There's No Place Like Rhodes (Book 2)

Sunday Mornings

Bells. The pealing of those wretched, godawful bells stabbed at Karen's head. That meant it was Sunday morning. It was the only day of the week they rang those damn things and this caravan was too close to the church to ignore it.

She groaned and turned over, intending to bury her face in a pillow, but instead she rolled into another warm body. She opened her eyes briefly before shutting them tight again. Too fucking bright. Her head couldn't handle all this disturbance so early in the morning.

She didn't know who was in the bed with her. Even if she had been able to see the heap of a man next to her, she doubted she'd recognize him. Last night she'd drank until oblivion had taken her. She didn't remember most of her days anymore either. Not last night and not much of the last six months. Not since...

She covered her face, but the memories were already bleeding in, taking over the blissful, empty dark.

A lilting, kind voice said, I'm real worried for you, Karen...

Mary-Beth.

"Stop it," Karen said aloud.

If you don't take it easy on that bottle, you're gonna kill yourself.

Tilly.

"It's what I deserve." she muttered.

Don't do this to yourself. You got a choice.

"Shut up." Even Arthur had tried sticking his nose in her business. "You don't know shit about it."

The bastard sleeping next to her started snoring. She pushed on his shoulder. "Hey, wake up, you."

When he didn't stir, she shook him harder. "Get up!"

The man lifted his head.

Goddamnit all. She did know this bastard. It was that idiot Lou that Nettie Mae was sweet on. Well, Karen would have hell to pay for this later.

"What's going on?" He stared at her blearily.

She pushed on him again. "Get the hell outta here. Now."

"But—"

She shoved him and he slipped off her bed and thumped to the floor. A few bottles from last night scattered across the floor at his fall.

He rose, clutching his head and staring at her in confusion. "What the hell did I do, Karen?"

"The same thing every damn man ever does. Nothing." She followed him off the bed, her head pounding as she grasped his arm and started to drag him to the door.

"Fucking shit, Karen. Hold on a damn minute so I can at least put on my trousers."

"It ain't like this town's never seen your bare drunken ass before." But she allowed him a second to cover himself as she snatched up his shirt and shoes and pushed them into his chest.

Lou clutched them, trying to protest more, but she was done with him. She needed him to get out and now. She swung open the door and shoved him through.

She slammed the door shut when he started to turn around. She rested her back against the door, praying he wouldn't try to come back in so she didn't have to deal with him. Once she thought he wasn't about to make an entrance, she stupidly started crying. Crying never got her shit, but there she stood doing it anyway, unable to hold it in anymore.

She slid down the door, covering her face. She missed them. Her family. If she could talk to Tilly or Mary-Beth again—no. If they knew what she'd done...

Karen pushed down the memories as deep as they would go. Through her watery vision, she spotted a half empty bottle across the room. Nothing made those memories retreat better than whiskey. She crawled across the floor, snatched up the bottle and drank until it didn't hurt anymore.