Page 15 of Brick

Eight

Same night…

The trash bagthumped against the side of the dumpster as Betsey tossed it in. She wrinkled her nose at the sour smell and brushed her hands over her work apron. The dinner rush was well over, and the diner was empty save for her, Moses, and a young teenage couple on a date. Her pocket had a nice pile of tips, and she was eager to get home and add more to her stash. Brick had made his declaration only a day ago, and with the growing amount of her hidden savings, she was itching to start a new life. She was conflicted about leaving her mother and siblings but had no trouble imagining a life without her father.

“I’ll build you a kingdom and a castle and make you a queen.” Brick’s words resonated in her mind and she shivered, remembering the hungry look on his handsome face. Maybe he would help her mom and brothers as well. She closed her eyes and prayed for patience. “Not too much longer. Lord have mercy, not too much longer.”

The chugging sound of a motorcycle hit her ears, and her heart jumped with joy. It fell flat when she saw who rounded the corner of the diner. Deuce pulled up close, blocking her path to the diner’s back door.

“You seen Brick or Walrus?”

Betsey raised her chin at the rude tone. “No, I ain’t seen ’em.”

“You sure?”

Betsey took a good look at Deuce’s face. A knot of fear bloomed in her middle, and her nerves flamed to high alert. His dilated eyes showed no color and darted around frantically. He was breathing heavy and sweating even though he wore only a white T-shirt and jeans. Blood covered his shoulder, and his club cut was missing, which was unheard of for a Dragon Runner. She glanced down and spotted the gun tucked into the front of his pants. He’s high, out of his mind. High and hurt and dangerous.

“I said are you sure, bitch!” Deuce jumped off his bike and let it crash on its side. His yell coupled with the sound of the bike hitting the hard gravel shattered Betsey’s trance, and she made a run for the kitchen door. Deuce grabbed the back of her uniform and jerked her back. The dress tore, and Betsey lost her footing. Her back hit the ground, and the impact cut off her scream as the breath was knocked from her.

“Fuckin' bitch!” Deuce straddled her body, lifted his fist, and drove it into her face. Betsey both felt and heard her nose break as her head shot to the side. White noise roared in her ears, and the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth.

Fight back,her brain screamed. Fight him! Get him off you! But her arms weren’t listening to her commands. Deuce reared back and hit her again. He ripped the front of her dress to the waist, exposing her plain white bra. No! She struggled, but her body wouldn’t obey.

“Goddamn cunt. Think you’re too good for me, doncha? Fuckin’ bitch got her nose up in the air all the time. You ain’t nothin’ special. You’re a fuckin’ cunt only good for one thing.”

He opened his pocket knife and cut open the thick material, freeing Betsey’s breasts. This isn’t happening. Betsey cried out, but only a gurgle came from her bloody mouth. Please, God, no! Deuce pulled up her skirt, and her hips burned where he tore her panties from her body. She tried to close her legs tight, but he forced them open. No, no, no, no! Somebody, help me! He pulled the gun from his front, opened his jeans, and jerked them down. Then he spit in his hand and fisted his growing cock. “I been waitin’ for this moment a long fuckin’ time.”

“Betsey, what’s takin’ you so long?” Moses came out the back door of the diner and froze. “What the hell are you doin’?”

“Fuck!” Deuce exploded in a panic and jerked the gun up. The sharp crack of the hammer coming down echoed through the wooded area. Moses grunted once and fell.

“Oh my God, was that a gunshot?” The panicked shout came from the other side of the diner. A young couple appeared around the corner, and Deuce fired in their direction. They screamed and ran into the parking lot. “Oh shit, he’s got a gun! Someone call the cops!”

Betsey could barely see Deuce’s face with her swelling eyes, but she could sense the frustration radiating from him in waves. He cursed as he climbed off her limp body and forced his hard dick in his pants. She knew he only stopped because it was just a matter of minutes before the police would be after him. He stood over her and pointed a finger at her face. “This ain’t over, bitch. I’m comin’ back for you.”

Betsey lay there until the loud rev of his bike faded into the distance. Pain finally hit her, and her body burned with it. Carefully, she rolled to her side and looked at Moses’s still form. Tears of grief for the older man filled her eyes and her nose throbbed. She clutched her ruined clothes to herself as she forced herself up. Her movements were stiff, but through sheer willpower, she got to her feet and staggered over to where the cook lay.

“Moses?” Her throat clenched at the man’s name in hopes of any response, but the gaping wound in his chest squashed any chance he was still alive. Betsey wished she could collapse right there next to him, but she had to keep going. The diner was now empty of patrons, and the only phone was in the tiny office, which was locked. Thankfully, Moses had trusted Betsey to know where he hid the keys. Little by little, she stumbled her way in and sat in the wooden school chair near the card table that Moses used for a desk. She picked up the receiver of the boxy kitchen phone and painfully spun the dial to call the sheriff’s office. The phone rang and rang until someone answered.

“Sheriff’s office,” a breathless young female voice came on the line. “This is Molly. What can I do for you?”

Betsey licked at the dried blood that coated her lips. “This is Betsey over at Moses’s Diner, and we need help.”

Molly squeaked, “I ain’t got no one here. All the deputies are out with the sheriff heading to the bikers’ place up on the bluff. Said there’s something bad happened up there, and they all need to go.”

Betsey’s head swam. Brick. Lord have mercy, Brick! “Moses got shot. I’m sure he’s dead. I got… um… beat up, and I’m hurt bad. Ain’t no one there?”

The phone speaker crackled as Molly spoke. “My daddy said I had to stay here and answer the phones. Oh, Lord in Heaven, did you just say Moses is dead?”

Betsey teetered on the edge of the chair and had to catch herself from falling over. “Yes. Deuce Cahill shot him. I really need help. Can’t you get someone? Anyone?”

“My daddy got mad at me last time I drove his car, ’cause I’m only thirteen and I ain’t supposed to do that yet, but he didn’t say nothin ’bout me helpin’ with emergencies. We got one squad car left out front. I’ll get the keys for it and come get you. Daddy said I’m supposed to radio him if there’s a problem, but Mama says sometimes it’s best to ask forgiveness instead ’a permission. You hang tight. I’m on the way.”

Betsey heard the line click off and let the receiver drop back in its metal cradle. Grief struck her hard for her gentle boss still lying outside, but her thoughts moved quickly to what the young girl had said. Something was happening with the Dragon Runners, something bad, and Betsey had no way of finding out if it involved Brick. Visions of him lying in the open with a bleeding bullet hole in his chest haunted her. A cry of hysteria and sorrow burst from her mouth, and she let the tears fall, leaving clean tracks down her face. She allowed a few minutes of heartache and then pulled herself together enough to go outside. Still weeping, she took one of the picnic tarps Moses kept in the pantry and covered his body.

“May the Lord bless you and keep you,” she whispered as she covered the man’s face.

A blaring siren caught her ear. It got louder and louder as the patrol car made its way closer. Betsey saw the car jump the curb and take out two bushes as it came to the back of the diner. A figure cranked down the window, and a dark head of curly hair popped out.

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