. Her land lord was a nice enough old guy, bordering on senility she suspected, but he pretty much left her alone as long as she paid her rent on time.

The apartment really wasn't dingy or depressing, it was just, quiet and lonely. Or was it that Yvonne was just lonely. She grimaced and took another long sip of the glass of gin she had poured for herself after changing out of her waitress uniform into a baggy loose cotton gown, more like an oversized tee shirt really. After a long hot shower to get the smell of grease and coffee out of her hair and skin, the gown was all she really wanted to wear. Setting the glass down she reached for another cigarette.

A long pull of the smoke filled her lungs and Yvonne closed her eyes and pictured those lips again in her mind. Deeny's shining eyes filled with... could that have been desire? She was so, so very close. Yvonne shuddered again and exhaled the long draw of smoke and moaned ever so slightly Oh to have just closed that small distance and kissed those lips. If only... Leaning her head back on the backrest of the couch, her right hand holding the cigarette extended along the back of the couch, she let her left hand drift downwards.

She shifted her legs so that her right was extended along the couch, like her right arm. The left leg unfolded and dropped off the front of the cushions, her left foot coming to rest on the floor. Yvonne teased up the bottom hem of her gown revealing to any who would have witnessed, that she had nothing on underneath. Those long fingers of hers danced ever so lightly across the skin of her abdomen and lower through the carpet of fine hair on her pubic mound. The red nail polish glistening with moisture as she let her fingers slide through the dampness of her folds.

Still with her eyes closed, Yvonne imagined herself kissing and being kissed in return by Deeny. Her own fingers became Deeny's as well. The gentle, delicate touching and probing as her moist lips parted in anticipation. Yvonne's thumb traced circles around her proudly erect clitoris. Something that anyone who got to know her intimately found enticing and fascinating in its size and her sensitivity. Another long sorrowful moan slipped from Y's parted lips. If only...

***___***___

Cam groaned mournfully when his wind-up alarm clock sounded off that evening. It seemed like he had only just laid down to sleep. Reaching blindly with his right hand until he found and silenced the mechanical cacophony, knocking off his bedside nightstand in the process. With another groan of defeat, he threw back the covers and rotated his legs over the side of the bed so that he could sit up. Cam rubbed his tired face and eyes with the palms of his hands before yawning widely and stretching his arms over his head.

Being the least senior on the department roster left a lot to be desired. Cam got all the shit jobs, and swing shifts, and first call for any unwanted overtime by anyone else. Many would think that since Sheriff Potter was Cam's uncle that he might get some preferential treatment, but they would be wrong. Sheriff Potter was not one to condone nepotism. So, Cam, like any new deputy would pay his dues and put in the hours and legwork.

Cam was just standing up from his seat on the side of his bed, arching with his hands pressed to the small of his back, listening to the bones crack and pop, when his phone rang. He straightened up and crossed the room to his small wardrobe and dresser where the phone was sitting.

"Cam..." He said into the mouthpiece after picking up the receiver.

"About time you woke up. You ARE awake, aren't you?" Growled Sheriff Potter's voice through the tinny phone line.

"Yes... Yes sir... Unc... I mean Sheriff." Cam sputtered standing up a little straighter.

"Grab a shower, then some coffee and a bite to eat. I've got something for you to do. It's official department business but I want it low key and quiet. Got that?" Gerald barked through the phone line into Cam's ear.

"Yes sir. What...What do you need me to do?" Cam switched the phone receiver from his right ear to his left and held the phone with his shoulder as he reached for a pen and a note pad.

"I need you to go over to the lake, and poke around the shed and the other fishing shanties and look for Walter Wainwright. And for God's sake, don't shoot him! He may be an idiot but he's harmless. He'll probably be drunk anyway." Gerald grumbled directions to his nephew.

"Uncl... I mean, Sheriff? Shouldn't he be considered armed? I mean, he did shoot his wife." Cam ventured, concerned about his own safety as well as anyone else's.

Cam heard a heavy sigh on the other end of the phone line as his uncle Gerald ran a hand across his face as he considered what he'd just been asked. After a few more moments, the Sheriff cleared his throat and clarified his marching orders a bit more.

"Okay, good point, you're thinking like a cop, good. So, here's what you'll do. Go to the shed first. According to what information I've gathered, the gun in question was last seen skittering off the end of the porch into the weeds. If Walt isn't in or at the shed, kick around the weeds around the porch and find that pistol. Bag it of course, you know the drill. If you can't find the thing then be extra cautious approaching Walt if or when you find him. Got it?" Gerald asked finally as he rested his head on and upturned left hand propped on night stand beside his own bed.

"Yes, sir. Shed first, look for the pistol, find Walter and... bring him in?" Cam asked clarifying again.

"Oh, for Fuck's sake! Of course, bring him in! Lock him up in holding while he sobers up or sleeps it off. I'll be in in the morning to question him myself." Gerald barked gruffly over the phone.

"Yes sir, of course, will do." Cam replied a bit sheepishly

"Right then, get to it. I'm going to bed, don't call me unless... just don't call me." Gerald said as he hung up his phone.

Cam took the phone away from his ear and looked at it as if it were a snake before hanging up his end as well. He tossed the pen onto the dresser top and turned to walk towards his bathroom for a quick shower, pulling his white undershirt over his head as he went.

Fifteen minutes later, Cam was buckling on his gun belt before reaching for his lid. His broad brimmed hat, much like the state police boys wore, only in the brown and tan colors of the sheriff's department. He pulled the door closed behind him as he headed to his cruiser. Cam thought about stopping in at the diner to get that quick breakfast and some coffee like his uncle had suggested. He knew that Deeny wouldn't be there this time of the evening so he pulled into the Tasty Freeze at the edge of town and ordered a burger and fries, and had them fill his thermos with black coffee. The coffee wasn't as good as the diner's but it would do the job and keep him awake.

***___***___

The sounds of arguing, screaming and shouting really, still bled through the bedroom walls. The usual evening fight could be heard over the sound of the music blasting out of the stereo headphones pressed firmly to her ears, even under the pillow that she had covering her head as she lay face down on her bed. Her eyes prickled with tears of frustration and, yes, hurt.

Being an only child could be a curse some times. It meant that all the attention, wanted or not, fell on that child. Attention could be affection, or encouragement, even love... Yeah, that would be great, wouldn't it? More often than not however, it was anger, derision and spite. A single child in a failing marriage all too often becomes a pawn that gets used. Used by one parent to dig at the other. The result was a broken spirit. A broken child, from a broken family.

The sound of something shattering against a wall, another string of curses, then a slammed door. Moments later the sound of a revving engine and then squealing tires fading in the distance. Sylvia sobbed quietly, her head still buried under her pillow... and the music kept playing.

***___***___

The dinner table was a little quieter than usual this night. It would have been downright somber had it not been for Lee's exuberance and excitement over the upcoming Wilding dance. Her momma had already said that yes, she was old enough to attend this year, even if she really didn't like the idea of it all. Caroline hadn't been to it herself for many years. She had her reasons but she never told anyone what they were. This year, however, she would go too.

Deeny, smiled at the talk, a halfhearted smile at best, more of a polite acknowledgement really. She hadn't said whether or not she would be going herself. She was still shaken a bit from the dance and the near rape from two years ago. Only her mother knew about that though. Duke remained quiet. His head was down and he didn't make eye contact with either of the three women at the table. He knew he was in the doghouse with Caroline, but that was nothing new. Fresh on his mind however, was the incident last night, and nearly getting shot. Whenever he thought about it, he had a nervous shiver.

"Momma? Will you help me come up with a costume?" Lee asked, her voice still tinged with excitement and anticipation.

"Why you could go as a gypsy, like your sister did the last time." Caroline offered before taking another bite of her dinner.