Page 1 of Rival
Prologue
Clayborn Hughes
~ 4 years ago ~
Bang.
Cringing, I wrench my eyes from the television to glare at the kitchen.What in the fuck is she doin’ in there?There are a few minutes of silence and my shoulders start to relax before I hear a soft scrape and a clang ring out like she’s just dropped a handful of silverware into the sink.
My pulse pounds when the faucet turns on immediately after, and I grind my jaw. Counting down from ten, I inhale slowly while I hope she turns it off soon. She fucking doesn’t. I don’t think it’s too much to ask for some goddamn peace and quiet after I’ve been hauling metal all fucking day to feed that little bitch.
Now, she’s draining my well by not shutting off the fucking water. Wearing out my pump, which will probably need replacing here in the next year or so.Fuck!I can’t afford that kind of repair right now.
Slamming down the foot of my recliner, I mute the TV and cradle my beer in my hand between my knees. All I can do is focus on the door to the kitchen, willing the incessant noise to juststop!
The rushing of water is muffled through the walls, but with the volume off, it’s all I can fucking hear. I’m about to snap when my phone rings.
Huffing in annoyance, I keep my eyes locked on her location in the other room while I swipe to answer. “Yeah?” It’s not much of a greeting, but most people who call know I’m not one to have friendly chit chat.
“Gonna come over. I had to work late and those teens next door are havin’ a party or somethin’. Got beer?”
My eyes wander around the living room.Seems picked up enough, I suppose. Not that Griffin or his brother Corbin ever care much. “Corb comin’ with?”
“Nah. Wrenched his back cleanin’ out gutters for the wife. She’s got him laid out on the couch with his feet propped up. Doesn’t help that the kids are extra squirrelly tonight. As much as I love ‘em, I need some quiet. Your place is always quiet.”
My eyes dart to the kitchen again. Pressing my bottle to my lips, I guzzle down the rest of my beer and open the extra one next to me. “You can come. Don’t got much beer, so why don’t you grab some on the way?” Another scrape of her foot on the floor and I change my mind. “Or a bottle of somethin’. Don’t gotta work tomorrow.”
With a small laugh, he agrees. “Alright. You don’t mind me comin’ without Corb?”
“Nope. Don’t expect me to entertain ya, but you’re welcome to put your feet up here for the night.” When I hear the door to the refrigerator open, I’m on my feet.No way in hell is she going to start cooking at eight o’clock at night.“Door’s open. Just come in when you get here.”
I hang up before he responds, and down the whole bottle of beer I just opened. It hangs between my fingers as I stride to the kitchen, slowly pushing the door open. She’s bent over, head in the fridge and rifling through my food I just bought.
“The hell you doin’?”
Her head hits the top of the opening, and she spins around, eyes wide. “I-I… I thought I could make something to eat. Maybe a grilled cheese?”
Gripping the neck of my empty bottle harder, I narrow my eyes. “It takes you slammin’ cupboards and draggin’ chairs through the kitchen to make a fuckin’ cheese sandwich?”
When she looks around the space like it’ll give her an answer, I get even more annoyed. Edith opens and closes her mouth like a fish, only serving to piss me off more.
“Answer me, girl!”
“S-Sorry. I didn’t mean to be noisy.” I roll my eyes when she starts twisting her fingers together. My daughter is always acting like I’m some fucking asshole for asking questions. Not sure where she got her nerves from; certainly not from that whore who birthed her. That woman was as outspoken as they come. “Do you want one?”
“No, I don’t want a fuckin’ cheese sandwich, and it’s too late for you to be cookin’. I got company comin’ over, so pick this shit up.” I wave at the half loaf of bread on the counter along with a frying pan she set on the stove.
Her eyes follow along with my hand, wincing when it flies past her face. “Can I make something real quick? I promise it won’t take long.”
“No! You should have had somethin’ at dinner!” My irritation skyrockets when she winces again and turns her face away from me. “Stop actin’ like I’m about to hit ya,” I sneer, taking a step closer. “I ain’t gonna hit ya if you pick up this goddamn mess and stop makin’ all this ruckus.”
“Sorry for—”
“Just stop apologizin’ and do what you’re supposed to do. Stop makin’ so much goddamn noise. Stop inhalin’ all the food I get just ‘cuz you’re bored. Juststopbein’ here and give me a little fuckin’ space! I don’t think that’s too much to ask when I’m the one workin’ my ass off to keep food on this table and a roof over your head. Fuckin’ ungrateful lil’ shit!”
My chest is heaving by the time I’m done, all of my pent-up irritation pouring out of me. That whore of a mother dropped her off when she was only a few months old, leaving me and my parents to raise her without help. Wasn’t so bad in the beginning, but my parents went off and fucking died. One right after the other without telling me how to do this shit.
Edith’s been a goddamn nuisance ever since. I did my best with her, but she was always wanting to play and get into things she shouldn’t be touching. Especially outside where I keep all the scrap metal. She was forever trying to mess with repairs I was making and breaking hoses or clamps that made the old equipment useless unless I dropped cash on new parts.
