Page 4 of Hope in his Darkness
Chapter Two
Hope
“Hope, get your assin here.” My dad yells from the living room in our two-bedroom rundown trailer. He sounds drunk and pissed. Two things that weren’t a good combination when it came to my father. My mom left years ago, for greener pastures, my father says. The truth is, she left because when he was drunk and pissed, he was unpredictable at best, violent at worst.
Over the years, I learned ways to get him to calm down, or I avoided him altogether. When I was sixteen, I got an after-school job. I was out of the house most nights until he passed out. I’ve been taking classes at the local community college while working full time until yesterday. Yesterday, my job at the local manufacturing plant laid me and about a hundred other workers off work. Not enough work and too many employees. That’s how I find myself in the middle of the day with my dad, yelling my name.
Walking into the living room, he’s sitting in his usual chair. His hair is stringy on his almost bald head. He has stubble that’s close to a full beard at this point. He’s wearing sweats that look like he’s been wearing them for a week and a white tank top that’s no longer completely white stained from beer and whatever he’s been eating for the last few days. The smell of beer permeates the room. Seeing him like this strengthens my resolve to finish my degree so I can get the hell out of this trailer and away from him.
“Yeah, Dad, what’s up?” I don’t look him in his eyes. I learned early to never look him in the eyes when he’s like this. He takes it as a challenge, so I pick a spot over his head to stare at while I wait for his response.
“Why is your lazy ass still at home?” That is laughable. I’m far from lazy and he knows it. Unlike him, I’ve held down a job the last six years, paying our bills, and making sure we have food to eat. His ass hasn’t had a job since I started working.
“Remember, I told you they laid me off at the manufacturing plant yesterday? I’ve put in some applications but haven’t heard back yet.” I shrug, trying to seem relaxed when I’m actually stressing the fuck out on the inside. I’ve actually been applying for any job in the area. Without my income, we won’t make the lot rent on the trailer, and we definitely won’t have food.
“Bullshit! I don’t believe you. If you think I’m going to support your sorry ass, you’ve got another thing coming. You had better have a job by the end of the day or I’ll find you a job myself. I’m sure some of my buddies would be willing to give you a job.” A spark of fear runs up my spine. His buddies have made it very clear, numerous times, what kind of job they’d like to give me. I want to believe my own father wouldn’t pimp me out, but I wouldn’t put much past him at this point. Right then I knew I needed to get out of the house and be gone as long as possible.
“Don’t worry, I’ll have a job soon, dad. I’ve got to go drop off some more applications. I might not be home in time to make dinner. There’s a frozen pizza you can throw in the oven. Don’t wait up for me.” It’s the best excuse I can come up with at the moment to get out of the house without raising his suspicions.
“Well, what are you standing there for; get your ass in gear. I swear you got your smarts from your momma because you’ve got shit for brains.” I swallow down the fact that I’m a straight-A student and I’ve made the Dean's list every semester since I started college. He doesn’t know I’m going to college though, and I need to keep that a secret until I finish next semester and graduate with my marketing degree. Only once I get my dream job will I throw my diploma in his face as I walk the fuck out of our trailer for good.
Instead, I nod and rush off to my room to grab my jacket and giant purse that has a change of clothes in it. I’ll sleep in my car tonight, maybe even the following night. He’d probably be so drunk he wouldn’t even notice and if he did, I’d just tell him I found a job. As long as I am bringing in money, it will keep him happy. I need to keep him happy for at least another six months. After that I didn’t give a shit if he was happy or not. By then I’ll have my degree, my dream job, and I’d be long gone.
I don’t even bother saying goodbye as I race out the door without a backward glance, swallowing down the tears I refuse to cry. I’ve cried too many tears over the years to last a lifetime because of him. There is no way I’m giving him a single drop more.
Driving around aimlessly for a while, I find myself pulling into Dark Moon, the local bar. It isn’t my typical hideout, but I don’t want to go home, and I can’t afford to waste my gas driving around town, either. There is a big sign on the front door with bright red letters saying, ‘HELP WANTED NO NEEDED!’ I can’t help but giggle as I show the bouncer my driver’s license. Clearly, they are desperate for help. Which means I might be able to snag the job before the end of the night if I am lucky.
“Well, hello there, beautiful.” The bouncer smiles as he glances down at my license. He is a big dude, well over six foot I’d say close to six-six with blonde hair and a goatee. He reminds me of a Viking. His hazel eyes are filled with kindness and mischief.
“Welcome to Dark Moon, Hope, I’m Cole. If you get in there and get bored you just holler my name and I’ll come a-running.” Cole gives me a wink before returning my license, and I can’t stop the smile from touching my lips. I know I’m not much to look at. He probably flirts with all the women who come in, but sometimes it is nice to have someone call you beautiful.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Cole. Do you know who I speak to about applying for the job?” His smile seems to grow into something a little naughtier, if that was even possible.
“Sure thing, sugar. Go right on into the bar and ask for my brother Brody. Don’t let his surly attitude fool you. He’s really a nice guy. Tell him Cole sent you.” Cole reaches for the door handle, and with a, sweeping bow holds it open for me. He is a charmer and oozes sex appeal; I’d need to watch out for him if I got the job.
“Thanks, I’ll be sure to tell him you sent me.” If it got me the job, I’d tell him Santa Claus sent me right at this moment.
Walking into the bar, I confirm how desperate they were for help. Tending the bar is an older gentleman. He is running around like a chicken with its head cut off as he tries to serve everyone. Meanwhile, there is a younger guy, probably mid-twenties, waiting tables.
He captures my attention instantly with his ass looking fine as hell in a pair of tight-fitting Wranglers. The way he moves from table to table, smiling at customers, taking orders, and delivering them is like watching a ballet, only sexier. His hair catches the light whenever he passes under it, and I can make out the short-cropped strawberry blonde layers. As if he senses me, looking at him, his eyes turn toward me staring.
The intensity in his eyes scares me. I feel like prey, as he seems to stalk towards me a frown creasing his brow. His blue eyes shine brightly under the overhead lighting, and they mesmerize me. I feel this pull towards him. This desire to be closer to him, to be held in his arms. I shake my head to clear away the feeling, to no avail. He stops right in front of me, cocking his head to the side. It’s like he is trying to puzzle something out.
“Who are you?” He asks as he leans slightly forward. I can hear him inhale close to my neck before I feel the tickle of the exhale against me, causing my skin to pebble.
“Did you just sniff me? Do I stink or something?” He follows me as I take a step back. He openly peruses my body. His eyes felt like a caress against my skin. Lifting my arms, I check my pits, yep I put on deodorant this morning. It feels like he is undressing me with his eyes, and I have the strong urge to cover myself in certain places.
“I asked you a question. Who? Are? You?” He growls out between his teeth, looking slightly pissed or annoyed. I’m not sure which. Just like with my dad, when he got this way, I avoided direct eye contact. I pick a spot over his shoulder to focus on. If Captain Dickface is going to be an asshole, then so be it.
“I’m Hope. Cole said to talk to a guy named Brody about the job. You him?” I dangle my hand in front of him to shake. Instead of shaking it, he looks down at it with something akin to repulsion as he jerks back away from me. I’m imagining throat punching him repeatedly at this point.
“There’s no job available. Now leave.” He glares at me, his eyes narrow to slits before waving his hand shooing me away. I am ready to tell him to fuck right off when the older guy manning the bar hollers over at us.
“What are you talking about Brody? We ain’t hired anyone yet for the waitress position. Come on over here darlin’. I’m Clay. Ignore my asshole son over there.” With Clay waving me toward him, I glance at Brody, who looks like someone kicked his dog.
“You’re Brody?” I ask the asshole in front of me with my arms crossed over my chest. Forget throat punching. I’m about to dick punch him if he keeps being such an asshole. His eyes narrow in on my abundance of tits peeking out from the top of my tank and I glare at him. If he thinks I am going to swoon all over his fine ass, he had another thing coming. Just because he is hotter than August in Texas doesn’t mean he can be an asshole to me.
