He looked her way, his forehead lining at what he saw on her face. “Bruises build character.” His focus shifted, landing on something behind her. His frown deepened. “I’m thinking the peach rubbing all over your boyfriend is rotten at her core, though.”
“What?” Ronnie spun around.
A blonde in a tight pink dress and white cowboy boots had her arms looped around Grady’s neck from behind, whispering in his ear. Or maybe she was sucking on his ear. It was hard to tell from her vantage point.
The woman turned to smile at Butch.
Elizabeth!
Ronnie gasped. She shoved her tray of dirty plates and glasses at Mississippi.
“Ronnie, don’t,” he called after her as she stalked toward the bar.
Don’t what? Drag the heart-breaking strumpet out back by the hair, dip her headfirst into the grease bin, and then stake her to the ground next to a fire ant hill until dawn?
Mississippi was right. That might land Ronnie in deeper trouble than what she was bobbing up and down in already. She’d settle with serving Grady’s ex a super-sized wedgie with a side of Ronnie’s boot up her ass.
By the time Ronnie reached the bar, Grady had managed to extricate himself from his ex-wife’s version of the sleeper-hold. The frown he’d shot Ronnie earlier was downright friendly compared to the glower he was giving Elizabeth.
“… to go home,” she heard him say when she drew within earshot.
Elizabeth crossed her arms, pushing her hooters higher so that they almost winked at everyone over her dress’s skimpy neckline. “I waited for you there like you told me to, but you didn’t show.”
“Say what now?” Ronnie said, dragging her eyes from Elizabeth’s ample bazookas. Grady had told his ex to meet him at his house? When had this previous conversation gone down? More important, how long had he been talking to the hussy and why hadn’t he mentioned it to Ronnie?
Grady growled. “When I said to go home, I meant your mom’s place, not my house.”
“But your home is my home.”
“Not any more, remember?”
Elizabeth noticed Ronnie standing on the sidelines. Her face twisted into a snarl that would have made a lion tamer drop his chair and run. She aimed her snarl at Grady. “It’s still our home, even though you brought this trailer park tramp into our bed.”
The trailer park was fitting since Ronnie was currently living at an RV park, but she chafed at the tramp bit. “That’s downright funny coming from a gutter whore like you. You were the one who got knocked up with another man’s child while you were married to Grady.”
“Oh, you stupid … Shut up!” Elizabeth grabbed the full mug in front of Grady. With the flick of her wrist, she plastered Ronnie’s neck and work shirt with beer.
The barflies around them quieted.
Ronnie gaped down at her soaked shirt, shivering as the cold beer trickled down her stomach and soaked the waistline of her jeans. Something cracked in her ears. It might have been the camel’s spine under the weight of that final piece of straw.
When she looked up at Grady’s ex, she saw red—literally. There was a big red splotch on Elizabeth’s left breast. As Ronnie stared at it, the thick red goop slid south and dripped onto the top of the bitch’s white cowboy boot.
“What did you do?!” Elizabeth squawked, her mouth wide in horror as she stared down at her red boob.
“Oops,” said a voice from the other side of the bar.
Ronnie and Elizabeth turned at the same time. Katie smiled, the red ketchup bottle in her hand still aimed at Grady’s ex. “I guess I got a little excited and squeezed prematurely in the heat of the moment.”
Elizabeth gurgled with rage. She scooped up a handful of peanuts from a bowl on the bar and threw them at Katie, who ducked.
When Katie popped back up, her eyes were wide with her crazed Mr. Hyde look. “Are you nuts?” she yelled.
“You stained my dress!”
“Darn, you’re right. Let me help you with that.”
Katie drew the soda water gun from its holster behind the bar and aimed it at Elizabeth, spraying her in the chin and neck. “Sorry about that, my aim was off.” She lowered the nozzle and blasted the front of Elizabeth’s dress while Grady’s ex screeched. “There we go,” Katie said. “I think we got the worst of it off.”
Wolf whistles rang out down the length of the bar, followed by hoots and claps.
Elizabeth raised her hands, claws extended, and tried to climb over the bar. She howled like a banshee, slashing out at Katie with her fingernails. Katie stepped back with the spray gun still in hand, cackling like a mad witch while she squirted Elizabeth in the face.
Then Grady was there, grabbing Elizabeth by the waist. He pulled her back down to the floor while getting sprayed in the face several times in the process. At the same time, Butch was taking casualties to the other side of the bar while trying to grab the soda nozzle away from Katie, who refused to let up on the spray.
Ronnie would have laughed at the clown act if it weren’t her pregnant sister and sheriff boyfriend co-starring in the show. She covered her mouth. What had she done now? She’d jinxed them all.
A spray of water splashed her already soaked chest. “That’s it! I’m done,” she shouted above the racket. She untied her waitress apron and tossed it at Coop, who was watching the wrestling match with his drink paused halfway to his mouth.
Pushing through the batwing doors, Ronnie unbuttoned her soaked shirt as she walked. She dumped the shirt on the floor, slipped Claire’s spare flannel jacket over her wet bra, grabbed the Jeep keys along with her purse, and exited stage left out the back door.
The Jeep rumbled to life without a problem, thankfully. She cranked up the stereo and shifted into gear. As she gunned it past the front door, she caught sight of Natalie running outside.
Ronnie didn’t take the
