trailer bounced
behind them. Owen flipped on the high beams and they lit up the woods ahead.
Rayanne hoped they were still actually on the path as branches struck the
windshield and the side doors. They hit something in the road and the truck
jittered and swerved. A new wave of expletives rushed from Owen’s mouth and he
stopped the truck. He hopped out and slammed the door shut.
Swinging
her legs off the dashboard, Rayanne slipped out of the truck and saw the
trailer severely leaning to the left. The tire had deflated. In the path, she
saw a scatter of broken glass, shards of dark-colored beer bottles in the road.
Owen
kicked the edge of the trailer. “Dropp’n F!”
“Calm
down, okay?” Rayanne walked to the center of the path and bent over to study
the broken glass.
Owen
wasn’t listening, and knelt by the flat tire. “They blew a hole in my tire!” He
kicked the trailer again, then spun around. “On purpose!”
“They’re
kids. What do you want to do about it? Do you want me to change the tire?” She
stood and faced him. “Get back in the truck, calm down, and I will change the
tire.”
“You’re
not changing the tire,” he said, walking to the truck. He took the jack and
tire iron out of a compartment in the backseat.
She
watched him, raising her eyebrows and waiting for him to continue.
He
slammed the door shut and turned to her. “Get in the truck.” He hesitated a
moment, then said, “It’s not safe out here.”
“Why?”
Rayanne had enough of his silence and placed her hands on her hips as she
spoke. “Who were those kids and what did they want?”
He
turned away from her. “I don’t know.”
“They
obviously knew you. What are you not telling me?” She stepped toward him. She
twirled the wedding ring on her finger.
“I
can’t deal with this right now, babe. Okay?” He raised the tire iron in the air
as if he were swinging a bat. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“So
there is something to talk about?”
“No!”
He walked to the rear of the trailer and dropped the jack next to the brake
lights. It clanged as it hit the dirt. He still gripped the tire iron, though,
and waved it as he spoke. “I don’t know who those kids were. I don’t know what
they wanted. And I don’t know what else to tell you.”
“I
don’t believe you.” Rayanne’s legs were trembling as adrenaline kicked in. She
knew she was pushing him. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
He
dropped the tire iron and, resting a hand on the underside of the boat, leaned
down close to the blown tire. “Believe whatever you want,” he said in a low
voice.
Rayanne
didn’t move. “Do those kids work for some kinda loan shark?”
He
looked up. “What?”
“Did
you borrow money from someone?” She waited for an answer. When he didn’t
respond, she continued. “We’re bankrupt, you’ve got creditors calling and
filing liens, and the IRS is breathing down our backs.”
Owen
froze, shutting his eyes and lowering his head. He spoke very slowly, directly.
“You blame me, don’t you?”
Rayanne
sighed. “Of course not.”
He
looked back at the tire, then muttered over his shoulder, “I didn’t borrow
money from no one.”
“Owen,
we’ve got debt com—”
“I’m
not selling cars, okay? I’m not working for your father.”
“If
you’d taken that job six months ago, we wouldn’t be confronted with teenage
muscle ready to unleash their killer dog on us.” She paced back and forth
behind the trailer, running her hands through her hair.
Owen
threw up his arms and kicked the dirt. Finally, he stopped and faced her.
“Babe, I’m in no mood—”
“You’re
in the same mood you’re always in—angry.” She was yelling now. “You’ve been
impossible to live with for the last six months, and when my dad offers to help
you, you spit in his face and turn to loan sharks.”
“I
didn’t—babe, I can’t deal with this right now.” He got to his feet and turned
away from
behind them. Owen flipped on the high beams and they lit up the woods ahead.
Rayanne hoped they were still actually on the path as branches struck the
windshield and the side doors. They hit something in the road and the truck
jittered and swerved. A new wave of expletives rushed from Owen’s mouth and he
stopped the truck. He hopped out and slammed the door shut.
Swinging
her legs off the dashboard, Rayanne slipped out of the truck and saw the
trailer severely leaning to the left. The tire had deflated. In the path, she
saw a scatter of broken glass, shards of dark-colored beer bottles in the road.
Owen
kicked the edge of the trailer. “Dropp’n F!”
“Calm
down, okay?” Rayanne walked to the center of the path and bent over to study
the broken glass.
Owen
wasn’t listening, and knelt by the flat tire. “They blew a hole in my tire!” He
kicked the trailer again, then spun around. “On purpose!”
“They’re
kids. What do you want to do about it? Do you want me to change the tire?” She
stood and faced him. “Get back in the truck, calm down, and I will change the
tire.”
“You’re
not changing the tire,” he said, walking to the truck. He took the jack and
tire iron out of a compartment in the backseat.
She
watched him, raising her eyebrows and waiting for him to continue.
He
slammed the door shut and turned to her. “Get in the truck.” He hesitated a
moment, then said, “It’s not safe out here.”
“Why?”
Rayanne had enough of his silence and placed her hands on her hips as she
spoke. “Who were those kids and what did they want?”
He
turned away from her. “I don’t know.”
“They
obviously knew you. What are you not telling me?” She stepped toward him. She
twirled the wedding ring on her finger.
“I
can’t deal with this right now, babe. Okay?” He raised the tire iron in the air
as if he were swinging a bat. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“So
there is something to talk about?”
“No!”
He walked to the rear of the trailer and dropped the jack next to the brake
lights. It clanged as it hit the dirt. He still gripped the tire iron, though,
and waved it as he spoke. “I don’t know who those kids were. I don’t know what
they wanted. And I don’t know what else to tell you.”
“I
don’t believe you.” Rayanne’s legs were trembling as adrenaline kicked in. She
knew she was pushing him. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
He
dropped the tire iron and, resting a hand on the underside of the boat, leaned
down close to the blown tire. “Believe whatever you want,” he said in a low
voice.
Rayanne
didn’t move. “Do those kids work for some kinda loan shark?”
He
looked up. “What?”
“Did
you borrow money from someone?” She waited for an answer. When he didn’t
respond, she continued. “We’re bankrupt, you’ve got creditors calling and
filing liens, and the IRS is breathing down our backs.”
Owen
froze, shutting his eyes and lowering his head. He spoke very slowly, directly.
“You blame me, don’t you?”
Rayanne
sighed. “Of course not.”
He
looked back at the tire, then muttered over his shoulder, “I didn’t borrow
money from no one.”
“Owen,
we’ve got debt com—”
“I’m
not selling cars, okay? I’m not working for your father.”
“If
you’d taken that job six months ago, we wouldn’t be confronted with teenage
muscle ready to unleash their killer dog on us.” She paced back and forth
behind the trailer, running her hands through her hair.
Owen
threw up his arms and kicked the dirt. Finally, he stopped and faced her.
“Babe, I’m in no mood—”
“You’re
in the same mood you’re always in—angry.” She was yelling now. “You’ve been
impossible to live with for the last six months, and when my dad offers to help
you, you spit in his face and turn to loan sharks.”
“I
didn’t—babe, I can’t deal with this right now.” He got to his feet and turned
away from
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