Another Kind of Eden (Holland Family Saga 3)

“After I fucked her brains out.”

“Don’t use that language, Darrel,” Mr. Vickers said.

“Your son smeared his feces all over Jo Anne’s house,” I said.

“He did what?”

“That’s the way a succubus operates,” I said. “It probably has something to do with toilet training.”

“Darrel?” Mr. Vickers said.

“He’s lying, Daddy.”

“Darrel has done things like this before, hasn’t he?” I said.

Mr. Vickers knotted my shirt in his fist. “I’ll break your teeth.”

“You’re a smart man, Mr. Vickers. How did you get mixed up with drug traffickers?”

He tightened his grip on my shirt. “I don’t have anything to do with drugs.”

“You want your son putting dope in his arm?”

He hit me in the mouth. I felt the blow all the way to my knees; the inside of my mouth tasted like pennies. I spat in the dirt. “You can tear me up, Mr. Vickers, but your son will always remain a coward. That’s because of you, sir, not a succubus. Early on, you made him hate himself. That’s why he suffocated the little girl in the refrigerator.”

“Shut him up, Daddy,” Darrel said.

“I was good to him,” Mr. Vickers said. “I loved him. His mother tried to baby him. I made him a man.”

“Is that the way he sees it?” I asked.

Mr. Vickers looked at his son. “Tell him, Darrel.”

“Tell him what?”

“I loved you. I took care of you. I was proud of you.”

“That’s a tough sale, Dads. You made me cut my own switch.”

“I did not.”

“I was four or five the first time. I had on short pants. You whipped my legs until they were red all over. You knew how to do it, Dads.”

“That’s a goddamn lie,” Mr. Vickers said. His face twitched violently, his right shoulder shaking.

“That M1 on your shoulder acting up, Dads?” Darrel said.

“I don’t know what it’s doing,” Mr. Vickers said. “Here, I don’t want the rifle.”

“Does it feel like it’s alive?” Darrel said.

“Take it.”

“When I told you it was alive, you made fun of me.”

Mr. Vickers swallowed, then pushed the rifle off his shoulder as though it were attached to his skin. When it hit the ground, he stepped away from it.

“Do you know why I shot Mr. Lowry, Daddy?” Darrel said.