Page 44 of The Auction
He shook his head. “Hadn’t heard. Haven’t heard much of anything, really.”
I didn’t pay attention to the conversation as I was scrolling on my phone. My allotted time was running out and I had no clue what I was going to do then. Maybe Creed would let me head to bed early. That wasn’t rude, was it? They probably had deeper shit they wanted to talk about.
“So how did you two meet?” Tank asked, taking another long draw on his bottle. “She-eet, I love a good meet-cute.”
“I was in Riverbend looking to buy a horse,” Creed said. “We met and started dating. We have the same outlook on things and marriage suited us.”
Props to me for not coughingbullshitinto my fist.
It was unlikely Tank would meet anyone in town or talk to them about Creed, so I wasn’t worried about our stories not matching.
What I was worried about was the way Tank kept looking around the house and telling Creed what a lucky sonofabitch he was to have just fallen into all this prime shit.
Not once. Not twice. Like six or seven times.
“Damn, Chief,” he said, his voice a little slurry as he repeated himself. Again. “You got some land, a house. Some fine pussy-”
Creed instantly shot to his feet and was across the room, taking the bottle out of his friend’s hand.
“That’s enough.”
Tank raised his hands in surrender. “Dude, chill out. I was just fucking complimenting you.”
“No, I don’t think I will chill out,” he looked over his shoulder at me and lifted his chin. “Go to bed. I’ll be in a little later.”
I nodded and got off the couch. Strategic retreat before things got out of hand sounded like a good idea to me.
“Night, Tank,” I said sweetly, as I walked by him. “Nice to meet a friend of Creed’s.”
That sounded wifely, I thought. Then I got out of Dodge before Tank made any more comments related to my pussy.
I changed quickly into the least sexy pajamas I could think of. Baggy shorts, a sports bra, because I wasn’t going commando, and a long sleeved, oversized t-shirt I’d pulled out of Creed’s closet that wouldn’t show any skin.
My clothes went into the hamper he kept inside the adjacent bathroom and I stared back at the spacious room with the king sized bed. I could get into it for now, then just move when I heard Creed come to bed.
But, what if I fell asleep?
No, the safe option was to just set up camp on the floor now. There was plenty of room on the other side of the room, between the closet and the bed. I pulled the duvet off and one pillow. He only had two.
Who only had two pillows on a king sized bed? My twin upstairs had four of varying sizes, depending on my mood.
I laid the blanket out on the large woven rug that didn’t quite cover the hardwood floor. Doubled it up to give me some cushion. Then crashed on the floor, my head on the pillow and the top part of the duvet thrown on top of me as a blanket.
I’d slept in worse situations. There had been a period of time in my early teens, years after my mom left us, where I started to understand Herb’s nature and thought I needed to run away.
No fewer than three times, I’d gotten as far as aboutthirty miles away from the farm. Far enough that I had to camp overnight. Once, I’d been able to dodge him for two nights. But he always sent the sheriff out for me, and, well… I was never as determined as I needed to be.
The one time I’d made it as far as the highway, a trucker had pulled over to the side of the road and asked me where I was going.
I’d told him my dad was coming to pick me up and he drove off.
That could have ended badly, but it didn’t.
There were times I used to wonder what might have happened if I’d gotten in that trucker’s cab. But things just weren’t that bad at home where I’d felt I needed to take the risk.
Me running away was more of a statement. So Herb would know I was not happy with the current situation. Usually after I did it, I would get grounded to my room for a few weeks, but then after that he might let me get a library card.
Always a little give and take.
