Takedown Teague (Caged 1)

“It’s not the same at all,” he said. “It’s not like we’re…fuck it. You don’t get it, so there’s no point in talking about it.”

“So why don’t you enlighten me?” I suggested as I tried to hold my sarcasm at bay. “Go ahead and justify this shit, if you can.”

Brandon sighed and took a drag on the cigarette. He seemed to be getting the hang of it.

“We’re dying,” he said quietly as smoke curled around his long hair, “in a very literal way. Every year we lose more people to death than we gain from births. If we don’t do something about it, we will cease to be. Beals and our way of life would be no more.”

“It’s because of the fucking inbreeding, you know.”

“I know enough,” he said with a nod. “It was one of the reasons I went to school in Jonesport. They were offering a course in genetics. We do look outside the community to strengthen the gene pool, but it’s not that simple. There are very few people who aren’t born to this life that want to embrace it. We’re simple.”

“You mean you’re poor,” I corrected.

“That, too.” Brandon moved a couple of steps away, which allowed me to relax a little. “That’s why people like Tria are so important to us. She may not have been born here, but she grew up here. She understands us better than other outsiders.”

“That’s a crock of bullshit,” I said.

He stared at me through narrowed eyes but did not reply.

“Did you entice all the lovely ladies with promises of orgies?” My sarcasm came out again at full throttle.

“This isn’t what I want, you know!” he shouted back. “If there was another option, don’t you think I’d take it? Do you think I want her to have to go through this?”

“I dunno. Maybe you get off on it.”

“Fuck you! Like you’re any better than us.”

“Maybe not,” I said. “But I wouldn’t put up with this shit.”

“I suppose I should be impressed that you hit people for a living.” Brandon sneered. “Like hanging out in some crappy bar pummeling people is something you can consider a long-term goal. You gonna support a wife on that? You gonna tell your kids ‘It’s okay, it’s the good sort of beating people up—and they’re asking for it’?”

“Kiss my ass! You don’t know a fucking thing about what you are saying, so shut your goddamn mouth.”

He laughed.

“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” he said. “You don’t know anything about us, but you think you can stand there and judge me. I don’t know why I should be shoc

ked that doing the same to you pisses you off.”

There was something deeply flawed in his logic, I was sure, but I couldn’t come up with exactly what it was. It did make me wonder what it was like to be in his shoes. I was certainly familiar enough with the idea of family expectations weighing on your conscience. The main difference was that when push came to shove—I got the fuck out. He was going to stay here and put up with it.

“If you don’t like this shit, why do you stay?” I asked.

“A lot of reasons,” Brandon replied. “My family has been here for generations, just like almost everyone else around here. We’ve been brought up to listen to the council leader and do as he says.”

“Who’s that?”

“Leo Harrison,” Brandon said. “He’s Keith’s father. Keith will take over for him when he retires.”

“Oh, that will make thing so much better!” I didn’t try to hide the sarcasm.

“If you think Keith is fucked up, wait until you meet his father.”

“Will I want to hit him?”

“Maybe.” Brandon laughed. “He’s only got one leg though, so it wouldn’t go over well.”

“What happened to the other one?”