Madeline Sheehan: Undeniable

Deuce stopped walking and stared down at me.

"What are you thinkin' you might wanna be?"

"Maya Angelou," I replied immediately, "Or Eleanor Roosevelt."

He started choking.

"But," I hurriedly continued, “In order to dress up as Maya Angelou I’d somehow have to make my skin black without insulting the African American community. I will probably end up as Eleanor Roosevelt. Not that I mind. She was an amazing woman.”

"How old are you?" He asked roughly, pounding on his chest with his fist.

"Twelve."

"Twelve?"

Looking bewildered, he shook his head. "Thought you were a pretty smart kid when I first met you, now I know you are."

I blushed. Deuce, President, according to his cut, of the Hell's Horsemen, thought I was smart. How cool was that?

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Thirty, darlin'." He looked down at me and wrinkled his nose. "Old, yeah?"

I shrugged. "My dad's thirty seven. And he's still pretty cool."

His eyes bugged out of his head. "Lemme get this straight. You're twelve years old, you’re probably gonna dress up as Eleanor Roosevelt for Halloween and you think your old man is cool?"

I nodded.

He shook his head again, smirking. "Damn."

My stomach dropped. He was making fun of me.

I ripped my hand out of his and crossed my arms over my chest. "I know I'm weird. Everyone at school always tells me that. Everyone except my best friend Kami. They hate my music because it's old. They hate my clothes cuz they're boy clothes. They think I'm a freak! So go ahead and say it! You think I’m freak, don’t you!"

Deuce knelt down in front of me. "Darlin' you ain't weird. You're twelve. An those kids don’t hate you, not even close. The girls are jealous cuz you're so damn pretty and the boys are just bein' boys tryin' to flirt but not havin' the first clue how to go about it."

You're so damn pretty.

"I'm pretty?"

His lips twitched. "Only twelve and already fishin'. Yeah, darlin', you're pretty. Gonna be beautiful someday. Gonna make some boy happier than a pig in shit."

I grinned. Who would have thought the words "pig" and "shit" used in the same sentence could make a girl blissfully happy.

“There it is,” he said quietly. “That’s what I like to see. Nothin' better than a pretty girl smilin'.”

I stared up at him; he stared down at me. His hard eyes gentled and I felt my body go butter soft. Something was happening to me, something important, monumental even.

The shift from child to teenager. Although I wouldn't understand this until I was much older, what had happened and why it had happened, standing there in the middle of a pumpkin field I’d known I was irrevocably changed. And that I'd changed because of and for this man.

"EVA! WHAT THE FUCK!"

I swiveled around. Frankie was storming towards us, kicking poor innocent pumpkins out of his way.

"Great," I groaned. "Frankie found me."

"Your man?" Deuce asked watching Frankie's temper tantrum with marked interest.

My eyes bugged out of my head. "Ew! He's my fake brother!"

Frankie's long brown hair was flying all over the place and his dark brown eyes had darkened further with burgeoning anger. Only fifteen and he was already six foot tall with the body of a quarterback. He wasn’t as big as Deuce was but he would be someday.

"I know you?" Frankie hissed, stopping only inches from Deuce.

Deuce's eyebrows popped and he smirked. "No kid. Fraid' we haven't had the pleasure."

Frankie hated being called a kid, especially in front of me. I watched as his hands clenched into fists.

Deuce wasn't smiling anymore. "You're gonna wanna reel that in. I don't take shit from grown men and I'm sure as shit not gonna take shit from an asshole who's pretendin' he's grown cuz he wants down a girl's pants."

I closed my eyes. Deuce didn't know Frankie therefore he didn't know that Frankie wasn't trying to impress me, this was just the way he was all of the time. Before he could throw a punch and get his butt kicked by Deuce, I pushed in between them and wrapped my arms around Frankie’s middle.

“I missed you,” I said hurriedly. “I've been looking everywhere for you and couldn’t find you anywhere. I asked Deuce to help me look for you.”

Frankie’s arms wrapped around me and his hard body sagged against mine. One of his hands fisted in my hair and the other held tight to my waist.

"Sorry," He muttered. "I just thought…I don't know…you gotta stay close to me. I can't fuckin' protect you if I don't know where you are. If somethin’ happened to you baby, I would kill myself. Can’t be in this world without you. Fuck, I can't even think 'bout you bein' gone, makes me fuckin' crazy."

"Oh Frankie," I whispered. "You gotta stop worrying. Nothing's going to happen to me and I'm never going to leave you."

☼☼☼

Deuce hesitated leaving Eva alone with that crazy little shit but it looked as if she was the only person who had any sort of control over him, so he left her to it. He had known kids like Frankie growing up. Jacked in the head, no control, caught crazy at the drop of a hat and usually ended up dead before they turned thirty. Preacher giving him a cut had been a big mistake. He didn’t give a shit how much love he had for the boy. When shit got intense, and it always did, you needed level headed men on your crew.

"Dare you to touch her tits."

Deuce paused beside a rundown barn at the edge of the farm.

"Dare you to fuck her."

"Preacher finds out he'll kill you."

He stiffened. Little shits were talking about Eva.

"I'm not scared of Preacher. ‘Sides she's the only bitch here old enough to fuck."

"She's fuckin' ugly. Except for her tits, bitch has nice tits. I'd fuck her just to see those tits."

Deuce saw red. Eva was twelve years old. Yeah, she had tits, twelve-year-old tits. And these fuckers were around sixteen and seventeen. He cracked his knuckles and stalked inside the barn.

Five little shits were leaning back against a row of empty horse stalls smoking cigarettes, acting like they were grown.

"Deuce," One of the little shits said. "What's up man?"

He didn't answer, just walked up to the first little shit and kicked him in his face then moved onto the next. Yanking little shit number two up by his collar, he spit in his face, gave him a fist to the gut and tossed him to the side.

The remaining three had scrambled behind stacked bales of hay.

"Git your fuckin' asses back here," He said, pulling his piece from the back of his jeans. "And take your fuckin' punishment like the men you ain't. If not I got some bullets with your fuckin’ names on ‘em."

"What the fuck did we do?" A pimply faced, gangly little shit screeched.

Using his gun, he gestured to where they had been sitting just moments ago. "Get. The. Fuck. Over. Here."

They got.

"I hear you talkin' 'bout Eva again. I see you lookin' at Eva, I see you within a hundred feet of Eva, you are all dead. You feel me?"

Wide eyed they nodded.

"Gonna go find your father's next and tell them what kinda bastards they're raisin' and I ‘spect they'll be beatin' the shit outta you next but first you're dealin' with me."

He took the third little shit by his greasy hair and brought the kids head down on his knee. Out cold, he shoved him to the side.

The forth little shit pissed himself the moment he stepped to him. Laughing, he moved on to the last little shit. The one who had called Eva ugly. Grabbing his neck, he shoved the barrel of his gun in the boy’s mouth.

"Know for a fact you got a coupla sisters. Know for a fact one of ‘em is just a year older than Eva. How's 'bout I go find your little sister and fuck her? How's 'bout I get some of my boys to fuck her too? Maybe we can all fuck her at the same time? Fuck her in her mouth, and her pussy and her fuckin’ asshole. Sound good?"