A Hand of Spades

Chapter 9. Pearl's Place

The drive is dark and silent. Throckmorton County is asleep all around us. Occasionally I'll see the blinking of fireflies across the fields, signaling for each other across the night. My knee bounces impatiently. Cash is fuming, his eyes locked firmly on the road.

"What did I say about women and children?" He asks gruffly.

"You said you don't hurt them."

"You need convincing all of a sudden."

"Not all of a sudden." I whip my head to face him. "You can't expect me to take your word for it."

"You were fine not seeing your sister before. What changed?"

"Cori." I watch him carefully from the corner of my eye. He doesn't even flinch at the name. "Our bartender knows Tex, and she looked scared shitless of him. Care to explain that?"

He says nothing, his nostrils flare. I'm overstepping, but I couldn't care less.

"I should have asked to see my sister right away."

"But you put distance between the two of you instead." He cocks his head towards me. "Why is that?"

"You wanted to keep us separate!"

"You agreed."

"It was a bad judgement call." I huff. My pulse is rapid against my throat. "She's a perceptive kid. She'll know I got my ass beat and she'll have questions. I was trying to avoid that."

"You can't keep her in the dark forever."

"I know." I snap. "Clearly."

I watch his jaw tighten, suddenly fascinated by the elevated rise and fall of his chest. When Hoyt is angry, he's a whirlwind of thrown fists and curses. When Cash is angry, it's like someone put a lid on an ocean storm and contained it behind his eyes. He's got control over his temper. 

They're different men. I remind myself. Maybe this late-night drive to see Blister was irrational, but I still don't know where I stand with Cash; with the Spades. I don't know why he wants the Stella or why he needs someone on the inside, and he's reluctant to tell me. I don't know why Cori looked petrified when she looked at Tex. I just need to confirm that Blister is okay. At the least, Cash seems to understand that.

I've been looking at him for too long, drinking him in. I tear my gaze away.

Pearl's place is a tiny two story with weathered white trim. It's one of a few identical homes on a street just South of downtown, by the lake. Across the water there's an old golf course. We went there once with one of Mom's boyfriends a few years before Blister was born. I remember he let me hit a ball and we watched it vanish over the trees.

"Shit kid, that's quite the swing. Remind me not to piss you off." 

I'd liked that boyfriend. He had a laugh like a chainsaw. I don't have a memory of him without a cigarette in his hand. He kept me at an arms length for the most part, but he was nice enough. It was rare she picked good ones. I can't remember when exactly he left or why. Blister's father came next. 

"Dallas." Cash's hand brushes over mine, jarring me back to reality with a  jolt of electricity. He nods in the direction of the porch.

Someone must have called to warn her we were coming. Pearl is a stocky woman with pale silvery hair that almost glows in the moonlight. She's standing by the front door in a white nightgown, arms folded in what seems to be a familial stance of disappointment.

When I climb out of the truck, she gives me a cautious once-over. "You're the older sister then."

"Yeah."