HOLD (20 page)

A man was smoking a cigarette by the door.  I knew him, although it took me a moment to match him to a name. 

“Benji Carson.”  I held my hand out. 

“Chase.”  He shook it.  Then he stepped on his cigarette and craned his neck to see into the lobby.  “Heard Conway was here and figured I’d come down and check on him.  He’s been working for me, you know.  Kind of a cocky little turd at times but overall a decent kid.  Hard worker.  Sucks that this happened to him.  I don’t know the brother that well.”  He scratched absently at his thick belly.  “I was also sorry to hear about your mom.  You guys have had a shit day that’s for sure. First one tragedy and then another.” 

“Well, let’s just hope that bad things don’t really happen in threes.”  I’d tossed off the comment lightly but it kind of stuck in the air.  A split second of unreasonable panic followed. 

“Did you run into my brother Cord out here?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Just a few minutes ago.  We were chatting about your folks, and about Deck.”  Then he frowned.  “I think I pissed him off or something.” 

“You?”  I was surprised.  Cord wasn’t one to get all agitated over nothing and it was unlikely that mild-mannered Benji Carson had done the job.  “Why do you think that?”

Carson sighed.  “I said something that I figured he knew about already.  I mean, I knew, Gaps knows, there’s probably a few more who also know since Benton is the kind of prick that shoots his mouth off.” 

My muscles tightened instinctively.  I’d been hoping to make it out of Emblem without hearing Benton’s name again. 

“Tell me,” I said. 

Two minutes later I was back in the lobby, Benji Carson on my heels.  Creed shot to his feet as soon as he saw the look on my face. 

“We’ve got to go,” I announced. 

He tensed.  “Where?”

“To find Cord.  He took off.” 

Creed felt around in his pockets.  “Shit, he’s got my keys.”

“I know.”  I dangled the ring of keys Ben had handed over when I asked for a favor.  “We’ve got a loaner.  You remember Benji Carson.  He’s going to hang around here in case Conway comes out before we’re back.” 

I told Ben to please let Conway know that we hadn’t abandoned him.  We would return.  Then I hurried after Creed, who was already waiting at the door.

“You have an idea where he’d go?” he asked as we climbed into the Carson’s Garage tow truck. 

“I have an idea,” I said grimly. 

He didn’t ask me anything else.  The three of us have always had a strong connection.  Some might call it vaguely supernatural.  Others might point to some scientific theories on the tangled blood bonds between those who started life together before they even knew they were alive.  I wouldn’t know who to believe but what I did know was that whenever one of my brothers was hurt or in danger some primordial sense awoke inside of me, warning that a piece of my soul was at risk. 

It was fully awake right now. 

The things I’d heard in front of the hospital weren’t that terrible.  I’d heard far worse where Benton was concerned.  But Cord was walking a thin edge today.  I knew it from the moment I saw him in the dim light of early morning.  Our mother’s death had stirred something vulnerable inside of him.  Creed and I didn’t need to talk about it to know it was true.  Cordero, our rock, our solid center, was standing over a yawning precipice that could swallow everything he’d struggled so hard to build. 

As soon as we were out of the center of town I hit the gas pedal hard.  We careened into the dark desert silently, a singular thought between us. 

Cordero.  Don’t. 

CORD

Chase had just disappeared behind the doors to go search for Conway when I realized I was missing something. 

“Let me have your keys,” I told Creed.  “I’ve got to grab my phone out of the truck and give Say a call.” 

He tossed them right over.  As I was heading out a familiar blonde woman was on her way in.  She looked unwell and exhausted, preoccupied.  She didn’t give me a second look though so I might have been wrong about knowing her.   

A storm was brewing to the southeast.  The sky had grown dark but I could see the flashes of lightning and smell the dust.  The palo verde branches swayed in the wind.  Sometimes these summer storms were deceptive.  They would seem as if they were bearing straight down on you.  And then they would veer off in the opposite direction or disappear completely.  But wherever they did unleash the effect could be ferocious, complete with overflowing washes, flooded country roads. 

“Hey there,” said a voice and I looked up to see a thickset middle-aged man closing the door of a tow truck.  I hadn’t heard it drive up so either I was too lost in my thoughts or he’d just been sitting there, watching the approach of the weather and maybe counting the lightning bolts.   It didn’t take me long to place him. 

“Carson,” I said, extending my hand to the owner of Carson’s Garage.  He’d been an Emblem fixture since I could remember and more recently a friend of Deck’s.  I hadn’t been surprised to hear that he’d hired one of the young Gentry brothers to work in his garage.  It had probably been a favor to Deck. 

He crushed a cigarette under his boot and squinted at the medical building.  “Heard that the kid might be here and wanted to check on him.”

“He’s here.  Cracked his knuckles on a metal post so he’s getting put back together.” 

“Gonna be tough to get pasted back into one piece after a night like this.” 

“That’s the truth.” 

Carson eyed me.  “I guess it’s been one blow after another for you guys.”  He coughed and cleared his throat, shifting around awkwardly.  “Heard about Maggie of course.” 

I was silent, remembering a room that held a body that was once a woman.  As soon as I’d set foot in that morgue I knew that moment would be another one destined to plague my dreams. 

“Your dad and I were pals in high school,” he continued.  “Bet you didn’t know that.” 

I didn’t. 

Carson sighed.  “He wasn’t always a rat bastard.”  He held up a hand.  “Not excusing him by any means.  He could be a pain in the ass with an occasional hair trigger temper but he was a fun guy to have around.  Girls loved him.”  Carson frowned, gazing out toward the approaching storm.  “I never guessed he’d turn into the mess that he is.”

I wasn’t concerned about Benton.  I didn’t want to hear about him.  It was on the tip of my tongue to excuse myself and leave Benji Carson to his musings of yesteryear when he piped up again.   

“He ain’t even worked since Christ knows when.  Only way he’s able to scrape by at all is because of all the cheddar he extorts from Deck.” 

He had said it so matter-of-factly I figured I must have heard him wrong.  I almost let it just go by.  But something bugged me.  It had bugged me for a while.  Benton had to know we were all living less than an hour’s reach from here.  He would have had no qualms about trying force the three of us to cough up some cash if he thought we had any and he would have used threats and even Maggie as the means.  But we hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him in years. 

Why?
 

In the back of my mind I knew there had to be a reason. 

And Benjamin Carson had just unwittingly coughed it up. 

I crossed my arms.  “Just how long has that fucker been weaseling cash out of my cousin?”

Carson flinched.  He pursed his lips together and ran a hand over the back of his neck, stalling.  He must have realized he’d said too much and after all, if any Gentry had his loyalty it was Deck. 

“Long enough,” he said carefully, shooting me a sidelong glance.  “Deck gives him just enough to keep him out of your face.  The rub is that he would only keep the flow moving if Benton stayed away from you guys.” 

I nodded slowly.  “I see.” 

And I did.  I must have been willfully blind not to understand it before.  Between the time Deck got out of the Marines and the time he hooked up with Jenny, he’d been living in an old trailer that had once belonged to his father.  He kept it parked not fifty yards from Benton’s front door and even though the three of us had nagged him to get the hell out of Emblem he had stubbornly stayed put for a long time.  It wasn’t a money issue.  Deck had all kinds of schemes and business going on that kept the green stuff rolling in. 

All at once I had a flashback to being a kid, an ancient time when Deck, five years older than us, had seemed valiantly enormous.  He could mouth off to Benton outrageously. Benton didn’t dare belt him for it or else he faced the wrath of his older brother, our Uncle Chrome.  Deck stood in front of us whenever he could and spoke for us when we were too frightened.  He was our hero then.  And even though he went about it quietly, he was still trying to be our hero now.  I felt a surge of love for my tough, enigmatic cousin.  And then I felt a stab of rage for my father. 

I stared at the keys in my hand.  From here I could see into the lobby.   The blonde woman I’d passed on the way out was saying something to Creed.  Chase must still be in the back with Conway.  My brothers would never let me go confront Benton and if I insisted they would follow.  Creed was the quickest to get riled up and it was unlikely he’d keep his fists to himself if he was able to get a crack at Benton.  Chase used to feel the strongest emotional attachment to our mother and this day had already been painful enough for him. 

“You all right, Cord?”

“Fine.  Look, I don’t mean to cut this short but I’ve got to run a quick errand.” 

Carson looked unconvinced, probably figuring correctly that whatever errand I was tackling in the midst of all this chaos wasn’t harmless.  But he just shrugged.  “All right.  You take care.” 

I didn’t answer him.  It wasn’t his fault, but I was burning up. 

My lowlife piece of shit father had fouled up everything he touched and goddammit he was done taking things from the people I loved. It would never end and it
had
to end.  I had to end it. 

There was no looking back once I was in Creed’s truck.  I was out of the parking lot and on the road before I could think twice.  There was no plan, not really, no strategy except to let Benton Gentry know that he was done.  He didn’t exist for us.  I wasn’t going to allow him to keep putting the screws to Deck by dangling us over his head. 

I could have found my way out here blindfolded.  For the rest of my life it wouldn’t matter how many years passed by. I would still be able to sniff out this miserable corner of the world.  It was coded into my DNA. I turned down the winding dirt road that led to my parents’ place.   It was dark enough that I couldn’t really see the homes that squatted out in the desert but I knew they were there.  Some were the property of living Gentrys, or dead Gentrys, or imprisoned Gentrys.  Some looked halfway decent.  Some were utterly squalid.  There were probably people in this country who would deny that anyone really lived like that but they would be wrong. 

I’d expected my stomach to do backflips when I was back on my father’s property but aside from a vague sense of unease I felt nothing.  This place had disturbed my nightmares for so long it scarcely seemed real anymore.  I cut the headlights as I coasted the final fifty yards.  

A naked single bulb was all that illuminated the outside.  I could see a faint light peeking around the greasy oilcloth that covered the front room window and figured he was probably in there, sitting alone in the dark and getting shitfaced in honor of his dead wife. 

Calmly knocking on the door made me feel like a complete fucking hypocrite but I had to keep my head on straight and my hands to myself.  The first round of knocking brought nothing, no response at all.  I waited for a full minute and then pounded harder. 

It occurred to me how easy it would be if Benton just didn’t answer the door.  I could just go home to Saylor, to my kids, to everything that was good and gentle in the world, everything that was the opposite of this place.  If Benton ever came around I’d just tell him to eat shit and die. 

That wouldn’t stop him though. 

That’s why I stayed at that door and battered it one last time. 

“Fuck,” groaned a voice somewhere in the dark depths.  There was a crash and then an uneven shuffling sound that drew closer. 

I kept my arms at my sides and waited to see my father. 

Benton Gentry had once been a powerful man who turned heads; some lustful, others fearful.  But now he was just a soft, blue-eyed puddle.  He outweighed me to be sure, but he was full of weak meat, not muscle.  I didn’t want this to come down to violence.  Lord knows I had a lot to lose.  But if it did I knew I could take him down in three seconds.  There was a certain power that came with knowing that. 

The giant of my nightmares blinked at me owlishly and pushed open the ragged screen door. 

“Hey there, kid,” he said, surprise in his voice. 

“It’s Cordero,” I told him. 

He scratched at his head, a mop of dark, greying blonde that was patchy and greasy.  Then he chuckled.  “I know that.  You really think I don’t fucking know which one you are?”

I had to cross my arms over my chest.  I had to do it because my hands had instinctively drawn up into fists. 

He belched and started to wander back inside.  “You comin’ in?”

I felt for my wedding ring, a habit.  Sometimes I caught myself absently pressing my fingers against it, a reminder that it represented the solid ground I stood on.  But my finger was empty now.  In my haste to get out of the house this morning I’d forgotten to slip it on.  A casual mistake that now seemed to reek of a bad omen. 

The smell of rotting food and general filth hit me even before I stepped over the threshold.  My eyes automatically darted to the hallway, toward the bathroom where my mother had died.  A cold finger traveled up my spine. 

“Have a seat,” Benton ordered, creaking his way heavily into a peeling metal chair.  The cracked table in front of him held a half empty bottle of Olde English. 

“I’ll stand,” I said, backing against a wall to be as far away from him as possible. 

Benton looked me over.  He wasn’t completely wasted.  There was a certain shrewd glint in his eyes. 

“Guess the boys are too good to come pay their respects, eh?”

“You think that’s why I’m here?  To pay you some fucking respect?”

He straightened.  His lip turned up in a sneer.   “That’s how this is gonna go?  Your mom dies and you figure you can roll in here as if you ever gave half a shit and give me attitude?  Well if that’s the case you just fuck right off.” 

I shook my head.  “I’ve got to tell you something first.” 

He lifted the bottle to his lips and slurped as he swallowed.  For a man who’d just lost his wife of twenty-seven years, he didn’t seem especially heartsick.   He put the bottle down with a thud. 

“Then tell me,” he said as if he was already bored with the situation, bored with my presence. 

I almost just spit out a couple of terse lines about how his meal ticket was finished and good riddance forever to him and his miserable loneliness. 

Instead I grabbed the empty chair that my mother had probably sat in thousands of times, turned it backward and straddled the seat, leveling him with a glare while he stared at me with a slack expression. 

“You have no family,” I informed him. “The three of us were lucky to make it out of here alive and there will never be forgiveness for what you’ve done.  Never.  I don’t forgive Mom either.  But it was your fault she ended up this way.”

He snorted.  “What kind of trash you going on about?  That woman never met a needle she didn’t like and I did what I could with her.” 

My hands wanted to grab his smug skull by the ears and bash it right into the table.  I took a deep breath.  “Yeah, you’re a real big fucking man.  Beating your wife bloody whenever the mood struck you and shooting her up with garbage so you could keep her under your thumb.”

Benton shook his head and scratched his chin.  “You got a shit memory, boy.  There was no getting between Maggie and her junk.  Whenever I tried she’d come at me, claws swinging.  See this old gash on the side of my face?  That was a reward for trying to cut Maggie off.” 

“You brutal, lying fuck.  That’s your story?  That you were forced to love her half to death with your fists?”  I chuckled without humor.  “Must be why you had to batter her unconscious when she was seven months pregnant, almost killing us all.” 

A weird look crossed his face.  If I didn’t know him better I’d say it was guilt.  But no guilt lived in there.  Guilt required a soul. 

“And what about us?”  I asked ominously. 

His mouth twitched.  “What the fuck, Cord?  What the hell do you want from me?”

“Nothing.  I just want you to know that you’re worse than dead to the only blood you’ve got left walking this earth.  So you sit here in your filth and you choke on that for a while and then let it sink in that there aren’t any more resources coming your way.  And yeah, I’m talking about what you’ve managed to claw out of Deck’s palm.  You see, I’ve got a pretty good idea what you’ve been threatening him with and it’s done. 
You’re done!
It’s over.”