Junkyard Dog (2 page)

I
’ve never been to an A&W restaurant before.
Spotting one down the road from the hotel, the twins want to try something new.
The menu is split between A&W and Kentucky Fried Chicken. I end up with a
burger and coleslaw.

“How was spending time with your aunt?” I ask them
as we sit at a small table in the nearly empty fast food restaurant.

Cricket shrugs, causing her light brown hair to
fall on her face. She wraps the strands behind her ear. “It’s loud there.”

I glance at Chipper sitting to my side. He has my
blond hair. Both kids have my dark brown eyes. I don’t see much of their father
in them, which is fine. He isn’t much of a looker. What he lacks in appearance
and personality, he made up for with his family’s wealth.

Toby Eddison isn’t ugly, just plain. Everything
about him exudes ordinary. Toby is the complete opposite of a man like Angus
Hayes. One disappears into the crowd while the other looms over it before sending
everyone screaming in terror.

“What about you?” I ask Chipper.

“Aunt Honey cried today.”

“She has too many kids,” Cricket announces.

“Four isn’t too many,” I say. “I planned on having
more.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Cricket asks, challenging
me.

My daughter is full of bluster, just like me.
Chipper is more laidback. Both of them are handling the move well, but starting
school will likely put them in bad moods.

“Twins are a lot of work,” I say, stealing one of
her fries.

Cricket smiles. “Double the dirty diapers.”

“Double the barf,” Chipper adds.

“Double the hugs,” I say, cuddling my boy and
winking at my girl. “I’ll get you later.”

Cricket smiles wider. “Is your boss mean like Aunt
Honey said?”

“He’s a jerk, but I’m not scared.”

“Me either,” Cricket says, thinking fear is the
worst thing a person can feel.

“Do we have to stay at Aunt Honey’s again
tomorrow?” Chipper asks.

“Yeah. I need to be at the office by eight.”

“We’re old enough to stay at the hotel alone,”
Cricket offers and then adds when I roll my eyes. “Add our ages together and
we’re eighteen. We could even vote.”

Chipper laughs with a mouth full of burger. “I’m
voting for the guy with the best hair.”

I kiss his head. “The law doesn’t add your ages. If
I leave you alone, the po-po might get involved.”

Cricket narrows her eyes. I think she’s catching
onto how I always use the law as an excuse. I’m never the bad guy! It’s the
coppers!

“Soon you’ll be in school, and we’ll get a house.
Things will be ironed out in a few weeks.”

Nodding, Cricket returns to eating. I know she’s
nervous about school. They’ve gone to the same private school all of their
lives. We’d also lived in the same place. Everything was the same for so long,
and now nothing is anymore.

“You’ll like it here soon,” I say, more to reassure
myself than them.

Chipper nods. Cricket doesn’t. They’re tense after
spending time in my sister’s tension-filled house. Life for Honey is very
different than my life. Her husband crushes her more every day. Her kids act
out, and she’s clearly overwhelmed. Throughout all of the bullshit, she smiles
and claims to be happy.

We were never close growing up. She was too passive
and played life too safe. As the middle child, I had to be loud to be noticed.
I took what I needed, or I wouldn’t get anything. Most of all, I’ve faced my
family’s crappy genetics the way Honey never could.

For generations, we’ve been duped. Used and
discarded. My family gravitates toward bad people. Every relationship in my
family is the same. One is an asshole; the other is their victim. My family
members are always the victims. We can’t help wanting toxic people. This
behavior killed my little brother Peat. It also drove my mom to an early grave.
Now, the need to love the unlovable looks ready to destroy Honey.

Acceptance was the key to overcoming. I know I want
bad men. I’m also drawn to friends who use and neglect me. Unlike Honey, I
never married an asshole. I refuse to stay with anyone I con myself into
thinking I love. I choose to be the asshole, rather than the victim. I take what
I need and then leave before the tables turn.

Toby Eddison gave me twins even though he didn’t
want kids. His wealthy parents will ensure Chipper and Cricket can afford any
college they want. When the Eddison grandparents die one day, the twins will
receive a nice chunk of their estate.

These days, a new grandchild rules the estate.
Sensing the tides turning, I decided to bail on the train wreck waiting to
happen. I hadn’t allowed myself to be shit on by Toby’s recent bride. No need
to beg for crumbs when I can take my kids and start fresh.

Angus Hayes is an asshole, but I know how to deal
with them. I don’t fear bad tempers or big mouths. When Honey’s douche husband
tried to put me in my place, I told him where to go. The kids might hate the
hotel, but they like it better than remaining in that house. They already know
the difference between being the asshole and victim. Honey will always be the
latter.

I plan to raise my children to take what they want
from life. The Wilburn family has known only misery, but the twins will put an
end to that history.

I
arrive for my first work day with a queasy stomach
from eating too many crappy hotel scrambled eggs. I sip weak coffee from my
“Best Mom” coffee mug and wait for Angus Hayes to arrive at the office.

I managed to get the kids up at six. After we
finish eating breakfast, I drop them off at Honey’s house. My sister looks like
absolute crap and the purple lump on her forehead doesn't help. Honey really
isn’t a morning person.

Even cold and nauseous, I feel great while sitting
in my car in the Hayes, Inc. parking lot. A new start always invigorates me.
Once I get my first paycheck, I’ll put down a deposit on an apartment and get
the twins settled. Life will be great. No worries. Anyone who says differently
needs a swift kick in the ass.

Hayes nearly crashes his ugly, black monster truck
into my gold Hyundai Tucson. I suspect he’s trying to intimidate me. As a
mother of a boy, I’d never want to stigmatize an entire gender, yet men are
stupid.

I climb out of the car and wave at him as if he
hadn’t behaved like an asshole a minute earlier.

“Morning, boss,” I say, carrying my bag lunch and
coffee mug.

Hayes isn’t a morning person either. He glares at
me, and I wonder if he’s forgotten who I am. A moment passes before he walks to
the front door.

“If you work out, I’ll give you a key.”

“Okay.”

His dark eyes narrow menacingly, and I suspect he
isn’t a fan of my morning peppiness. I smile at his irritation as he opens the
door.

“I didn’t know if there was a dress code,” I say,
following him inside. “I figured since I’ll be moving around all these dusty
boxes and organizing things that jeans would be fine.”

“You’re not moving shit.”

Hayes stomps to a small room connected to the front
office. I follow him because I don’t know what else to do. Leaning around his
wide shoulder to see what he’s doing, I realize we’re in a break room. He hits
the button on the coffee pot.

“I like my fucking coffee black.”

I study Hayes and find him quite attractive. His
sleepy eyes even make him appear soft and a little bit vulnerable. His jaw
remains tight, and I realize he wants me to respond to his coffee detail.

“Most men do,” I say, stepping back. “Do you want
some now?”

“Yes. Make it fucking strong.”

“Then what do I do?”

“Answer the fucking phone.”

“What about the office mess?” I ask, washing out
the pot in a small sink.

“Don’t fucking touch anything.”

“Why?”

Hayes walks away but hollers from his office door.
“Because I fucking said so.”

His voice is so loud it rattles my bones. I assume the
big sound is a result of his giant lungs, and he can’t really be blamed for his
weird anatomy.

“Was your father a giant man?” I ask when bringing
him coffee.

“Don’t fucking talk to me right now,” he says
without looking up from his paperwork.

“When is my lunch period? Do I get thirty minutes
or an hour? Also what about breaks?”

Hayes lifts his head and glares at me. I know he’s
accustomed to people running in terror from this devil mean expression. I’ve
seen worse from the twins.

“Leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone,” he growls when I
don’t back down.

“Okay, but I’m taking your non-answers as meaning I
can choose my lunch and break times.”

Before he can complain, I walk out of the room. The
front desk is nearly as bad as Hayes’s office in regards to post-it notes. On
the computer monitor, I find a password for logging in. I take the post-it and
crumble it up. Once I log into the account, I change the password. I don’t plan
on going anywhere soon.

By the time my first break comes along, I’ve
organized the front desk, brought Hayes five cups of coffee, and brewed a
second pot.

After eating a snack and calling Honey to check on
the kids, I decide to explore the office.

One door opens to a closet filled with weapons. I
look over the shotguns and semi-automatic rifles. Glancing at Hayes’s office, I
hear him bitching at someone for being a brain dead fuck-twat.

Leaving the closet, I find another room with a door
labeled “meeting room.” There are no chairs inside, and the folding table is
against the wall. I assume Hayes doesn’t schedule many meetings.

Outside, I spot a few bullet holes in the
building’s front wall. Running my fingers over them, I can’t imagine anyone
taking a shot at Hayes’s place. Then again, suicidal tendencies happen to
everyone occasionally.

The office sits between a Waffle House and an old
Victorian house. I laugh at the thought of Hayes living in the house. Back in
the office, I hear him still bitching at someone, but I sense it’s a different
person.

Behind the building is a large, muddy yard. At some
point long ago, this office was a house. Hayes turned the house into a
bunker-style office, and the front yard into a wide gravel covered parking lot.
He left the backyard to turn to mush. Not a single blade of grass remains.

I’m bored out of my mind by the time Hayes appears
from his office.

“I’m going to lunch. Come with me and bring
something to write on.”

Eager to do something, I grab my purse and a pad of
paper. Hayes doesn’t wait for me, and his long strides put a lot of distance
between us as we walk next door to the Waffle House. He’s already sitting at
the counter when I enter.

“Get what you want on my dime but don’t annoy me with
how you feel about food.”

“What about how the food feels about me?”

Hayes refuses to acknowledge my comment. He stares
at our middle-aged waitress wearing a lot of experience on her worn face.

“This is Candy,” Hayes says to Donna.

The waitress sizes me up. “I knew a Candy when I
was growing up. She was a diseased whore.”

“You know what’s funny?” I say, taking the menu. “I
knew a Donna growing up, and she collected used panties to sniff while
masturbating.”

“How is that funny?” she asks.

“Well, your name is Donna.”

Frowning at me, she turns away to get me a cup of
coffee.

“Don’t piss off Donna,” Hayes says without looking
at me. “She will spit in your fucking food.”

“Does she own a car?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I’ll slash her tires. I think that’s worse than a
loogie in my food.”

Hayes grins. “You sure have a fucking mouth on
you.”

“Said the guy who referred to someone an ‘asshole
stuffed with twat peanuts’ today.”

“Well, he is.”

“Is there anyone you do like?”

“Donna brings me coffee and knows how I like my
hash browns,” Hayes says to the returning waitress.

“Wants them almost burned just like he did the
first time he came in here fifteen years ago.”

“Ugh, get a room you two,” I mutter.

Donna glares at me, but I ignore her and order a
chicken sandwich.

“Don’t burn my hash browns. I like mine normal like
normal people.”

After Donna walks away, Hayes studies me. “You seem
to forget how I’m your employer and so acting like a mouthy bitch isn’t a smart
way to keep your job.”

“Your threat would be more convincing if you
weren’t stuck with temps who left post-it notes declaring you’re the devil and she
hopes you get sucked back into hell.”

Hayes rolls his eyes. “Those temps were fucking
twats.”

“But were they twat peanuts?” I ask, grinning.

“No, they weren’t that bad.”

Enjoying when Hayes acts human-like, I try to keep
the conversation going. “Do you have any family that’ll drop by unannounced?”

“Are you planning on doing inappropriate shit at
the office?”

“No, I’m just curious, and this seemed a casual way
to ask that wouldn’t imply I want to be your friend.”

“Well done then.”

“So are you married? Dating anyone serious? Have a
few baby mamas around town?”

“I don’t believe women are my equals so I will
never be in a serious relationship with one of them.”

I nearly laugh at the sincerity behind his bullshit
comment especially after how respectful he was to his precious waitress.

“They can’t be your equals because they’re women? I
ask. “Or because you’re such a huge asshole that no one else can compete?”

“Don’t be offended,” he says, clearly wanting me to
be offended. “Women can do whatever the fuck they want. Just not with me.”

“I’m not offended. What do I care what you think
about women? Now if I were your mother, I’d be very disappointed, young man.”

“My mother is dead.”

Hayes’s tone tells me he wants me to shut up, and I
immediately know I must keep the conversation going. “I’m sorry. My mother is
dead too. Is your dad dead?”

“No.”

“Mine is. I guess that means I win the saddest
child contest. Do you have any siblings?”

“No. I was a miracle child born when my parents
were in their late forties.”

“Ah, miracle child. Explains a lot.”

Hayes smirks. “Don’t be jealous.”

“I was the middle child, so that makes me the one
my parents planned and yet they paid the least to. I have two, attention-hog
siblings. They bitched and moaned all fucking day and night. Honey had chronic
headaches that made her whine more than any human has ever whined ever. My
brother Peat was super clumsy and always injuring his balls. He also masturbated
constantly, causing him to bang around his injured balls. Let’s just say that
led to more self-pity than even ten teenage boys should accomplish. I think
knowing my family history should help you understand why your crap doesn’t faze
me.”

“Your family sounds horrible.”

“My family could kick your ass, dickface, so watch
yourself.”

“Your parents are dead. I doubt they’ll be much help
in a fight.”

“My brother’s dead too, but Honey can take a punch
clearly,” I say and then stare really mean at him. Hayes nearly burst into
giggles, but I don’t relent. “I’m the one you need to watch out for. I’m one
reason my brother’s balls were always sore. I kicked him in the crotch weekly.
I always go ball-shot.
Every time.
Even if the guy gets ready and covers
his balls, I’ll run behind him and nail them that way. You should really
consider wearing a giant cup to work.”

Hayes lets out a loud, ruckus laugh that makes me
feel like I’ve tamed a beast. As exhilarating as it is to get him to loosen up,
I’m more concerned by how appealing I find his smile. The last thing I need is
to fall for my boss and fuck up the best job I’ve had.