A/N:
This chapter will show you Emmett's womanizing ways, as well as his carefree nature around gambling and drinking.
Also, a few southern sayings and words will pop up here, and while I know most of my readers are from the States, if you are, like me, not from America, there's a dictionary at the bottom to explain what they mean ;-)
Title: Origins: Destiny in the Mountains
Author: MarieCarro
Beta: Alice's White Rabbit
Pre-reader: OnlyInValhalla
Genre: Family/Supernatural
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Emmett Brian McCarty never had much in life, but growing up poor didn't stop him from enjoying life and all its pleasures.
However, always seeking thrills most often means it will end badly, and one day, while hunting for game in the mountains, Emmett meets his destiny. Canon. ExR
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter Word Count: 2, 456
CHAPTER 1
TUESDAY, JUNE 26th – WEDNESDAY, JUNE 27th 1934
"Dammit!"
"Sorry, Greg," I said triumphantly. "Spades trump anythin'." I laughed and collected the money pot for the round.
Greg shot up from his seat and glowered at me. I saw his hand clench into a fist, and I leaned forward on the table to get closer to him.
"Go ahead," I taunted, hoping he would take the bait. "Hit me."
Few men had the nerve to fight me or my brothers. Working at the mill while growing up, lugging heavy sacks of grain around, had made us strong early, and after the mill closed after the stock crash five years ago, the three of us had eventually found jobs with the railroads.
The continued heavy labor had aided our growth further, and most men feared us.
Greg looked like a common fool, though, and I was looking forward to his next move.
I didn't want to scare him off too early, so I refrained from displaying the muscles in my arms the way I normally would have, but they didn't go unnoticed by him despite my efforts.
It was easy to see when he lost his nerve, but he tried to keep face by cracking his neck and scoffing.
"Forget it. It's not worth it." He turned his back to me to leave, but I couldn't keep myself from one last try.
"You sure about that? Seems like a whole lot of money I just won off you!" I said loudly to make the whole bar aware of the situation, and every man stopped what he was doing in anticipation of the fight they hoped would happen.
However, before anything could happen, one of the waitresses came up to me and stroked my shoulder.
"Emmett, please don't. This bar can't afford new furniture again."
I looked at her. "Oh, Betty, I wasn't goin' to break any furniture," I reassured her, but at the same time, I snaked my hand around her waist and pinched her bottom. She squeaked in surprise, and I grinned. "At least, not while fightin'," I continued suggestively, and it made her giggle.
"You're so bad, Emmett," she sighed, but it was obvious she enjoyed my advances. "What am I supposed to do with you?"
"Anythin' you want, sugar."
She hit my shoulder playfully before she collected the empty glasses on my table and went back to the bar.
The money I'd won disappeared into my pockets, and I stood up to go back to the table where my friends sat.
"I wished so hard Greg would've hit you," Jack said. "It would've wiped that self-righteous smile off your face. I'm tired of you always winnin'."
"That's not what self-righteous means," Sam interjected. "I think the word you're looking for is smug."
Jack rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Sam. I didn't come here to get a lesson in English."
"I'm just saying—"
I hurriedly interrupted him. "Just let it go, Sammy. I got what Jack meant."
He shrugged and took a sip of his drink. "You know, Clara won't be happy when she hears you're frolicking with Betty," he said, and it caused me to scoff.
"Me and Clara aren't exclusive. I made that clear to her from the start. If she's gotten it into her head we're halfway down the aisle, that's not on me," I defended myself.
"She's been puttin' up with your ugly mug for two years now, so you can't really blame her for believin' things," Jack jumped in. "Why are you stringin' the girl along anyway? Unless you intend to marry her?"
I threw out my hands. "Look at me. I'm at a bar gettin' bagged on a Tuesday after a long day at the railroads. I'm still livin' with my folks and my brothers in a house we don't own. I'm as poor as a church mouse and have absolutely nothin' to offer a girl." I downed the last of my drink. "Besides, being a cajoler is a hell of a lot more fun than settlin' down, don't y'all agree?"
"Tell that to Clara," Sam mumbled.
I didn't reply. Instead, I waved Betty over and asked her to bring us another round.
"Celebratin' now, are you?" she asked.
"Always."
She left to get us our drinks, and when she put them on the table, she leaned over to whisper in my ear. "My shift ends at midnight if you want to come over to my place." She played with the hair at the nape of my neck, and I smiled at her appreciatively.
"You won't hear me say no to an offer like that."
Betty left again, and Jack groaned next to me. "How do you do it? Girls won't even look at me, and I'm not a hillbilly like you. I still live in town."
I laughed, not taking offense from his insult. "It's because you're too big for your britches, Jack. You need to liven up a bit."
"Only you can live the way you do without dyin'," he said. "Greg would have beat up any other person who'd won his money from him, but not you."
I shrugged, unbothered. "I reckon I have luck on my side then. And there can only be one of me in this town."
"Thank God for that," he said, and it earned him a playful hit on the head, and although I knew I used a bit more force than necessary, I felt he deserved it.
After all, he called me and my family hillbillies.
Only a couple of hours later, Sam and Jack decided it was time for them to go home.
"Don't wear yourself out with Betty tonight," Sam urged me. "You and I are hunting tomorrow no matter how rotten you feel in the morning."
Jack shook his head. "Y'all are crazy for huntin' in the mountains these days. The park rangers patrol all over."
I just grinned at him and answered Sam. "I never miss a hunt," I reminded him. "And, Jack, you can tell your father my dad has his order ready. He can come by our place anytime."
"Dad'll be glad to hear that. He says your dad's stuff is the only bearable in the county."
"It's a strong batch, though," I warned. "So don't go chuggin' it first thing."
Jack laughed. "I'll make sure to let him know that. See ya at work!"
"See ya."
I ordered one last drink, even though I knew I shouldn't have. The more money I spent, the less it meant I could give to my family. It made me feel guilty every time, but I also loved living the way I did. I had promised myself, though, that if things ever got so bad we literally needed every penny to survive, I would stop drinking and gambling.
But until then, I was going to enjoy it.
Starting with going home with Betty.
{=DITM=}
Betty stirred in bed as I pulled on my jeans, and then she opened one eye tiredly.
"Mhm, what are you doin' up so early?" she asked softly and stretched her supple body tantalizingly.
I wished I could shed my clothes once more and join her, but I had promised Sam we'd hunt, and my family expected me to check the traps before heading to work. So I regretfully leaned over and kissed her while also giving her ample bottom one last squeeze.
"Sorry, sugar. I'd rather spend a few more hours with you, but I promised Sam."
She turned to look out the window. "It's still night out," she complained.
"A hunter needs to start early," I explained and stood up again to put on my shirt. "Before the beasts go into hidin' again."
She huffed. "Your loss, darlin'. I guess I'll see you at the bar. Make sure the door is closed when you leave."
I chuckled and laced up my boots before pulling my suspenders into place. The lining of my jeans was frayed and distressed, but I couldn't afford new clothes, so suspenders were a must or I'd walk around and show everyone my hide.
Not that it'd matter to me, but people in town generally frowned at that sort of behavior. Especially from hillbillies. And it didn't make it better that Dad was Irish either.
I remembered the first time I took real notice of how people in town shunned him just because of where he was from. It had been before the stock crash and during the time when we had still been able to afford some education for me and Bea.
The teacher had called my name in class and grimaced. "McCarty? That name Irish?"
"Yes, sir," I'd replied in my Tennessee twang. "My dad's from Ireland."
Another grimace had marred the man's face, and he'd scoffed before continuing down the list of names.
I hadn't understood it back then, but I'd asked Dad about it. He'd told me to not worry about it, and I didn't until after the stock crash and he lost his job at the timber factory. Each time he came home after a long day of hunting a new job, he'd told us they simply didn't have any open positions, but the truth was that the business owners in town simply didn't want to hire an Irish hillbilly.
The same applied to me and my brothers. It was somewhat easier for us since we were born in America, and we didn't sound Irish, but our name haunted us wherever we went.
Jack and Sam were the only friends I had who had never made a big deal of my heritage, and I was endlessly grateful for it. Before them, my family had strictly stuck with each other, and I knew Bea was the one suffering the most for it.
She was growing up, and the only female company she had was our mother. While Mama did her best, my biggest nightmare was that because Bea was such an outsider and most likely wouldn't catch a husband on her own, she would resort to whoring in order to garner men's attention when the time came.
I wasn't above prostitution. I had bought my fair share of gillies since I was sixteen. I just didn't want my little sister living that life.
I met Sam at the foot of the mountains, and he was appraising me suspiciously.
"You ain't feeling the bottle-ache, are you?" he asked with narrowed eyes.
I grinned at him. "Never do, Sammy. Besides, best cure is a warm hash-slinger's legs wrapped around your waist."
He rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't know. Unlike you, I enjoy being faithful."
"Nobody ain't two-timin' here," I protested. "I told you, Clara and I aren't a couple."
He sighed. "I told you before, and I'll tell you again. You need to let Clara know that. No matter if you told her or not, she believes it. She's been talking to Martha, and she doesn't understand why you haven't popped the question yet."
I hoisted one of the rifles over my shoulder. "Fine. I will. Now can we get to huntin'?"
Sam shouldered his own rifle, and we started wandering uphill.
A few hours later, I was handing the bounty of the day to Mama: one turkey and three hares.
"Sam didn't find any big game either," I apologized for the measly gifts. "I'll go fishin' after work, and I should be able to catch a few bass and some crappies as well. Maybe even a walleye."
"Ye've done great, Emmett," Mama praised, her Scottish accent as strong as ever. "Gavin came home with a deer, and Ian is still out. Get inside and have some breakfast before ye go. I dinna want ye to go hungry at work."
"Thanks, Mama."
I did as I was told and found Bea adding honey to a dough. She hadn't heard me enter, and I took advantage of that by circling my arms around her waist and spinning her around while she shrieked and laughed.
"Emmett, you damn near scared me to death," she exclaimed, but she didn't push me away when I kissed her cheek as an apology.
"You'll live," I assured her teasingly. "Smells wonderful in here. What're you making?"
"Hot cross buns with honey."
I moaned. "Please, save some for me."
"I can't," she said. "I'm only makin' them to sell."
"Oh, but, Bea, please," I begged. "Your hot buns are the best."
Bea looked around as well as out the window to see where Mama was before she handed me a warm, wrapped package. "I made those for you, Ian, and Gavin earlier. Take them with you to work, but don't let Mama know. She'll have a hissy fit if she finds out."
I gave her another kiss and hurriedly placed the packet in my bag. "You know how much I love you, don't you?"
She smiled. "You only say that 'cause I'm feedin' you."
I shook my head in a moment of seriousness. "That's only one of the reasons."
"Well, I reckon I love you, too, then," she replied, and I laughed.
"What a relief!"
I ate the breakfast that had been put out, and then I went to one of the two bedrooms in the house—the one I shared with my brothers—to change my shirt since I'd been wearing the same one now for a week.
Later at work, I showed Gavin and Ian the buns, and both of them started salivating before devouring theirs like a pair of starving wolves.
"One day, Bea will make a man very happy," Ian said with his mouth full of bread.
"If she finds one in these parts of the country, that is," Gavin reminded him. After all, I wasn't the only one who was worried about our sister's future.
Ian shifted uncomfortably at the reminder that our family wasn't fully accepted. "Anyone can see that Bea's the best kind of gal. Any Joe would be lucky to land her as his wife," he said sullenly.
"And we know that," Gavin said. "The pickle is to convince others of it, too."
"Bea's only thirteen," I piped in, hoping to end the conversation. "She's got plenty of time for men later. Right now, the three of us should be glad it's us she's feedin'."
My brother's exchanged a look, and then smiled.
"Yeah, I reckon you're right about that," Ian said, much happier than the second before, and the three of us finished our lunch before going back to work.
A/N:
What do you guys think of this first little insight into Emmett's head? He might be a womanizer, but he'll always care for his family. Just look at how he is with his sister and how much her worries about her.
That trait will definitely follow along into his vampire life ;-)
Southern Phrases Dictionary:
Sugar – Term of endearment often used in the south
Frolicking – Playing Around
Getting bagged – Getting drunk
As poor as a church mouse – Very, very poor
Cajoler – Player
Too big for your britches – Too Serious
Gillies – Prostitutes
Bottle-ache – Hungover
Hash-slinger – Waitress
Two-timing – Cheating
Hissy fit – Get very upset
Any Joe – Any guy
As always,
Stay Awesome!