Vivamus, Moriendum est (Rorschach x oc)

29. Hotel Arizona Part 2

Mary's P.O.V.

A mud caked truck awaited us in the hospital parking lot. James demanded the keys from the tall blonde. In what seemed to be malicious compliance she lobbed them at him. He cursed something awful as he failed to catch them and was forced to go running after them.

"I can't believe were stuck with another of these bloody things." He said slamming on the dash as the truck rumbled to life.

"Careful." Roger protested meekly. 

James gave a few more hard raps, "please you'd be better off if the thing just died off here and now."

"It's me dad's truck." Roger complained.

"And where's good ol' pops now, eh?" James smiled as the truck finally held its connection and began to idle, "there we go."

He sped out of the parking lot going much too fast, peeling into the road and cutting off an oncoming driver. A horn blared behind us, and James just yelled a curse out the window.

Once more I found myself in Roger's lap. Purely out of fear of being pressed against the windshield I clung to him. The blonde had been crammed between Roger and James though she made no complaint. Clutching a compact mirror, she calmly adjusted her make up as if we were not speeding recklessly down an unpaved road, dust swirling up around us.  I felt Roger's arms tighten around me. 

A little while later James made a sharp turn down a narrow drive barely visible from the road. Faint floral scents began to float through the air. The road was shaded as it was lined with rows upon rows of bushy trees with purple buds. 

James apparently became impatient as the path winded on and on.

"This is the right drive, innit?" He grumbled.

"This is the one. You see the lemon trees don't you?" Roger replied.

"Yes, all I see is bloody trees!" 

A few minutes later the trees began to thin and in a clearly of farmland that seemed to sprawl for miles appeared a picturesque little white ranch house with a gray roof. Immediately surrounding the house was grass and small little shrubs with a few massive shady trees here and there. Various fields sprawled across the grounds on either side of the house. A few other smaller structures littered the fields. Most likely barns. One area was fenced in and little brown specs could be seen grazing out in the fields.

The path we had followed went right up to the front porch of the house. In a few places in the path branched out leading to various parts of the ranch.

Two figures stood at the base of the porch steps. A man and a girl. The man was older than all of us it seemed. Maybe middle aged? Long straight black hair fell down his back and he was dressed in jeans, flannel, and a brown coat with fringe on the arms. A large cowboy hat adorned his head. The girl looked about the same age as the rest of us. She was dressed similarly to the man. Jeans and flannel though no hat. Long reddish hair was braided down her back. She stood with her arms crossed and as the truck approached, she dropped her arms and marched towards us.

Roger barely had time to get out of the truck before she reached him. 

"Ello, Daph-"

She struck him across the face.

"You told me it would be me!" She snapped; her voice laced with a thick southern accent.

"What do you mean?" Roger asked.

The girl pointed at me, "what's she here for?"

"New singer." James chimed in.

The girl kept a fiery gaze locked on Roger. I noticed she had the same large deep blue eyes as him. 

"See! And you told me it could be me and now here's this city tramp!" 

"Daphne, I- well you're busy with the ranch and well-"

"You don' have the right sound were looking for." James interrupted bluntly.

"You told me no girls were allowed in your little group." The girl, Daphne raged.

James shrugged; Roger shifted uncomfortably.

"Er-"

"And?"

"And what?"

"Why is she here?" Daphne demanded pointing at me once more.

James shrugged again, "we got desperate and well she don' sound as much a girl. And she don' have the bloody accent that you got on ya."

"Unbelievable!" She shrieked.

"Don' question us. It's our band therefore none of your damn bloody business." James tossed her the keys to the truck, "and for god's sake get a new damned truck! This one barely starts!"

With that he strutted on into the house. 

"I ain't about to get heat stroke out here." The tall blonde announced following him inside.

"Some nerve, Roger. Some nerve you've got." Daphne muttered before storming off in another direction.

The man that had been standing with her watched this all quietly, surveying us. Except when Roger moved to carry me into the ranch house. The man stopped him.

"You said you wouldn't bring him back here, Roger." He called in a smooth deep voice. His tone was even but it sounded like a warning.

"Oh, hello Tala." Roger replied, a nervous edge creeping into his voice.

Tala, the man had eyes as dark as coal. They narrowed surveying Roger darkly. 

"Roger-"

"Yes, yes. I know."

"You said you'd be rid of him."

"I'm aware of that as well."

"If he causes trouble this time."

"Right, of course."

"By the look of that poor girl he already has caused trouble."

"Oh, her? She's fine."

"Is her face normally swollen like that?"

"Er, no. Her uh-nose is broken."

"How'd that happen?"

"Well,"

"From what Dior says you really screwed up."

"I mean well, she seemed to be fed up with home."

"Do you know that for sure?"

"Er, well no. But she complained a lot so-"

"The two of you fools intoxicated her."

"Yes,"

"You better help her heal and then from there you will not be trapping her here if she doesn't want any part of your shenanigans, you hear me?"

"Of, course. I intend to help her."

"That means doing what's best for her. Not you. I hope you know that." Tala said sternly.

"Right."

Shaking his head, Tala walked off in the direction Daphne had stormed off in.

Roger paused on the porch but eventually turned and carried me away into the ranch.