Save a Truck, Ride a Redneck by Molly Harper

Author:Molly Harper
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Star Books

MARIANNE SPENT MOST OF HER captivity coming up with increasingly creative and violent insults to her brother and cousin. She called Frankie a sociopathic wackaloon and implied that Duffy’s genitalia were merely decorative. She threatened to find Frankie’s favorite childhood bear, Mr. Wizzer, and leave him out for the coyotes. She threatened to tell their parents what really happened the day Duffy claimed a rogue Asian carp somehow destroyed the outboard motor on Donna’s new boat.

While Duffy was frightened into silence, Frankie cackled. Marianne was going to have to brush up on her threatening skills.

The boat slowed to a stop and while he was opening the door, Duffy said, “Now, Marianne, remember I did this because I love you . . . and Frankie thought you would find this much, much funnier.”

“Cut me loose or I will tell Mama what Lana was doing to distract you when you ran her boat aground,” Marianne growled.

Duffy carefully tugged his pocketknife through the duct tape and then ran into the trees. Frankie pulled the bag over her head, leaving Marianne’s hair a frizzy, molasses-scented mess.

Marianne told her, “Run.”

Frankie blew out an amused raspberry sound. “If we hadn’t kidnapped you, you wouldn’t have come with us.”

“What does that tell you?”

“That you’re about as fun as canned potato salad,” Frankie told her.

Marianne realized that the boat was one of a dozen or so docked on an island about the size of a baseball diamond, sparsely populated by spindly live oak trees. A couple of guys Marianne recognized from high school were stoking a healthy bonfire in the center of the little spit of land. Dozens of people from her class were milling around the island, chatting and drinking beer from classic red Coleman coolers. A few of them waved, and Marianne waggled her fingers in return, very aware that she looked like she’d just been rolled out of a feed sack. Because she had.

“Make-Out Island?” Marianne sighed, running her fingers through her dark hair. “You brought me to Make-Out Island?”

“A couple of people heard you were back in town and wanted to celebrate your return with a bonfire.”

“So you delivered me to the birthplace of VD?” Marianne groaned. Make-Out Island probably had a proper name, assigned when the Army Corps of Engineers dammed the Chattahoochee and created Lake Sackett. It was one of several “large enough to walk on, but too small to inhabit” islands dotting the interior of the lake. And this one just happened to be the premier spot for local high school students to experiment with alcohol and various other activities nice Baptist kids weren’t supposed to enjoy.

Marianne wondered if her bra was still hanging from the tree where she and Carl had carved their initials. High winds and woodland nudity were not a good combination.

“Was this really a welcome home party for me, or were y’all just eager to relive your drunken glory days?” Marianne asked as her cousin dragged her toward the fire pit.

“Six of one, half a dozen of th’other,” Frankie said.

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