Southern by the Grace of God

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Westerns  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 8 (v.1)

Submitted: December 12, 2009

Reads: 204

Comments: 2

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Submitted: December 12, 2009



"What exactly is it that you are wanting me to do?" the man asked wearily as he rubbed his rough hands on the grease rag, and turned slightly to his left.

Deidra looked up from where she had been examining her well manicured nails. "How many times do I need to repeat myself? It's quite simple, a caveman could understand it."

The man grumbled unintelligably and turned completely around. His eyes skimmed over Deidra and he gave a small grunt of approval. Her well endowed chestal region was barely covered by the skin tight, leather, crop top. Naturally, him being a man, this is where his gaze hovered. Hands suddenly appeared on the slender hips. This only succeeded in drawing his gaze to the barely there jean skirt.

With a hiss of disapproval Deidra managed to draw the mans gaze back to her face. Her brows were furrowed in what appeared to be disgust, but her mouth was playing on a satisfied smile.

"You're her dad right?" she questioned as she returned to examining her cuticles.

Shaking his head as if to rid it of impure thoughts, the man sighed and ducked his head back beneath the hood of the old, rusted truck. "Yeah, that's right," he mumbled.

Soon Deidra's head appeared beneath the hood, her blue eyes scanning the man's lined but extremely handsome face. "Well then 'daddy'," she emphasized the word daddy, making her voice go lower and running her tongue along her lips, "this shouldn't be a very hard mission for you."

He raised questioning eyes to her. She could suddenly sense pain in his gaze and when he spoke it was the voice of a tortured man. "How could you ask a father to hurt his baby girl that way?"

Seeing and hearing the pain issuing from this man almost made her back off, give up her task. Then the images flooded her mind as if her brain were on shuffle.

Her dad slapping around her mom, the screams she heard, the hurt of all the abuse, the blonde girl 'Casen's sister' laying in a pool of blood as the men surrounded her, the look on Casen and Kaya's face as they came upon the sight, Emmerson's funeral, the fight..and so on and so on.

She reeled backwards, just narrowly missing the hood of the truck. One hand clutched at her stomach, the other reached into the stylish bag slung over her shoulder. Her eyes showed fear and confusion. Sweat beaded on her forehead.

The man, Kaya's estranged father, stumbled back in confusion at the sight and stared on not knowing what to do.

Deidra fell to her knee's, yanking the bag from her shoulder. She turned it upside down and desperately dug through the contents littering the ground.

Finally, it seemed that she had found what she was searching for. She picked up a small flask, hurriedly opened it and turned it bottoms up, emptying it of all liquid.

Settling back on her heels she took deep breaths, waiting for the calm to take over. Soon enough, just as it did everytime, the calm broke over her body and the shaking subsided. She didn't know what they kept in the flasks but it never failed to calm her.

Pushing back up into a standing position Deidra flung her hair back over her shoulder and turned hate filled eyes upon the man.

Did she have a plausible reason to hate this man? None that she knew of. Did she have a reason to ask such a horrid thing of this father? Only that she was told by the other's to do so.

"W-what the hell was that?" the man choked out, "are you ok?"

Deidra held her hand up, silencing the man quickly. "Look dumbass, you will do as I say or you'll die," she advised maliciously.

"Now look here you little slut, I am a grown man and I won't be told what to do or when to do it," the man growled taking a menacing step forward. His stance showed confidence and authority, but his mind betrayed his fear of the word "killed".

She huffed indignantly and crossed over to the decaying, wooden door at the back of the building. Taking a stilletoed foot and slamming it into the frame she sent the door down. It slammed into the unforgiving ground, stirring up a cloud of dust.

Taking one small finger she motioned for him to come closer. He did so hesitantly. She nodded her head, indicating that he should look out. Once again he did as was wanted.

He took in the sight. Eyes growing slightly wider. A man, almost completely in black was standing there beside a tree. Nonchalantly, as he seen the people appear at the door, he lifted a hand brandishing a pistol.

A smile full of amusement adorned Deidra's face as she watched. The "guard" lifted the gun, pointing it so that it was targeting the man's chest.

"Do as we say......or be killed," Deidra drawled out cruely.

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