Apartment 2B (25 page)

The entire way back to our houses, she deliberately walked several feet behind me
and refused to say a word to me. June was strange these days. God, she’d better not
get her period. Gross.

When we made it up to my driveway, we heard shouting come from my house. I could see
Daddy up on the porch, and he was screaming at Momma.

“You ain’t nothing but a whore, Mona. They all call ya Moan-a behind yer back! Get
the fuck out of my life. I’m divorcing your ass!”

Momma was crying and calling him a slew of names. When she shoved him, he slapped
her across her face hard enough to knock her on the floor. I was tearing up the driveway,
June calling after me, before I even knew what I was doing. Pounding up the steps,
I reached Daddy as Momma started to stand back up. I tackled him with as much strength
as a twelve-year-old boy could possess.

“Don’t ya touch my momma!” I screamed and attempted to punch him with my small fists.
Daddy just grunted and swatted me off him. I was no match for his nearly six-foot
frame.

“Boy, ya better not do that again or I’m taking my belt to yer bare ass!” he growled
and started unbuckling his belt.

Momma stormed into the house, letting the old screen door slam behind her. I glanced
over to June, who was standing in the yard, tiny hands covering her mouth. She looked
horrified. Daddy and I had a silent standoff for what seemed like several minutes
before he stomped back into the house.

Defeated, I slammed myself down on the porch swing and gritted my teeth. June slowly
approached me, sitting beside me. Her petite hand reached over and covered my clenched
fist, immediately causing some of the tension to fade. My heart was still racing from
the altercation moments before.

“I’m sorry yer momma and daddy were fightin’,” June said sadly.

I looked over at her and studied her soft features. She was beginning to look pretty
to me. Meeting my eyes, she smiled. For some reason, I had an overwhelming urge to
kiss her pouty lips.
What is wrong with me these days?
I could feel another boner start and I adjusted my jeans, hoping she wouldn’t notice.
All attempts of subduing my hard-on were thrown out the window when she leaned over
and pecked my lips. Before we could even assess what happened, Momma burst back out
of the house.

“Come on, Bobby. We’re leaving,” she ordered as she stomped to her truck. My heart
sank when I realized she had two suitcases in tow.

“Where are we goin’, Momma?” I shouted after her.

She tossed them into the bed of the truck and turned to me. “Me and yer daddy are
gettin’ a divorce. We’re goin’ to stay with your Aunt Martha. Now get in the truck.”

I turned to look over at June and her eyes were filled with tears. My stomach felt
uneasy, like I could be sick at any moment. Latching on to her hand with mine, I stood
up from the swing and she followed suit. Ducking my head, I pecked her on the lips
once more before backing away from her and releasing her hand. The last image I had
of her was one that haunted me for years to come.

I love you, June Bug.

Bobby (Present)

“Dude, that chick from last night was fucking hot. She looks like she takes it in
the ass. Tell me, did you put it in her ass?” Chaz questioned, wagging his eyes at
me.

Ignoring my best friend, I picked up my Gibson acoustic and strummed a few chords.
We had the last show of our tour tonight at The Joint in The Hard Rock Hotel, and
I was trying to flesh out a new song I wanted to play. Chaz’s stupid ass was distracting
as hell.

“Come on, Bobby. You know I live vicariously through you, and I’m sorry but Neve won’t
let me get near that hole. The only reason I’m marrying that girl is because she gives
good head. So give a brother something to dream about,” he pleaded.

I looked up at him to tell him to fuck off but started chuckling when I realized that
he looked like a fucking chick perched on the arm of the sofa. Neve wore the pants
in their relationship, and I felt bad for my best friend.

“Fine, Chaz. I fucked her in every hole she begged me to put it in. This man
aims
to please,” I bragged, pointing at my chest.

He grinned and slapped me on the shoulder. “Now I’m going to go fuck my fiancée and
imagine that chick from last night taking it from behind,” he joked and sauntered
off to find Neve.

I continued strumming my guitar as I thought about exactly how I wanted the solo to
go. Tonight was a big fucking show and I wanted to wow the crowd with a new piece.
The chicks usually went wild when we took it down from the hard rock to an acoustic
set. That’s when the panties would start flying across the stage.

Donnie, our drummer, always made it a part of the show to run across the stage scooping
up as many as he could and stuffing them down the front of his low-slung jeans. The
women would go insane during that part. He was a typical badass drummer with his tattoos,
lean body, and outrageous behavior. Our bass player, Manny, was the quiet one of the
group. And even though he tried to ignore the attention, his Puerto Rican good looks
prohibited that from happening. Chaz was the only one of us officially off the market,
but that didn’t stop the outpouring of love toward him from our fans. Part of the
rise of our success had been that we were comprised of four good-looking bad boys,
but we could back it up with our badass music.

My phone chimed, so I set down my guitar to see who’d texted me. Mom was begging me
to come visit this weekend. Since the tour had begun in January, I hadn’t seen her
once. I knew she was pissed, but this was my career. Typing out a promise to visit,
I glanced down at my bare chest. I wanted another tattoo but was beginning to run
out of places to put them. Thinking about my favorite one, I looked down at my thumb
on my right hand.

The tiny, simple black beetle was situated between my two joints there. It was my
first tattoo and a daily reminder of her. When Mom took us away from there a little
over fifteen years ago, I’d thought about her every day. Hell, half my songs were
in some way about her. I hated my dad for ruining our family, so I’d never desired
to go back to that shitty-ass town. Hopping up, I headed for the shower to get ready
for our last show.

June

“Dammit, woman! I told ya to have dinner on the fuckin’ table when I got home,” Markwayne
spat when he walked into our kitchen after work.

I flinched at his tone, which indicated that he’d been drinking with the boys after
work. Most days, he was such an asshole and I hated him. I should have left his ass
long ago. Every day, I found more reason to leave him.

“Babe, I just got home from work. We had a late rush at the diner and one of the other
servers quit. I couldn’t leave Larry shorthanded. Let me change out of my uniform
and I’ll make you some supper.”

He was swaying a bit while give me the stare down, making me shift uncomfortably.

Before I knew what was happening, he was on me, sucking my neck hard and pinching
my nipple through my uniform. My back was pressed against the knobs of the stove.
His erection pushed into me, indicating his desire. It was the same song and dance
with him. Lifting my dress up, he reached under and yanked my panties down my thighs.
Markwayne was never one for foreplay, so our sex life sucked.

Spinning me around, he pushed me over the stove and entered me from behind. My pussy
was dry like usual, and it stung when he entered me. I clutched the grates of the
stove to hold myself steady while he had his way with me.

Markwayne hadn’t always been an asshole. Back in high school, he’d wooed me hard.
I’d fallen for him pretty quickly and we’d ended up married when I turned eighteen.
Our marriage had hit the seven-year itch, and I was itching to leave him. Maybe I
would bring that up to him tonight. He hadn’t seemed any happier than I had the last
few years.

He pulled out of me and snatched the hand towel from the counter to clean himself
up. When he finished, he tossed it to me. Wiping quickly, I snatched my panties back
up my legs and started to head toward the bedroom to take a quick shower. He disgusted
me these days, and I just wanted to wash away him and the greasy smell away.

“Where do ya think yer goin’?” he demanded, roughly grabbing my upper arm. He squeezed
until I yelped in pain. Markwayne liked getting rough every now and again, but he’d
yet to hit me.

“Markwayne, I’m goin’ to shower. Let me go,” I seethed. My disgust towards him must
have shown loud and clear. The back of his hand connected across my cheekbone before
I even knew what hit me. Gasping, I held my hand to my stinging face.

“Ju Ju, I’m sick and fuckin’ tired of you sassin’ me all the time. Now cook me some
damn dinner or I’ll do it again.” His threats didn’t scare me like they should have.

Shoving him away from me, I bolted for the bathroom to take my damn shower. The thunderous
pounding of his footsteps coming after me echoed through our dilapidated trailer,
making my heart quicken. He’d never hit me before today, but now I wasn’t so sure
if it wouldn’t happen again.

Darting around the bathroom door, I slammed it shut behind me and engaged the lock.
His giant body banged against it, nearly knocking it off its hinges. A cold shiver
crept up my spine as I wondered if I’d pushed him too far today. My question was answered
when he smashed against the bathroom door again, this time splintering the wood. I
shrank away from his massive fists that were punching through the wood. Yanking the
plunger up from beside the toilet, I held it out in front of me in a defensive position.

“Get the fuck away from me, Markwayne!” I screeched as he forced himself all the way
through the door. My attempts to stab him with the wooden end of the plunger were
thwarted as he swatted it easily to the floor. One of his hands found my throat and
squeezed, instantly making me see stars.

Thankfully, he released my neck but grabbed my hair instead and yanked me back through
the destroyed bathroom door toward our bedroom. Tears were streaming down my face
as he dragged me down the hallway and shoved me to the floor once we were inside our
room.

Free of his grasp, I scrambled to my feet and searched wildly for something to defend
myself with. Markwayne had never taken it this far, and I wanted nothing more than
to get away from his violent behavior. Eyeing the lamp and its metal base on the bedside
table, I lunged for it. Before I could reach it, he rammed me into it, causing both
me and the lamp to crash to the floor. Shards of glass from the light bulb sliced
my palms as I tried to stand up.

A hard kick to my ribs sent me sailing into the wall and an instant fiery burn tore
through my side. I gasped, attempting to suck in air between the sharp pains. He pounced
on me again, jerking me up to my feet by my hair and spinning me to face him.

“You will fuckin’ learn, woman, that I’m tired of your sassin’!” The last thing I
remembered before being knocked completely out was his massive fist connecting with
my face.