Day 33
“Pam? Where’d you run off to, woman? I’m getting hungry,” Buck yelled, stomping through the house.
He found her on the porch, drinking a cup of coffee and chatting with a few of the men, everyone smiling and laughing like they were at a Sunday picnic.
“Dammit, woman, where’s my supper?”
Pamela frowned and turned her head to Buck. “Make your own damn supper. I’m not your wife. I won’t be, either. I already ate while you slept the day away in my husband’s bed in my husband’s house.” She glanced at the men nearby. “We’ll talk later. Time to get to work, I guess. Now that our Supreme Leader has finished another nap.”
Buck saw the men were grinning, trying to stifle laughter. They think I’m a damn joke thanks to her, Buck thought.
He waited until the men finally wandered off and Pamela went inside the house. Buck closed and locked the door as he entered, unbuckling his belt. Pamela was already in the kitchen, standing at the sink, pouring out her coffee.
Buck slashed her back with the belt, grinning when she fell forward and banged into the sink.
“You will obey me, woman,” Buck yelled. He raised the belt again. “The next time you get fresh in front of my men I will cut your tongue out. Do you understand me?”
Pamela turned, eyes defiant.
Buck thought she was going to attack him. He swung again, quickly, the belt hitting her on the forearm as she put up her arms to block the blow.
She didn’t call out, which infuriated Buck. He wanted the bitch to beg for mercy, to promise she wouldn’t back-talk him ever again.
Instead, she used the kitchen sink to stand, her hands in front of her. She reached back and took the coffee mug into her hand.
Buck took a step back. He tried to smile and failed. “What? You think you’re gonna fight me? It would be the last thing you do, woman.”
“If you think for a second I’m intimidated by you, you’re sorely mistaken.” Pamela shifted to her left, still watching Buck, and opened a drawer.
He took a step forward, the belt rising into the air, but he wasn’t quick enough.
Pamela had a steak knife in hand.
Now Buck smiled. He felt the sweat on his face. She wasn’t worth getting stabbed over. “I can see why Dusty stayed with you this long. You are insane, woman.”
“Stop calling me woman. My name is Pamela Sawyer, but it has nothing to do with you. It never will, either. Get out of my house. I’ve had enough of your shit, Buck. I let you stay because I thought going against you would be a bad move. Guess what? I’m in the majority thinking you’re in over your damn head.”
“Nice try. These men and women are loyal to me. They know I can keep us safe. We’ll prosper. Dusty didn’t have vision like I do. That’s what got him killed,” Buck said.
“Get out of my house.”
Buck shook his head. “This is now my house, woman.”
She looked ready to charge, which is what he wanted her to do. He’d sidestep and slash her across the face with the belt. Drive her to the ground. Punch her in the face and take the fight out of her. Drag her by the hair to their bed and consummate their place together.
“No more sleeping in the guest room with the door locked,” Buck said, more to himself than to her. “We’re going to do this the right way.”
“It’s never going to happen,” Pamela said. “I’m not going to ask you again to leave.”
Buck shrugged. “You can ask a hundred times if you want. It doesn’t matter. This is my headquarters. My base of operations. Everyone will come here for orders. To figure out what we haven’t taken into the fold yet.”
Pamela shook her head. “You’ve been sleeping the last couple of days. Doing nothing but shouting orders whenever someone comes near. No one respects you.”
“Everyone respects me.” Buck took another tentative step closer to her. He was done talking. It was time to show her who was boss, and make sure everyone else knew he was in charge and she was now his property. He’d need to parade her around once he’d broken her so no one else got mouthy with him and his control.
Instead of cringing or shying away, Pamela stood tall. Her legs were set, hands on hips, and her mouth shut in defiance.
Buck had the belt up and was about to swing, knocking the bitch across the face with it to put her in her place, when her gaze past him gave him pause.
He turned to see his younger brother, Jeb, standing in the doorway with his .22 in hand.
“Get out of my house, Jeb,” Buck said. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“This isn’t your house, brother. It’s Miss Pamela’s home. You need to leave.”
Buck smiled. “I know it’s been a few minutes since we grew up together, and I know I've been away for a bit, but I’m not sure you remember the beatings I used to give you for fun, little brother.”
Jeb frowned. “Oh, I remember. Trust me on that. I swore I’d kick your ass when you got out of jail, too, but mama said she’d be so upset.” He still had the pistol in hand. “I’ll ask you again, big brother, to respect Miss Pamela and Dusty. They deserve it.”
“And if I refuse?” Buck swung the belt loosely in front of him now. “You’re not too old or too big to get the belt yourself, Jeb.”
Jeb grinned. “You can try. I’m not like the men you turned tricks for in prison.”
Buck was furious. He raised the belt again, this time to go after Jeb. He might get a shot off but that .22 wasn’t going to stop Buck. Not as mad as he was right now.
Pamela grabbed the belt, yanked it, and spun Buck around.
Before Buck could pull back and hit her, the knife was against his throat.
“Walk out the door in one piece or with a slit artery,” Pamela whispered in Buck’s ear. “Either way doesn’t matter to me. I want you gone.”
Buck licked his lips. He could feel the knife against his skin, and knew she’d drawn a bit of blood. Her hand was trembling but not with fear. It was definite rage.
Jeb waved for Buck to go, using the weapon to accent his point.
“Fine. Jeez. Both of you are ridiculous,” Buck said. “I have my own house anyway. I’ll run it from there. No big deal. This house stinks, anyway. I never liked it.”
Pamela pushed him away but held the knife aimed at his face.
Buck smiled and touched his left cheek. “Darlin’, please don’t slice up this pretty face. It’s one of the only joys in my life.” He turned to his brother and sighed. “Mama would be so disappointed in you, Jeb, threatening your own blood.”
“We’re all blood here, especially now,” Jeb said.
Buck waved his hands and started to walk out, careful not to do anything sudden or stupid. He didn’t want a knife in the back and a bullet in the front from these two.
At the front door he stopped and turned back, shaking his head. “I get it. You two hooked up when I wasn't looking. Why else would you be here, Jeb? I’m too busy trying to keep us all alive, while you’re too busy playing grab-ass in the bushes with damaged goods.”
“Never step foot on my property,” Pamela said. She had a rifle in hand now, too.
“Then you’re on your own, woman. You can’t come on my property when we give out food and supplies,” Buck said.
Jeb laughed. “You don’t have property. I inherited the house and farm. Not you. Find a tree to sleep under, big brother.”
Buck pursed his lips. They weren’t going to make this easy, which was fine with him.
I need to suffer a bit for my past, Buck thought. This is how Jesus and John Wayne felt, I betcha. Right before they did great things.
Buck went outside, where a dozen men were milling about, acting like they hadn’t heard anything. He put up his hands and grinned. “We need to find a bigger, more central location for our base of operations. Any ideas, my friends?”