The Things She Says Read Online Free Page A

remote. “And don’t you pass judgment down your prissy little nose, either. I ain’t drunk. I’m hungry because you ran off and forgot about cooking me dinner. Your job is here.”
    “Sorry, Daddy. I don’t mean to be disrespectful.” She bit her lip and pushed on. “But I’m moving to Dallas soon, like I’ve been telling you for months. You and the boys have to figure out how to do things for yourselves.”
    Jenny Porter’s cousin was buying a condo and had offered to rent the extra bedroom to VJ, but it wasn’t built yet and wouldn’t be until September. Fall couldn’t get here fast enough.
    Daddy shook his head. “The Good Lord put women on this earth to cook, clean and have a man’s babies. You can do that right here in Little Crooked Creek.”
    “I’m not staying here to enable you to drink yourself into the grave.” Her dry eyes burned. “I’m tired. I’m sorry about Gus’s truck and for forgetting your dinner. But I’m done here.” She turned and took a step toward her room.
    Daddy’s fingernails bit into her upper arm as he spun her and yanked until her face was inches from his. “Don’t you turn your back on me, girl.” Alcohol-laced breath gushed from his mouth and turned her stomach with its stench. “You’ll quit your job and forget about running off to live in that devil’s den.”
    He emphasized each word with a shake that rattled her entire body. Tears sprang up as he squeezed the forming bruises. For the first time since her mother’s death, she was genuinely afraid of her father and what he might do. Mama had always been the referee. Her lone defender and supporter in a household of males. VJ didn’t have her mother’s patience or her saintly ability to overlook Daddy’s faults.
    If she could escape to her room, she could grab some clothes and dash over to Pamela Sue’s house.
    “Thought you were pretty smart hiding all that money under the bed in your unmentionables box,” he said.
    It took her a second. “You were snooping in my room?”
    She jerked her arm free as panic flitted up her back. Surely he hadn’t looked inside the tampon box. Her brothers wouldn’t have touched it with a ten-foot pole, and she’d been smugly certain it was the perfect hiding place.
    “This is my house and so’s everything in it. Needed me a new truck. Tackle got it in El Paso today.” Her father smirked and nodded toward the rear of the house.
    The room tilted as she looked out the back window. In the driveway of the detached garage sat a brand-new truck with paper plates.
    “You stole my money? All of it?” Her lungs collapsed and breath whooshed out, strangling her.
    “My house, so it’s my money.”
    Her money was gone.
    She could have opened an account at Sweetwater Bank where Aunt Mary worked after all. Then Daddy might have found out about the money but wouldn’t have been able to touch it. Hindsight.
    What was she going to do? Most of the money had been Mama’s, slipped to VJ on the sly when her prognosis had turned bad. It would take at least a week to earn enough at Pearl’s to buy a bus ticket. Never mind eating or any other basic necessities. Like rent.
    Numb to the bone, she blurted, “My money, so it’s my truck. Give me the keys.” She held out a palm and tried to remember what Daddy had been like before Mama died, but that man was long gone.
    He guffawed. “The keys are hid good, and it’s got anti-theft, so don’t even think about hot-wiring it. Now that you see how things are gonna go, getcher butt in the kitchen and fix me something to eat.”
    “No, Daddy. You’ve gone too far. Do it yourself.”
    A blow knocked her to the side, almost off her feet. Tiny needles of pain swept the surface of her cheek. She’d never seen the cuff coming.
    “I’m tired of your mouth, girl. While you’re in the kitchen, clean up a little, too, why don’t ya? The boys left dishes in the sink.” He fell into the recliner as if nothing had changed.
    Her cheekbone