They’re nothing but trouble. Even if I didn’t recognize them, they scream this with the way they carry themselves. They have tiny dicks and a lack of respect for others.
In other words, they’re two huge pieces of shit.
The taller one, Felton Jeffers, is in jeans and a white T-shirt accentuating the slight belly that’s at odds with his otherwise lanky body. His buddy, Ronnie Wallace, has a bulkier frame but is dressed similarly.
“Mmm, mmm, mmm,” Felton taunts. “Would you look at that, Ronnie?”
“Oh, I’m lookin’. And, from this end, I’m likin’ what I see.” Ronnie draws to a stop behind me. Stifling waves of malevolent energy ooze off him, attempting to suffocate me.
I don’t turn around, letting them think I’m ignoring them or haven’t noticed. But my sight stays glued to their reflection in the glass door, watching their movements carefully.
My spine tingles and my muscles tense because, for fuck’s sake, I just want to buy my shit and be on my merry fucking way.
Travis hollers from the front. “She ain’t wantin’ anybody messin’ with her, Felton!”
Felton’s reflection in the glass depicts his annoyance when he yells back, “Piss off, Travis!” He sidles up beside me. “Ain’t seen you in a while.” He surveys me, his eyes scraping down my body in a way that makes me feel dirty. “Still got a sweet ass.”
Ronnie steps up on my other side. “Yeah. That there’s an ass I wouldn’t mind tappin’.”
I jerk open the door to the beer selection, and Felton barely sidesteps quickly enough to avoid it ramming into his face. I reach in and grab a case of beer, but before I can step back and let the door close, a body crowds me from behind. Good ole Ronnie.
Refrigerated air dances along my skin, but it does nothing to cool my frustrated anger. “Back off.” My words hold a monotone, no-nonsense quality.
“Maybe I don’t wanna.” Puffs of Ronnie’s hot, stale breath assault me when he presses his nose against my hair where it meets the edge of my hat. He drags in a long, deep breath, smelling me. And I know it’s to taunt me.
Travis’ voice rings out again, concern lacing his words. Out of anyone else in this town, he gets it. He understands the sort of hell bullies can inflict.
“Leave her alone back there!”
Ronnie lets out an angry grunt and turns away, granting me a reprieve of his body pressing against mine. “Mind your own fuckin’ business, faggot!”
On an aggravated sigh, I mutter, “Is there an asshole convention tonight or what?”
I turn, stepping back from the cooler, and let the door fall closed behind me. My movement draws the two men’s attention. Using my fistful of beef sticks, I nudge the underside of my ball cap lid and lift it up a fraction. I tip my head to ensure my hair slides away from the left side of my face, just enough.
It would be comical if I haven’t witnessed this exact reaction countless times over. The way they scrunch their faces in disgust and quickly avert their eyes.
My attitude and the sight of my face usually let me off the hook with these fuckers, but of course, I’ve got shit luck tonight. That becomes evident when Ronnie’s eyes narrow with a malicious determination.
Felton pipes up first. “Never did tell us what the fuck happened to your face.”
I know I shouldn’t stir the hornet’s nest up even more, but I can’t help it. “The last guy who wouldn’t leave me alone.” I use my teeth to rip open the plastic of one of the beef sticks. “But he got the worst end of the deal.”
Felton considers this a moment before narrowing his eyes. “What happened to him?”
“I cut off his dick and ran it through the woodchipper.” I grin before biting off a chunk of beef stick and chew, watching as he pales at the thought. “Well, gotta run. See ya round, boys.”
I brush past them and get in line to pay. A worried Travis catches my eyes, but I just wink at him. Poor guy doesn’t need to worry about me. I can handle myself just fine.
The line moves forward, but I’m still two customers from the counter when the hissed words reach my ears.
“Let it go, Ronnie. She ain’t what I wanna look at, anyway.”
“Tired of hearin’ no from ’er. That fuckin’ scar-faced bitch ain’t gonna tell me no this time.” Those words are drenched in arrogance and malevolence.
“Fuck.” Felton says this on a sigh, but his booted feet trail after his friend.
Great. Just what I wanted. I bite off another chunk of beef stick and chew, mumbling to myself, “And round two of Pissing off an Asshole starts—”
“Hey, bitch!”
“Now,” I finish with a sigh. The person in line ahead of me whips her head around with a What the hell? expression.
“The fuck you lookin’ at?” Ronnie bites out the taunting words, and the lady casts him a sharp glare but dutifully snaps back around.
She doesn’t have any beef with him—and probably doesn’t want to, either. Plus, I’m nothing to her. Only a few people could give two shits about me, and one of them is Travis, but he’s a toothpick who’d be snapped in half in a heartbeat by this asshole.
Body heat and his sweaty stench assail my nostrils as Ronnie crowds even closer. “You think you’re better than us, huh?” He knocks off my ball cap, but I don’t react. I let it topple to the store’s scuffed floor.
“In terms of what?” I take another bite of my beef stick. Chewing thoughtfully, I muse, “You mean, better than people who expect a woman to fall at their feet just because they have a male appendage?”
The old lady who just walked in stares at me in disgust, her gaze sweeping over the case of beer in my hold. She’s probably a holy roller. They’re in great abundance in these parts.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against people worshipping whatever god they want. What I do have a problem with is when they don’t practice what they preach and act all high and mighty when they’re just as sinful and imperfect as the rest of us.
Jesus had wine with his dinner. Why can’t I have beer with mine? And if they’re offended by a woman who doesn’t mince words, that’s just plain sad.
I arch my brows and match her stare. Mouth pinched as though she’s tasted something rancid, she snaps her head back around to focus on the assortment of gum and mints on display.
The line moves forward, and Travis starts ringing up the lady in front of me. I silently beg for the transaction to be as speedy as possible so I can get the fuck away from these assholes.
A hand suddenly grabs a fistful of my hair, catching me off guard and jerking me backward. I stumble against him, and the smirk is evident in his voice when he murmurs in my ear. “I think a little scar-face like you needs to be taught a lesson.”
His hold on my hair tightens, pulling painfully at the roots. “Be grateful when a man pays you attention.”
I grit against the discomfort. “I might, but I didn’t see a man.” After a millisecond of a pause, I add, “But I did see a pathetic excuse for an overgrown little boy.”
“You fuckin’ bitch!” His other hand swiftly moves to grip my jaw, and he squeezes so hard it begins to ache.