White Trash Beautiful (3 page)

I snuck out into the living room and flipped on the television. A few minutes later, Jax came out of the bathroom in a daze.

“Hey,” he said, scrubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“Hey.” I didn’t look at him. A nothingness was in his eyes anyway. The way he always looked when he used. He’d promised me a million times he would stop. Lies. It was always lies. I flipped between the three channels that we got, looking for something other than the news.

“You got any money?” Now he was scratching his stomach under his wifebeater.

“When do I ever have any money?” I snapped, and clicked off the television. I got up and pushed past him, hitting him hard with my shoulder.

“Fuck, Cass, you don’t have to be such a bitch about it.”

I slammed the door to my bedroom and dropped down on the bed, burying my face in my floral comforter. For the countless time, I cried myself to sleep.

U
GGHH . . .” I REACHED
for the alarm and swatted it a few times until it finally stopped beeping. I didn’t want to open my eyes. Dreams were always better than reality. Last night, I was four years old again, and with my mother and father. He was tall and strong with wispy blond hair. My mother still had the light in her eyes that had since burned out. She looked identical to me in my memories. She smiled and laughed while she and my father each held one of my hands. Every few steps they would raise their arms, lifting me off the ground. It felt as if I were flying and I’d loved it. The adult me remembered and missed those times.

Resigned, I stretched and sat up, looking around my room. The walls were dingy green and the carpet a stained blue. It was hideous. I kept it clean, but no amount of scrubbing could make it easy on the eyes. All of my furniture was secondhand and broken.

“Cass!” Jax screamed from the living room. I yawned and allowed myself another moment of peace before dressing for work and walking out to the living room to find him. He was sprawled on the brown couch, rubbing his temples.

“I don’t feel good,” he moaned, his brows drawn together.

“What’s wrong?” I sat down beside him and put my hand on his
forehead. He didn’t feel feverish. “Headache?” He nodded and pulled me down to his chest. I wanted to fight him. I hated that he had lied to me again. But instead I rested my head on his chest and listened to the beating of his heart.

He ran a hand through my hair. “I didn’t mean to, Cass. I fucked up.”

I knew he didn’t want to be a junkie. He was addicted and had no way out. I’d tried to get him to join a group to help him through it. I’d even brought a pamphlet home. He tore it up and threw it in my face. He said that groups were for pussies. He could quit on his own. I looked up at his face and his eyes were still squeezed shut.
He was wrong,
I thought with a sigh.

“I have to get ready for work.” I sat up, but Jackson grabbed my wrists and tried to pull me back to him.

“Stay.” He pulled harder until my body fell against his.

I slapped him in the chest and stood again. “I have to go to work. I don’t want to be stuck here forever.”

His eyes shot open and I knew I had said the wrong thing.

“What’s wrong with
here
, Cass? You too good for this place? You would be living on the street right now if I hadn’t got us this place.” His voice was low and cold.

I took a step backward.

He sat up and slowly pushed to his feet. “You want to suck dick for a living like your mama used to?” He stepped closer. My legs were against the chair now, and I was struggling to keep from falling back into it. “I bet that’s how you get your tips.”

“I’m sorry.” My voice was barely a whisper. My throat had dried and I could barely speak. The attitude I used to protect myself from the world disappeared around Jax. It always did. He was stronger than me physically, but that isn’t what eventually broke me down. His words were what hurt the most. After being told for so long that I was worthless and no one else would want me, I began to believe it. I always put on a strong face for others. Trying to prove I
wasn’t the weak little girl I felt like inside, but Jax saw through my façade; it crumbled under his penetrating stare.

He wasn’t always like this. It was only when he used and needed another fix. His hand shot out and grabbed my upper arm. He squeezed and I cried out in pain as my knees buckled.

His face was over mine now, his jaw clenched. “You ungrateful . . . worthless little bitch.”

I flinched at his words. They hurt worse than his hands. “I’m just trying to make it better for us,” I whispered.

“Oh, I am not man enough to provide for you?”

“I have to go. I have to . . .”

He leaned in closer until our noses touched. “You are nothing but white trash.”

He let go of my arm, pushing me back into the chair. I fell less than gracefully. I quickly put my hands over my face to shield myself from any blows that might come my way. Nothing. I peeked between my fingers and sighed. I was alone. I grabbed my apron and left as quickly as possible.

I was working morning and evening shifts that day. While I hated my job, it was better than the alternative. I would do anything to keep from becoming homeless. Plus, I had so far been able to save $600. I could almost taste freedom. A new life. I just had to push myself a little harder and I could make things better for us. I could get Jackson some help and maybe help my mother find some friends, a network of support. I wanted a home that was all my own. I wanted to be proud of who I was and not have to worry if I would be able to afford food or hot water. For once, I wanted to take those basic necessities for granted.

“You’re a half hour early,” Larry called from the kitchen. I pushed into the room and began my prep work for the shift.

“I won’t clock in early. I just needed to get away.” I shrugged and began to fill the salt and pepper shakers. He didn’t respond, didn’t make any smart-ass remarks. He knew what went on at my
place. The whole trailer park knew. Not that they cared. Everyone had his or her own problems and mine weren’t special. In fact, a lot of people had it worse.

When the diner finally opened, it took half an hour for any customers to show up. Larry made some eggs and toast for us to eat. Every once in a while, he was kind. I appreciated those times. I knew I was rude and lashed out at almost everyone, but it was the only way to protect myself. I didn’t want to be hurt by anyone else. If I opened myself up, I was inviting someone in to hurt me, to leave me.

I ate breakfast while rolling silverware into napkins and securing them with little paper strips. My table only needed the occasional coffee refill, so the morning dragged.

During the lull, I went to the bathroom and braided my hair to the side, looking over my reflection. I was a plain Jane with freckles on my nose and a heart-shaped face that made me look too much like a teenager. I hated it.

I sighed and lifted my sleeve to check the bruises underneath it.
Great
. These weren’t going to fade anytime soon. My eyes, normally a sky blue, looked dull and faded. It felt as though my life were literally draining out of them. I was becoming my mother. All I needed was a drug habit and about forty extra pounds. I rolled my eyes and snorted at my private joke. Blond-haired, blue-eyed nothing. The tiny smile at my internal joke quickly faded as I looked myself over once more before switching off the light and heading back to work.

I stepped out into the dining room and my jaw nearly hit the floor. Tucker was making himself comfortable at one of my tables, menu in hand. I glanced over at Larry, who was leaning against the waitress station. He grinned and looked back at Tucker. I straightened my apron and ran my hand over my hair. Was I nervous? What the hell for? This guy was clearly trouble and a glutton for punishment if he thought hanging around this place was fun.

“Hey.” I gave him my best fake smile, but I didn’t have to force myself as much as usual.

“Hey, sweetheart.” His smile beamed.

My heart fluttered a beat and I swallowed hard. “Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“Orange juice sounds good.”

I took off for the kitchen to get him the drink.

“Who’s your new friend?” Larry asked with a stupid grin on his face. I rolled my eyes and ignored him as I poured Tucker his juice.

“Jax is gonna be pissed.” Larry laughed. I wanted to punch him in his stupid mouth. He had no idea what Jax did when he was pissed. I glared at Larry and walked back out to the dining area and took Tucker his glass of orange juice.

“So, you aren’t from around here, are you?” I had never before seen him. I would remember a face like his. He didn’t fit in here. He was covered in tattoos, which was the norm, but they all looked like works of art. Not the typical home-drawn doodles or jail tats most people sported around here. Tucker ran his hand through his messy hair. It stood up in spikes with no rhyme or reason.

“Just in town for a few days for work. Staying over in Savannah.”

“Savannah? They have all sorts of places to eat. What brings you to Eddington?” I was being nosy. I didn’t even know why I cared. Curiosity, I guess. No one ever made an effort or went out of his or her way to come here.

“I like the small-town feel.” He shrugged.

That pissed me off. I’m not sure why, but it did. I was nearly killing myself to get out of this godforsaken place and he came here to feel cozy?

“Have you decided on anything?” I raised an eyebrow, and he stared at me for a moment as if he didn’t understand me. Apparently, my frustration at his comment showed.

“Yeah, I’ll have the ham steak with a couple of eggs. Over easy.” He held out the menu for me to take.

“You like ’em easy, got it.”

“Actually, I’m enjoying the challenge.”

My cheeks burned as I flushed in embarrassment. I turned and headed for the kitchen.
Just fucking great
.

Larry took the order with a huge grin on his face. While I waited for the food, I turned on the radio in the diner. I clicked on my favorite station and began to sing along as I wiped down menus. Music was an escape for me. It took me out of my life and placed me magically in another world. I loved it. I continued to sing along as one song faded into the next.

Even Larry seemed in better spirits, humming along to the songs as he set the plate of food up for me to take. I was still lost in the song as I carried it over to Tucker.

“You like this song?” he asked as he unwrapped his silverware.

“It’s beautiful.”

Tucker grinned and I returned the gesture.

“Wanna sit? Doesn’t look like you’re that busy.”

I glanced around the empty diner. He was right. Today was going to be a slow day, and after I’d bitten his head off the day before, I owed him that much.

I sighed and slid into the bench seat across from him. He ate while I tapped my fingers to the music.

He watched me as he chewed. “Damaged.”

“What?”

“The band. Have you seen them in concert?” He took another bite of his ham and shoved it in his mouth. He had nice lips.

I shook my head, realizing he had said something to me. “I’m sorry, what?”

“They play in Savannah in a few days.” He smiled.

“I don’t go in town much.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Cabs are too expensive I guess. What is this? Twenty Questions?”

“Well, you’re not exactly an open book.”

“Maybe because my life isn’t your business.” I raised an eyebrow at him as I grabbed his orange juice and took a sip.

He laughed and set down his silverware. “Ask me something. Anything.”

“Okay.” I set the glass back on the table as I tried to come up with something to ask. “What do you do for a living?”

He made a face and took another bite of food. “Ask me something else.”

I sighed and rested my head on my hand. “What’s your favorite color?”

“
That’s
what you want to know?”

“It’s all I could think of.” I shrugged as I crumpled his straw paper into a ball between my fingers.

He leaned forward again, his blue eyes searching mine. “Ask me why I’m here. Ask me why I keep coming back.”

The bell above the door dinged and Jackson stumbled in. His eyes narrowed in rage.

“Fuck,” I whispered as I nervously tucked my hair behind my ear.

Tucker glanced over his shoulder to see what had suddenly made me so upset.

“You dirty little whore!” Jackson was seething mad.

I waved my hands in front of me, begging him to stop. He was obviously high and not thinking clearly. “Jax, it’s not what you think.” The smell of liquor wafted off him.

“Everything all right?” Tucker’s eyes were locked on mine. He looked to be itching to fight.

“None of your fucking business, asshole.” Jackson leaned in toward Tucker, arms stretched. Jax grabbed my arm to pull me from the booth. His hand wrapped around my tender bruises and I flinched, a squeal escaping my lips.

Tucker jumped from his seat and was nose to nose with Jackson in a heartbeat. “Get your fucking hands off her.” Tucker’s voice was
low and frighteningly calm. The muscles in his jaw ticked as he waited.

Jax loosened his grip on me momentarily. I rubbed at my tender flesh, trying to make the pain subside.

Jackson’s attention was now on Tucker. “Why do you care? She’s
my
girl. I’ll put my hands anywhere I want on her.” Jax had a few inches on him, but Tucker was slim and fit. He obviously spent time keeping himself in shape, unlike Jackson.

“You want to fight someone, I’m right here, motherfucker.” Tucker was shifting from foot to foot. It reminded me of how a boxer hops around the ring during a fight, only more subtle.

I pushed my way between them, putting myself face-to-face with Tucker. “Stop this! I’m fine.”
God, he has nice lips. Shit. Stop staring at his lips.
“Please,” I whispered.

“You’re fine with some asshole manhandling you?” Tucker was fuming and looked around me to glare at Jax.

I moved so my face was in Tucker’s line of vision again, just inches from his face. “It’s not what you think. He’s just upset.” I was trying desperately to defuse the situation.