“Yeah, but they go together, they’re all about the same thing.” I defend.
“My mom gave them to me, basically told me to pray because I was a piece of shit and hopefully the Lord could bring some good out of me. I pray when I feel like I have nowhere else to go, but other than that it makes me feel...shitty, like I’m not good enough.”
My chest aches for him, hearing how his mother tried to cure him with religion, keeping him from seeing what religion really is.
“Your mom sounds like a—”
“Bitch?” Zeek finishes.
“I was going to say irrational.” I blink.
“I think it’s safe to say you and I see things differently, babe,” Zeek states, then pauses.
“I got mommy problems, and you got daddy issues. No wonder the sex is off the charts,” he continues, and I chuckle.
He shoves a forkful of food into his mouth, his leg stretching out and kicking a Geometry book. It’s thick, and I’m sure bruises will pop up all over mine and Zeek’s body within the next twenty-four hours.
“How’s your arm?” I point at his arm that was shot.
“It hurts. A lot.”
“Think the Devil’s Dust will have a doctor to look at it?”
He plays with his food, deep in thought, but he doesn’t respond.
“You nervous about seeing your brother?”
He shrugs.
“I wouldn’t blame him if he turned us away, I definitely deserve it.” He looks up at me, and tucks a hair behind my ear. “I just hope he doesn’t turn you away.”
I grab onto his wrist. “I’m not going anywhere without you, Zeek, you can’t leave me.” My heart beats off rhythm, scared he’s going to leave me at the Devil’s Dust so he can go take care of business.
His face tightens, his jaw ticking as his eyes look into mine. “I’m not going anywhere without you, Jillian. I’d never leave you behind.” He pulls me into the crook of his body, and kisses my head.
He leans across the carpet, and grabs his jeans. He fishes out the cross, and places it in the palm of my hand.
“Take this—”
“Zeek, no, this is yours.”
“Take it, I want you to have it.” Sliding my fingers over the shiny cross I peer up at him under my lashes.
“You sure?”
He nods. “Yeah, think of me or some shit.” His mouth lifts in the corner.
“I will.”
“It’s an antique one, it’s real silver. My mother told me an Italian man made it for his daughter who was set to marry some rich guy. On her wedding day a man dressed in rags plowed through the church doors declaring his love for the daughter. He was poor, and could offer nothing but his love. He was the town’s scoundrel. He stole, and caused chaos around the small town. The daughter stepped away from the altar, handed the rosary beads back to her father and ran off with the diamond in the rough.”
My thumb presses along the sharp edges of it, the bite of its point piercing the pad of my finger.
“Careful, it can cause some damage if someone really wanted to.”
“That’s a beautiful story. Is it true?”
“I’m not sure. I do know nowadays the only pendants you get with rosary beads are plastic, that this one is old and handmade. So it makes me think the story is true.”
Zeek grabs my chin, his eyes finding mine. He’s the scoundrel, and I’m the daughter running from the life she was taught to live. It’s us.
“I love it.” I press my lips to his, clasping my hands around the first real gift Zeek ever gave me.
***
THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS are filled with sex, fast food, and us naked most of the time. We bonded, laughed, cried, and slept a lot. It was like we were back in my house in Nevada. We knew the world was circling the house, waiting to tear us apart piece by piece. We just wanted to make sure we were strong, and ready to take on any challenge it was contemplating throwing at us.
One thing is for sure, I gotta start pulling my weight. Zeek has been doing everything while I was mentally checked out and working through my shit. I owe it to him. “To get my hands clean, I gotta get them dirty.” Isn’t that what he said?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Zeek
A few days later
TODAY IS THE DAY, we have to leave. We can’t hold out here anymore, Paw needs it for running business, and we gotta face the storm eventually. Sitting at the edge of the bed I glance over at Jillian, she’s fast asleep, her mouth open and hair everywhere. She’s adorably geeky. Leaning over I give her a shake.
“Hey, get up.” She groans, rolling onto her back. I can’t help but fondle her bare tit. I bite at my bottom lip, wanting to take her badly this morning.
“Why?”
“We need to see if that car is gone.”
Yawning, she sits up on her elbows. Tangling my fingers into her hair, I bring her head back to look up at me.
“Do we have to?”