Waking Up the Devil by Chris Miller

Author:Chris Miller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Down & Out Books

Twenty-Six

Waylon rides in the passenger seat of a giant 3500 Chevy, whose design is as much for a sultan as it is for hauling heavy loads. Every amenity is included, and he adjusts the seat heaters from high to low as he moves his cell phone from one ear to the other.

“You in place?” Ash hears him say as he chauffeurs his father to the trade. It’s humiliating, the position he finds himself in. Utterly fucked up beyond recognition is simply too slight a saying to describe it. If only his father had brought him in on the goddamned operations, if only he had been in the loop.

But he wasn’t in the loop. He’s not in the loop now. He thinks his father is on the phone with Darryl, but can’t say that for a certainty. He is only here because Waylon said he needed to learn a hard lesson about leadership.

That, and his father knows how much Ash hates to drive anyone around.

“We’ll get this shit wrapped up quick, I reckon,” Waylon says in a sour drawl. “Talk soon.”

He hangs up his phone and slips it in his breast pocket. He doesn’t say anything. Just stares forward at the pitted gravel road as they rock back and forth over it. Ash starts to speak a couple of times but loses his nerve at the last minute.

The little brother is groaning and kicking in the back seat. Lot of nerve to put your feet against Waylon Blackshears leather. But Ash’s father doesn’t seem to notice any of it. His steely eyes are still fixed straight forward, crow’s feet pronounced in frustration.

Ash sees a clearing another fifty yards ahead and part of what he can tell is the old screen. He glances at his father using only his eyes and takes a breath.

“You know, this would have worked. My plan, I mean. If you had let me know about—”

Waylon’s hand zips out like a striking snake, and his fist balls into Ash’s collar. He yelps and stands on the brakes as his father yanks him over center console.

“You don’t get to say his goddamn name, boy,” Waylon hisses in his face, the hot breath blowing through Ash’s hair. “You don’t get to even think it, and if I ever suspect you are, I’ll kill you myself. You know I had to inform Theresa about him? That’s what leaders do. The buck stops with them. End of the line. And his wife will never have to worry about money again. Can you take a guess at why?”

Ash tries to move, but his father’s hand is a block of cement.

“Because—”

“Shut your fucking mouth, maggot!” Waylon growls.

Ash does, with a gulp.

“It’s because it’s the honorable thing to do,” Waylon goes on. “And that’s what a good leader does. He doesn’t make excuses. If only this, if only that. No. He takes the situation by the horns and makes it right.”

He flings Ash back hard enough his forehead thumps the glass of the driver’s window. His foot slips off the brake and they roll a few rocky feet before he gets it stopped again.

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