Bad Seed

I didn’t ride the tractors. I could fix them, but I wouldn't ride them. Setting aside the fact that my knee was always gonna be in pain from being shattered and replaced, that fucking thing took my mother from me. The mere idea of sitting on it gave me nightmares. Seeing my momma trying to pull me from its path. They were fucking monstrous machines, and I didn’t dare get on top of them anymore.

But Paul loved the fucking things, so he was the one dealing with the delivery.

I stayed out back with his horse while the delivery took place. Paul signed for it and gathered the paperwork, then came around the corner of the house with a smile on his face. He was whoopin’ and hollerind’ like some babe had just taken her top off and tossed it at him. He drove it all the way back to the barn as I leaned against the house, catching my breath and feeling the sweat pour down my back.

Paul was so busy drooling over his expensive new toy that he forgot about his damn horse. I hopped onto the back of the beautiful animal and rode it all the way back to the barn where I found Paul stroking and eyeballing the damn tractor. Hell, I half expected him to whip out his dick and fuck it. I laughed as I shook my head, then got his horse into a spare stall so I could feed and water the damn thing.

“When you’re done makin’ love to that tractor of yours, your horse is in the barn,” I said.

“Hey. This thing is a beauty. Must’ve cost you a fortune. Thanks, Drake. It’s really gonna help around here,” Paul said.

“Fuckin’ hope it does. A fortune is only half of what I paid for that thing.”

I walked back up to the house as the sun began to rise high in the sky. My stomach was growling for lunch but my mind kept wandering back to Delia. Had she gotten to work okay? Did she have something to eat? Should I take her something? Would that piss her off even more?

Walking into the house, I knocked off my boots, then went in search of my phone. I didn’t keep it on me while I was out in the fields. Too many things could break the thing like it was a cheap piece of plastic. But as I strode around my house trying to find it, panic started rising in my chest.

I didn’t even know why. I just panicked.

Picking up my phone, the screen lit up. No missed calls. No new text messages. No nothing. Delia hadn’t called, hadn’t messaged. I opened my phone and scrolled to her number, ready call just to hear her voice.

But a sound coming up the driveway caught my attention.

I ran toward the front door and whipped it open. The sound of a truck coming up the driveway sent my heart into overdrive. It was Delia. It had to be. Maybe she was coming to have lunch with me. Or maybe she left something behind. Or maybe her boss had sent her home and she was bringing her laptop over.

I’d fucking take anything over this worry I felt boiling in the pit of my gut.

But the moment Hank’s truck crested the horizon, my worry gave way to anger. I knew it wasn’t logical to be angry at the man for bringing Delia her truck, but I couldn’t help it.

“Hey Drake,” Hank said, as he slammed his door shut. “You ready to go over tour dates?”

“Nope,” I said. “Just stoppin’ for lunch.”

“Then I’ll stay until you’ve got some time. We really gotta punch this stuff out before tomorrow,” he said.

“You talked to Delia today?” I asked.

“Nope. Haven’t heard from her. Why? Has something happened again?”

“No, but that is my concern. She would’ve been fine if she hadn’t had her truck here to leave in.”

“Drake, you can’t keep her prisoner here—”

“I’m not keeping her prisoner,” I said with a roar. “I’m not her warden.”

“You sure as hell are acting like one,” Hank said. “When she called asking for her truck, she gave me the rundown. Remember what your therapist keeps telling you.”

“And what the fuck would you know about my therapist?” I asked.

“He says with how you’re programmed, you’re gonna try to exert control over things when you start craving. You been craving?”

“I don’t want fucking alcohol. I want Delia. I want the mother of my child safe in my arms. In this house, where I can watch over her and make sure she doesn’t end up--” I stopped myself. I was afraid of losing Delia like I'd lost Shannon and Ava. It was in my head, but I couldn't just make it go away.

“You’re gonna have to get over that. You’re going on tour tomorrow, and she sure as hell isn’t coming along,” Hank said. “So whatever this control thing is you got goin’ on, squash it. Otherwise, you’re gonna lose her before you even had her.”

“Hank, you know what I've been through, man. I can't just let her go. I can't lose her.”

Hank sighed. “Been divorced twice, so I’m not the person to be consulting on women. My point is, you're trying to control her. You think you’re protecting her, but you’re just trying to run her life. She’s not an animal. She ain’t one of your pregnant heifers. She’s an independent woman who’s trying her best, and every time you go over her head, you’re telling her that her best ain’t good enough. That you can do better and she can’t. Cut that shit out.”