“Stand up.” She ordered the girl.
“Don’t do it,” Billy commanded, still cowering next to the bed.
“Get. Up!” Clem screamed, teetering on the verge of crazy.
“Settle,” I said with a gentle warning. I needed to diffuse this before it got out of control.
“Oh, I’m plenty settled.” But her shaking hands betrayedher and I could tell she was verging on hysterical. “What’s your name, honey?”
“L-Lyla.” The girl could hardly get it out.
“Lyla?” Clem let out a baleful laugh that was downright terrifying. “Drop the blanket!”
Lyla jumped out of the bed, tangled in the quilt, practically tripping onto the floor.
“My granny Eudora crocheted that blanket for my momma when she graduated high school and now I’m going to have to burn it,” Clem said through gritted teeth. “Drop it, Lyla!” she screamed. This chick must be out of her mind. Didn’t she know Clem was two seconds away from tearing her limb from limb?
As if someone finally plugged her brain in, Lyla threw the blanket like it was on fire.
As soon as it hit the floor, Clem snapped a picture of the two of them standing there naked together. Then she took two more, just in case. Apparently, that was enough. 'Cause she turned and handed my phone back. “Can you send those to me?” Then she bolted back down the stairs.
“What’re you going to do with those pictures, Lemon?” Billy called out.
I shot him a warning glare. “I think you should count yourself lucky she left you with all your body parts.”
“Lem, come back!” Billy yelled. “I messed up, babe! Let’s talk about this?” He searched frantically for his clothes.
I bounded down the stairs to find Clem. When I got to the first floor, she was frantically rummaging through the drawers of an old desk. She’d yank one drawer open, rifle through it, slam it shut, and move on to the next. Black trails of mascara tracked all over her cheeks. With each drawer that turned up blank, her breathing got heavier and faster, her eyes more desperate. Whatever she needed, I had to get it for her, and fast—before she hyperventilated and passed out.
I placed a hand over hers. “What’re you looking for?”
Her chest heaved a few times, and she gasped for air, her eyes wild. She pulled her hand from mine and went through another drawer. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and tried another drawer. I’d never seen anything like this in my entire life. This depth of pain. It was worse than Sophie dying. Okay, not worse. Different. But heart-wrenching.
Sophie told me once that she’d tried desperately to talk Clem out of marrying Billy. Clem wouldn’t listen. She was so sure that Billy was only going to get better with age. Up until the day she died, Sophie had nothing positive to say about him. Mom always chalked it up to jealousy. Thought that Clem marrying Billy gave Sophie less time with her. But maybe Mom was wrong. I mean, I’d never liked that viper, but I’d always thought it was because I was in love with his wife. Maybe Sophie could see this coming all along.
Clem’s breaths were shallow and uneven now. She swayed.
I grabbed her by the shoulders. “Breathe. You have to breathe. Just a couple of breaths.Please.”
She shook her head, looking down at the ground. But she inhaled and exhaled deeply a few times.
I held her hands in mine and ducked so we were at eye level. “What do you need from me?” I asked in the most soothing voice I could muster.
She finally breathed out, “A pocket knife.”
I was so relieved she said something coherent that I didn’t even think. Just said, “Okay.” I jammed my hand into my pants pocket, grateful I’d started the habit back when I was ten. Since the day my dad’s hot-headed horse Trooper bucked me off. My foot had gotten tangled in her lead and she’d dragged me halfway home before I got loose. I slid it out of my pocket.
Something happened when I placed that knife in herhand. The tears stopped and her expression turned dangerous. What was she planning to do with it?
“Thank you.” She flicked it open easily and studied the blade for a second. “That’ll do.”For what?I wanted to shake her.
I was afraid she was going back up the stairs to shiv Billy and Last-call Lyla in the gut. But she turned and went the opposite direction back out into the sunshine. I almost exhaled until she walked right up to Billy’s brand new truck, and that one Carrie Underwood song rang through my mind.
She wouldn’t.
But her furious eyes said, oh yes, she would.
“Don’t do something you’ll regret,” I warned. “No sense in going to jail for that prick.”
