White Trash Beautiful

“I want nothing more than to kiss you, Cass. But I need to know you trust me first. I don’t want you to ever think of me the way you think of that asshole you have back home. You deserve better, Cass, really.”

My eyes closed again and I nodded, wishing in this one moment he would just take what he wanted. His lips fell on my forehead and held there as the world moved around us. The club was packed and the Southern night air was muggy and hot. Our bodies were coated with a fresh layer of sweat as we ground together. Wanting radiated from every nerve ending in my body. Tucker’s forehead pushed against mine as his hands slowly traced my collarbone and trailed down my arms, pushing my sweater off with his fingers as his breathing grew more ragged. I slipped my hands under the bottom of his shirt and ran my fingers over his stomach. He groaned as I traced the edge of his boxers that stuck out above his jeans. Our eyes locked as he skimmed over my bruised arm without thinking, but the sudden twinge of pain snapped me back to reality. I pulled the sweater back over my shoulders and took a small step back from him, embarrassed. We stood only a few inches from each other, but it felt like the width of an ocean as we both struggled to calm our breathing.

“I should get back. Everyone’s going to wonder where I am.” I pulled my sweater tightly around my body, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed my bruises. He looked disappointed but nodded and took my hand. He led me from the bar and we walked slowly to his bike. We didn’t speak as we made our way down the cobblestone street. His jaw flexed continuously and I could tell he was deep in thought. I knew he was angry with himself, but I wasn’t. I was mad at Jax for giving me the bruises in the first place.

I didn’t want this night to end, but I knew there would be hell to pay if anyone found out where I had been. The fantasy night had to come to an end. Tucker seemed to be on the same page. His pace slowed, prolonging the inevitable good-bye. His hand slipped around mine. I still didn’t understand why he would want to spend his time with me. He was handsome and had a job that paid him well enough to afford such luxuries as designer clothes and a motorcycle. It would be easy for him to find a woman to go to bed with without all the baggage—not to mention attitude—I had.

I wished I had asked him more about himself, but it didn’t really matter. He would be gone soon, off to another town, leaving me in his dust. It was better this way.

Chapter Six

I SLIPPED MY LEG over the back of his bike as he revved the engine, and we took off into the night.

He drove slowly, taking in the sights of the town that never seemed to sleep. It was a far cry from Eddington, and I still couldn’t understand why he would ever set foot in my tiny town if he didn’t have to.

The big city faded into long stretches of empty highway. I hugged him tighter as we made our way into the outskirts of Eddington. We slowed to a snail’s pace as we crossed the dirt parking lot. The bike sounded like thunder in the quiet little trailer park.

He turned off the bike and his hands went to mine, holding me in place for a few more moments. I didn’t mind. I pressed my cheek against his back and closed my eyes, drinking in the scent of coconut and sweat from his body. I never wanted this to end. I hated myself for it. A few trailers away, my boyfriend was inside, probably wondering where I was. And likely fuming. But I kept my hands latched around Tucker.

I didn’t want to break the silence, as if it would somehow make him disappear. He had no idea how much it meant to me that he’d confided in me the secrets of his childhood. I knew how difficult it was to reveal the uglier sides of life. It always changed people’s perceptions of you; they didn’t want to hear it, and who could blame them? Wouldn’t everyone prefer to live in blissful ignorance?

Eventually he spoke. “Thanks for hanging out with me tonight.” His fingers rubbed lightly over mine.

I didn’t know how to respond. I wanted to thank him. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d allowed myself to just let loose and not worry about anything—or anybody—for a night. “Thanks, I had a lot of fun. I don’t remember the last time . . .” I tried to tone down the smile on my face but I couldn’t. My cheeks hurt from the effort. I slipped my leg over the bike and pulled off my helmet. I ran my fingers through my hair, letting the sentence dangle.

Tucker slid off his bike and took off his helmet as well. He took mine from my hand and placed it on the bike, handing me my bag of work clothes. “I’m sorry about—”

“Don’t. Please don’t. Tonight was amazing. I don’t want to talk about what he did.”

Tucker nodded but didn’t look any less upset.

“Will you be coming by again?” I couldn’t help asking the question that had been on my mind since we’d left the dance floor. I didn’t want to sound desperate, but my voice came out high-pitched. I braced for him to tell me that he was leaving town. I didn’t expect him to stick around, and I knew it would only cause trouble if he did. Still, my heart sank as I waited for him to tell me the inevitable. I wanted to know more about him, and it seemed as if he genuinely wanted to know more about me, too. For some reason, I felt an unfamiliar urge to open the vault in which I’d stashed away years of painful memories and lay them bare before him.

He smiled and looked down at the ground, kicking the dirt with his boot. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Cass.” He ran his hand through my hair and gave me a half smile.

“Great.” I chewed on my lip and waved a small good-bye to him, trying to contain the happiness that suddenly washed over me as I took a few steps backward. He slipped his helmet back on and started his bike. I watched the cloud of dust whirl around him as he took off out of the parking lot.

I walked quickly to my trailer, hoping no one had seen our good-bye. I ducked behind the trailer and pulled my slacks on under my dress. After a fast look around to make sure no one was watching, I pulled my sweater off and slipped the dress over my head, replacing it with my black work polo. I tucked the small locket under my shirt. I couldn’t stand to take it off. It would make this entire night seem like a figment of my imagination. I needed to have the reminder that Tucker was real, that he cared, if only for a few more minutes.

I listened for any sound coming from inside the trailer as I kicked off the new sandals and tied my sneakers on my feet. I didn’t hear anything.

I opened the front door, cringing as it squeaked loudly. I snuck inside with my bag of clothes behind my back.

Jax lay on the couch, his breathing deep and steady. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. I tiptoed back down the hallway and slid my new outfit to the back of my closet. I smiled as I buried it under a few boxes. A secret memory of the perfect night. I slipped the necklace off and wrapped it inside the dress.

I quickly undressed and took a fast shower, dancing and humming the song “Loved” to myself. The water was cold, but it didn’t dampen my mood in the least.

As I slipped into bed, I wondered if Tucker was thinking of me the way I was of him. Surely this night didn’t even register on the list of greatest nights of his life, but for me it was at the very top.

I dreamed of dancing in that club for hours, my fingers sliding up Tucker’s neck and his hands rubbing the length of my back. I pictured us with our foreheads pressed together—and suddenly pain shot through my head. In my dream, I shot Tucker an anguished look, confused, as our bodies were pulled apart.

“Get up, you fucking bitch!”

The smell of whiskey and cigarettes filled my nose, replacing the sweet smell of freedom. My hands flew to the back of my head as I struggled to pry Jackson’s fingers from my hair. “Jax, let go of me!” I struggled to get my footing as he lifted me from the bed by my hair.

“Where the fuck were you?” His eyes were glazed over and bloodshot.

I knew it was no good to fight with him. My mind searched for an excuse and his hand clenched tighter. “I went out with Marla, after work.” I strained to keep balanced on the balls of my feet. Jackson was a lot taller than I was.

“Marla?” He looked at me as if he didn’t believe me. Why would he? Marla and I fought constantly at work. I fought with everyone. It was hard to believe anyone would put up with me more than they had to.

“Where’d you go?” He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw, but his grip loosened slightly.

I struggled to even out my breathing. “She took me into town. She had to go pick up her kid from his dad. I swear, Jax!”

He looked me over and seemed to believe me. His fingers slipped from my still-damp hair and I rubbed the tender spot. “I’m sorry, Cass.” He pulled me into his chest. I balled my fists against him and cried silently. I wanted to run away. Where would I go? I had nowhere, nothing. Jackson had been with me since the day we’d met. I knew the way he treated me wasn’t right, but at least he was always there. And he hadn’t always been this way. My father had left my mom and me when I was young. Jax offered me stability and the love I so desperately craved from someone. He also protected me from the parade of boyfriends my mother had in her life. During that unstable period, it seemed that he was always there when I needed him. He was the one person who knew all of my secrets and didn’t judge me for them. I cringed as I thought of how Tucker would react if I told him what my mother would do to make ends meet, or how her boyfriends would get touchy with me when she would pass out from taking drugs. Jax didn’t judge me then; he never wavered. Not until he started using. How could I leave him now, when he needed me the most? The good guy that he once was, was still in there somewhere; I tried to remind myself of that every day. He just needed me to help him find his way back. Maybe he just needed me to help him fly.

I relaxed and let my arms slip around his sides. He had every right to hate me right now, even if he didn’t know the truth.

We slept in my bed with his arms wrapped tightly around me. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe in his embrace. What had I done? I had run off with a guy who saw me as some sort of project. Maybe it was pity I saw in his eyes, not the sense of longing that surely reflected in mine. This was where I belonged. In this trailer, in Jax’s arms. My fate had already been written, and some guy on a motorcycle was not going to swoop in and rescue me. This wasn’t a fairy tale. This was my life. No matter how much I fucking hated it, it was of my own creation, and it was mine.

The next morning I awoke to a steady thumping of a headache. The back of my head was sore and throbbing with a constant dull, aching reminder of how I’d lied to Jax. I couldn’t tell him the truth, of course. I couldn’t afford the hospital visit.

I slipped out of his grip and made my way down to the small bathroom. I tried the handle but it was locked.

“Mom!” I banged on the door with the palm of my hand. “Mom! Open the fucking door. Some of us have jobs we gotta get to.” I waited, my arms crossed over my chest. Nothing. “Damn it,” I screamed, and kicked the door. I slipped back into my room and grabbed a clean uniform for work. I was on my last one and would need to make a trip to the Laundromat soon.

I avoided that place as much as possible. There was nothing safe about the Laundromat. All the tweakers in the neighborhood hung out there to buy or sell dope. A few weeks back, Deb from three trailers down was jumped and nearly raped. The thought made my stomach twist in knots.

I looked over at Jax, who was still sound asleep. I slid my closet open and moved the boxes around until my fingers touched the silky-soft fabric of my new dress. I couldn’t help but smile. One day my closet would be full of pretty dresses like this. I just needed to work a little harder. I carefully buried it again and stood to leave my room, stopping to rub my teddy bear, which secretly held my dreams inside it.

I made my way to the kitchen to find something, anything, to eat. The top shelf of the fridge held mustard and mayonnaise. The next two shelves were empty. I closed it. “Fuck,” I whispered, rubbing my hands over my face.