Page 40 of Rolling Thunder

“People are asking for you,” he said. “What are you doing in this shit hole when you could be making a thousand dollars a night?”

Her mouth felt like it was full of cobwebs and her stomach full of ice. All he had to do was advance on her and the bottom dropped out of her world. But it all seemed so clear to her in a second. She’d made her break! The farm was afloat. She’d sat in this very hallway and listened to Bill tell her she deserved a good life here. She was no longer desperate enough to fall back into Trent’s clutches.

“I’d rather fucking starve than go back to the club,” she said with anger that surprised even her. “You should leave,” she added.

The ice in her belly was spreading. She knew better than to talk to Trent like that. She was bluffing. Like she did when she didn’t want a horse to think it had intimidated her. Except no horse had ever scared her the way Trent scared her.

“What did you say?” His tone was murderous.

“You heard me.” She prayed for Bill to decide to come to the barn.

Trent grabbed her arm hard enough to make her yelp and shook her. She needed to make eye contact with him, stare him down, try to be something other than what she’d always been. But when push literally came to shove, she was exactly what she’d always been. She was fourteen years old the first time he had imposed his will on her. And it was as if she rewound time and became that girl now. She stared at the dirt floor, trying not to cry.

“We need you back at the club. Your mother needs you. And the cops are sniffing around. Asking questions. I know I can count on you to keep that pretty mouth shut, right, Kayla?”

“No,” she said immediately. What she’d meant was that she wouldn’t come back to the club. But as soon as she said it, she realized how it had sounded. No, she wouldn’t promise to keep her mouth shut to the police. And would she anyway? If she had a chance to bury Trent…maybe she should! Whatever she’d meant when she blurted it out, it was the absolute wrong thing to say to him.

“No?” He released her so suddenly, she stumbled and had to grab the wall not to fall on her head. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

“I heard your boyfriend is in the news. You want to be in the news, Kayla? That would be great exposure for the club, actually. Does he know what you do at night? Bet he doesn’t want that splashed all over the gossip sites.”

She stared at his boots, tried not to vomit on them. That would definitely make things worse than they already were.

“Want to see the video again?” he asked, scrolling through his phone.

“No,” she said. He clicked on it anyway, holding it up. “No!” she screamed, hitting the phone out of his hand. His response was instantaneous. He backhanded her across the face, hard enough that she was stunned. Her ears rang and stars flashed before her eyes. She stumbled backward against the doorway of the nearest stall, and he stalked up to her, grabbing her by the hair.

“This is what’s going to happen, Kiki,” he said in her face. Her stage name hit like an angry fish flopping in her stomach, slashing its tail and threatening to send the vomit up. She had no more nerve to try to fight him. It hadn’t gotten her anywhere anyway.

“You’re gonna come back and do your show. You’re gonna come back so I can keep an eye on you. I’d hate to have to beat the hell out of an old man.”

“You leave Bill out of this. He’s got nothing to do with it.”

“He sure acted like he had something to do with it. You might want to tell him to mind his own fucking business. And just remember, if you want to go talking to the cops, I’ve got this video waiting for them. I’ve got all the videos that the cops or the gossip sites could ever hope to have. So you decide, Kiki. Do you want this old man to go down for you? You want your new boyfriend to go down for you? Or are you gonna come back home where you belong?”

She sagged forward, clutching herself. The tears were coming. She couldn’t stop them. He’d just found a way to threaten everybody she loved, every good thing she’d built for herself. He was capable of all of it, she knew. He was capable of putting Canyon Bill in the hospital out of spite. She couldn’t let that happen.

He left her there in a heap on her barn floor, crying into her knees. After a while, she managed to drag herself up to get a bottle she’d stashed in her tack room. Through bleary eyes, she saw another figure in the barn hallway and cringed behind a tack trunk until she realized it was Bill. She followed his gaze to the bottle still in her hand. It was almost empty, and she was absolutely sauced.

“Saw the light on. It’s late. You all right?” Bill asked.

She raised the bottle. “Never better.”

“Why don’t you call it a night, Kayla.” It wasn’t really a suggestion.

“Why? Being drunk never stopped you from doing anything.”

He grimaced a little but didn’t retort. He came closer. “You know, if you’re in a hole, the best thing to do is stop digging,” he said, holding out his hand to her. She stood up indignantly without his help, but as soon as she did, the barn tilted violently sideways, and she spun through space. When he caught her, it doused her anger. He draped her arm over his shoulder and held it there with a firm grip on her hand.

He half dragged her back up the driveway to her house. He helped her collapse into her bed, and she felt him pulling off her boots.

“You gonna fuck me too?” she slurred, barely able to hold her eyes open. He stood very still, staring at her.

“I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that again, Kayla. You sound like your good-for-nothin’ momma. You’re better than her, and don’t you forget it!” The menace in his voice was real, and it gave her pause. He yanked off her other boot, tossed it on the floor.

“You listen here,” he said, pointing a finger at her. “You’re shit-faced, and you probably don’t know what the hell you’re saying anyway. When you sober up, come talk to me. You ain’t gotta go out like this.”

The fog of booze overtook her. He loomed over her and shook her slightly.

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