Abby's Scar Read online

  ABBY’S SCAR

  A Novel by Q.C. Masters

  Smashwords Edition

  Published by:

  Shadoe Publishing for

  Q.C. Masters on Smashwords

  Copyright © Q.C. Masters February 2013

  ABBY’S SCAR

  Smashwords Edition License Notes:

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  Q.C. Masters is available for comments at [email protected] as well as on Facebook http://www.facebook.com/QcMastersFans, or on Twitter @ @qcmastersgmailc, or on the website @ www.QCMasters.com if you would like to follow to find out about stories and book’s releases or check with

  www. ShadoePublishing.com or http://ShadoePublishing.wordpress.com/.

   Pressure 

  “Damn it, Abby! Don't you like Wyatt? You two like all the same things: country music, hiking, Army crap.” said Cindy, putting her hands on the hips of her floral dress. She was all sweet smiles when out, but Abby often got the brunt of her temper behind closed doors.

  Abby brushed the fiery red hair from her brown eyes and looked down at Cindy, who was probably half her stature. “He's a sorry excuse for a man! He's rude, and he's hairy, and he smells like an old gym sock. He never knows what to say. The only reason I'm going out with him is for you. I got no idea why you're complaining!”

  “Because the four of us have been going out for almost a month now. I'm having a great time with Cody. And your being a sour puss is going to spoil everything! Why can't you give a little sugar up for Wyatt? He's going to dump you, you know! And Cody is Wyatt's best friend. If he's not dating you, I'll get dumped for sure.”

  “You don't know that! Cody really likes you. He'll stay.”

  “No. Those two are inseparable. You better not screw this up!”

  “I don't care! I'll be glad to be rid of him!”

  Cindy crossed her arms. “You don't mean that!” She pressed her glossy lips together and squinted her pretty blue eyes. “You're impossible! I don't know why we're still best friends after the trouble you cause me. All I want is to go steady. But my BFF is always single. No boy is good enough for you. This one's too fat. That's one's too skinny. This one's too stupid. That one's too hairy. You're never satisfied!”

  Abby shrugged, her plentiful freckles lending her an air of innocence. “Sorry I'm so picky. I haven't found anyone that sparks my interest yet.”

  “We go to the biggest high school in Fort Worth. Not one sparks your interest?”

  Abby stared blankly at the wall for several moments as she absorbed Cindy's point. “I guess not.”

  “Abby!” Cindy flailed her arms in frustration. “I don't know what's up with you, but I like boys! I like them a lot! And when you're all cold fish, it makes hanging with you a pain. Why can't you just pick a boy you can date and have some fun?”

  “I will when I meet one that...”

  “What?”

  “...well, someone I like.”

  “Gaaawwd, Abby! You need to figure out who you are! Well, fine. If you're not going to date for your own sake, then at least date for mine. It's Saturday night. When we see the guys at Rooster's tonight, please, Abby, show Wyatt a good time!”

  Abby turned to Cindy and held out a stern finger. “I'm going out with him as a friend. Gettin' physical, that's a whole nuther thing. You and Cody better not be lightin' out on me again tonight.”

  Cindy stared at her a moment dead pan and crossed her arms. “Fine. You'll have your chaperone.”

  “Swear it?”

  “I swear.”

  The two girls stood in stand off a minute until Abby finally broke the silence. “Come on. Let's go downstairs and watch some T.V. until Cody shows up.”

  Cindy frowned. “Just one thing for me?”

  “What?”

  “Could you just smile for Wyatt tonight?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You never smile! Girls are much prettier when they smile. You'd look so nice if you smiled.”

  Abby's response was a grimace.

  Cindy sighed and followed her downstairs.

   Rant 

  Cindy followed Abby into the family room where they found Abby's father. The older man was still physically fit and trim, but worn beyond his years with a salt and pepper flat top.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  He tipped his head in acknowledgment at the girls' arrival. Abby sat in the couch with her father, leaving the recliner for Cindy.

  “It's Saturday. Aren't you girls going out tonight?”

  “Of course, Dad. Cody's on his way now. Should be fifteen or so.”

  “Ah.”

  Mr. Smith turned his attention back to the news.

  A reporter appeared on the screen, the wind blowing her long, dark hair. She stood on a bright sun washed tarmac. “And now a touching local story, Todd. A tale of two soldiers, Chad and Douglas. Gay boyfriends in high school, they enlisted in the Army together three and a half years ago. They applied for special consideration to be stationed together, but as we know, a military at war can make no promises. Chad was sent to Eastern Afghanistan, Douglas to Iraq.

  Despite the dangerous assignments, both survived and kept their relationship vibrant with constant contact. After Iraq, Douglas was reassigned to the embassy in Indonesia. Just two months from his end of service he was wounded in the embassy bombing there. He was hospitalized for burns and injuries to his legs. Not two weeks later, Chad was shot in the abdomen by a sniper in Afghanistan.

  For days it was unclear whether he would survive. Douglas was unable to travel. He had intended to propose when they arrived back in the States, but when he heard about Chad's condition, he could wait no longer. He made this card by hand and had it sent by military courier to Chad's bedside so that it would be there when he regained consciousness.”

  The screen changed to show a poorly lit image of a card with two hearts on it. It was badly drawn, and colored as if by crayon.

  “Chad woke up after three days to find the card by his bedside. He claims it had a miraculous effect on his dramatic recovery. With their difficult stations, they never could get manage to coordinate leave at the same time. Today those two men are to be reunited for the first time since they left the States in service of their country.”

  The reporter disappeared and in her place the image of two Army soldiers coming together in a strong embrace filled the screen.

  “Oh, god!” groaned Mr. Smith. “What is the world coming to?” Both girls turned their attention to him, sensing his strong emotions about subject and keeping very quiet. “It's disgusting! Don't ask, don't tell was bad enough, but now they're letting them do this out in the open? Christ! The whole damned Army is going to become one friggin' love fest! Jesus!” He swooped his arms and glared at the women as if to say, isn't this obvious to everyone?

  “Do I really have to explain how badly all this gay crap screws everything up? I mean, that's why we don't have women fighting alongside men, for crying out loud! Men don't think straight when women are around. We don't focus on the job. We just want to protect the women! And now the Army is going to be chuck full of these frickin' fags! It's the same problem! They're not going to fight like they're supposed to! They're going to be thinkin' about Mary-Jane in the trench with them, and how they need to protect their rump ranger buddy. It's just wrong. No, it's sick. They need to get these people help, not thro
w them a party. Christ.” He waved his hand dismissively at the T.V. and looked away.

  Abby peered at Cindy. She could sense an anger in her. Her lip furled and it took an obvious effort for her not to squint.

  “Come on, Cindy. Cody's about here. Why don't we wait outside?”

  She got up and Cindy followed behind.

  “Be home by one, Abby!” her father called.

  “Yeah, Dad!”

  Outside in the muggy night air, Abby observed Cindy. She stood stiffly.

  “You okay?”

  “It's nothing.”

  “Well, you look fit to be tied.”

  “What's that homophobia crap with your dad?”

  “Oh, don't listen to him. He's just old fashioned.”

  “Abby, I don't know your take on it, but my cousin is gay, and I love him like my brother. I can't take it when somebody spouts that shit. I mean it.”

  “Just ignore him.”

  “You're not buying any of his bullshit, are you?”

  Abby shrugged. “I don't know. I never thought about it much.”

  Cindy leaned toward Abby to make her point. “Well, don't listen to a word of it. He has no idea what he's talking about.”

  Abby put up her hands defensively. “Heck, can we just talk about something else?”

  Cindy scowled at her lack of conviction. “Yeah.”

  “There's Cody.” Abby pointed down the street.

  The two girls walked toward the street to greet their driver.

   Rooster's 

  Abby, Cindy, and Cody pushed their way past two cowboys to enter Rooster's Bar and Grill. Abby peered through the smoke to scan the crowd for their fourth. Wyatt was coming directly from his shift at the sandwich shop. She hoped he'd been delayed. Even better, maybe he wouldn't make it at all.

  Abby was the last one to have Rowdy check her fake Id. She searched the crowd as he handed it back to her. Abby winced. No such luck. Wyatt was already there, digging his finger far into his ear. His greasy mane fell in dark curls over his hand as he did. He wrinkled his round face and his pudgy nose. A two day shadow covered his cheeks and neck. Abby couldn't abide facial hair.

  She followed Cindy and Cody over to Wyatt's table.

  “Hey, Wyatt!” said Cindy.

  “What's going on, Cody?”

  The two men shook hands.

  As Cody sat down, Wyatt's eyes lit up as he took in the sight of Abby.

  “You sure look fine tonight, Abby.”

  She looked herself over. In her red flannel plaid shirt and jeans, she wore almost the same thing that Wyatt did. They could have been siblings. But for Cindy's sake, she would be polite. “Thanks.”

  Cindy whispered to her. “Smile.”

  Abby, annoyed, elbowed her.

  Cody raised his arms over his head. “Ready to get wild?”

  “How-dee!”

  “Damn, we need some beer! I'm buying first round.” Cody dug out his wallet and produced a twenty. “Here, Cindy, go get us a pitcher.”

  The evening went smoothly, starting off with pool and conversation. The quartet moved on to their second pitcher. When the fourth came up, Cody offered to pay again. “I'm doin' a whisky this time.” Pointing at Wyatt, he asked, “You want one?” Wyatt nodded.

  “I'll take this round,” said Abby.

  “Naw. Ladies, this is our treat.”

  “If it's all the same to you, I'd like to pitch in. My money's just as green as yours!”

  Cody put his hand up. “Abby, don't worry about it. We got this.”

  Abby cocked her head. “I insist.”

  Cody's hand gesture turned open. “Well, shoot. Don't get all flustered!”

  “Come on, Cindy. Let's go get the next round.”

  She led Cindy to the bar across the room. The bar was nearly invisible behind shoulder to shoulder cowboys and cowgirls. The pair went down the end of the bar to the wait station. There they waited, watching the three bartenders dart to and fro furiously.

  After several minutes a thick, hairy bartender with a handlebar mustache leaned toward them. “What'll ya have?”

  Abby smiled. “Evening, Mac. One pitcher of Coors Light. Three Maker's Mark, one on the rocks. You want anything extra Cindy?”

  “Bloody Mary.”

  “And a Bloody Mary. That'll be it.”

  A minute later and the order was filled. Abby paid and left a few dollars extra.

  “Cindy, can you grab the bourbons?”

  “Yes.”

  The two meandered their way back to the table.

  Abby filled up the beer glasses.

  “Thanks, Abby,” said Wyatt.

  “Yeah, cheers to Abby. But next round's on me!” said Cody.

  “Fine by me,” said Abby. She looked at the pool table. “Who's turn is it?”

  “Cindy's.”

  Abby sat down in the nearest chair. She leaned over and checked the whiskey glasses. There were only two and neither had ice.

  Cindy was walking the table, looking for a shot.

  “Cindy, where's my bourbon?”

  “Did you order one? I only grabbed two.”

  “Cindy!”

  Abby leapt up and hurried back to the wait station. There was no glass waiting for her. She pursed her lips.

  She waited until Mac passed nearby and caught his attention. “Did you see my drink here? Cindy left it.”

  “No. I've been over here since your order.”

  She frowned. No surprise that an orphan whiskey wouldn't last sixty seconds in a cowboy bar.

  “I'll need another when you have a chance.”

  “What was it?”

  “Maker's Mark on the rocks.”

  “It'll be a minute.”

  She nodded and turned to face the wall. Abby closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair. She drifted into the soothing effect of the alcohol and relaxed into nothing for a few minutes.

  A tap on the shoulder broke her meditation. She turned to see Mac's stoic face. He pointed down at a fresh bourbon on the rocks. Abby threw down a new payment plus tip.

  “Thanks, Mac.”

  He gave her no acknowledgment.

  Abby made her way back the group. But to her dismay, the group consisted of only Wyatt.

  “Where are Cody and Cindy?”

  Wyatt looked up at her from his chair as innocent as a child. “Cindy said she was getting sick, said she needed to leave. Cody asked if I could take you home. I hope that's okay.”

  Abby pursed her lips. Her nose flared. She stood for a moment, then sat down and crossed her arms.

  Wyatt watched her for a few moments. “You look all swole up.”

  “I'm wore out. Take me home.”

  “And leave all the beer?”

  “Yes!”

  Wyatt took a step back. “All right. Let's go.”

  Abby stepped up into Wyatt's tall, black rig. He must have poured every dime he got into this thing and then some. It wasn't new, but it wasn't too old either, and Wyatt polished it with all the love of a doting parent.

  Wyatt looked over at her. “I got something to do on the way back. Mind if we make a quick detour?”

  “Yeah, as long as it's quick.”

  Wyatt pulled out, and Rooster's lights faded into the darkness.

  Abby watched the corn stalk shadows whiz past her window.

  “You aggravated?” asked Wyatt. “Did I do something?”

  “No. I'm good.” Abby turned to give Wyatt a reassuring look.

  Minutes further brought them into the outskirts of town. Wyatt turned left on a cross-street and followed through to a highway. He drove about five minutes. He slowed and turned off the road into a pathway so small Abby hardly saw it before the forest swallowed them up.

  Wyatt idled through the brush. A racket filled the cab of slaps and clicks, plus the occasional screech of a branch dragging across paint. Abby looked at Wyatt. He was smiling.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You'll
see.”

  The truck began to gain altitude, which was odd, because the terrain in the area was nearly as flat as a sheet of paper. The trees thinned and they crested the top of a hill. It wasn't a huge hill, but high enough that it gave them a view of Fort Worth. The lights of the city spread out below them in a living web.

  “It's amazing, isn't it?”

  Abby gaped at the sight. “It's incredible. I've never seen the city like this. What is this place?”

  “I came out here to look at a horse trailer with my cousin. We saw the hill, and the owner gave me permission to bring you here tonight.”

  Abby put her hand to her chest. “Oh, Wyatt, that's really sweet of ya!”

  He smiled and leaned toward her. Abby's eyes widened, but before she had a chance to decide what to do, he pressed into her, and his lips engaged. Cindy's voice echoed in her head, Show Wyatt a good time! Abby relaxed as Wyatt slid his hand around her side. She tried to enjoy him as his tongue nestled her lips, nipping at her like a puppy. His odor seeped across her, an odor that was all wrong.

  Wyatt's hand slide up her back. He leaned further in. His tongue broke entry into her mouth and she squinted, trying not to gag. Wyatt's hand slipped under her arms and crept over her breast. A tingle teased her pleasantly, but it was balanced by a sense of panic.

  Abby's eyes searched the cab roof. What was wrong with her? She should be enjoying this! At least, she should be able to cope with it. Wyatt caressed. Waves of the proper arousal began to placate her stressed body. Maybe this was going to work out after all.

  Wyatt release both of the seat belts and leaned further into Abby's space. He kneaded her chest. He kissed her neck. Abby closed her eyes and fought to relax.

  Then he took her hand. He brought it down his body. She cringed as it passed his belt. No, she thought. Not there. She thought of his hairy, erect organ.

  “Stop!”

  “What?”

  “I can't do that.”

  “Can't do what?”

  “Uh... I'm not ready to go that far.”