Disclaim: I don't own; I borrow with the odd exception.
Author's Note: Flames are welcome. Thanks to Cheap Indifference and alsonny, as always.

Feb. 1964

Bobby Huff was a red-haired fuck who was neither smart nor threatening. I eyed him coolly from where I was leaning up against one of the beams in the stable, waiting for Janice to get her horse tacked up. Fritter didn't much like people poking and prodding at him and put up a real fight whenever Jan tried to get the bit inside his mouth. But he was her horse, since nobody else would or could get within twenty feet of him. She didn't have too many problems with him; he was probably the only living thing she showed any sort of decency toward.

"Come back to get the rest of your fuckin' teeth knocked out, Huff?" I asked, looking up into the rafters.

He was sweating. "Tim sent me for you."

I sighed and looked over at one of the empty stalls. "The fuck does he want?"

"Didn't say," he said, cramming his hands into his pockets. "Reckon he wants to see you. That's what I gather, anyways."

Tim was a meticulous sonuvabitch. I couldn't understand why he'd send someone like Bobby to come get me. Idiots like him got killed, and Tim knew that better than anybody else.

"Did you rat me out, Bobby?" I narrowed my eyes and shifted against the beam as I puffed out my jacket. "Did you tell Timmy I beat your ugly fuckin' face in?"

He flapped his mouth a few times and wiped the sweat off his forehead when he couldn't think of anything to say. I didn't understand how guys like him fit into something like the Shepard gang. They were too fucking stupid to be very useful, and I didn't think someone like Tim needed a water boy. Back in New York, Bobby wouldn't have made it past the ripe old age of eight. The boys I ran with would've eaten him alive—boys like Lindsay and Archie, who would sooner skin Bobby Huff than let him breathe the same air as them.

Thinking about it made me homesick. I scratched my jaw and gave him a bored look. There was nothing that made my stomach turn quite like some candy-ass little bitch trying to prove he was tough shit. But something about this didn't add up. Tim was smarter than this; he'd come to me himself, if he was really that sore over me shit-kicking one of his guys.

"When I see Tim, it'll be on my own terms," I said, pushing myself away from the beam. "And you can tell him that."

He swallowed and stepped back, his eyes shifting the whole time, like he was trying to find the quickest way out, because he knew he'd been caught. "Yeah, alright."

"Alright?" I snorted and rolled my eyes. "For someone with such a big fuckin' mouth, you sure ain't got much to say."

He looked like he wanted to spit on me, or wring my neck, but he turned around hurriedly and started back the way he came. I knew that slimy little bastard had something up his sleeve, and as much as I would've loved to have cut it out of him, I wasn't sure I wanted him dead yet.

"You must be in some kind of trouble."

I wrinkled my nose and nodded as Janice handed me Fritter's rope. "Must be."

She sighed loudly as she rooted through her duffel bag. "I'm going to tell you the same thing I tell you every time, Dallas." She scowled and pushed her hair back. "Stay out of it."

"I'd be as lucky," I muttered, scratching Fritter's nose when he pushed up against me. "I reckon all he wants is a good skin fight, ain't that right, Fritter?"

"It's never just a skin fight," she said, zipping up her bag. She looked around as she tied her hair back. "All it takes is someone pullin' a heater or a chain on you, and you're done."

She had a point, but sometimes I wondered if she thought we were still living in the heart of New York's ghetto. Things here weren't nearly as wild as they were there, and I missed it. And even if they were, I wasn't dumb enough to get myself caught up in something I thought I couldn't handle. But a skin fight wasn't anything to sweat about; I could've won blindfolded with both hands tied behind my back.

"I don't even know if that's what he wants, Jan," I told her, leaning against the horse. He started chewing at the collar of my jacket, and I let him. "He could want somethin' completely different."

"Like what, a tea party?" She looked down at my boots and grimaced. "Get real, Dallas. Do you know if I grabbed my boots?"

"I told you to make sure you had all of your shit before we left the house," I told her impatiently. "You're the most disorganized person I know."

She shrugged and eyed my boots as if it wasn't a big deal. "It runs in the family."

That seemed to be her excuse for everything.

The breeze coming in was warm and the sky was blue. I shielded my eyes against the sun and watched Janice yammering away with her friends. She'd won her race, which was expected, and she wanted to swing by the house so we could check on our mom. I hated to admit it, especially to myself, but there was part of me that wasn't sure if I could handle seeing her right then.

It had a lot to do with guilt and feeling like a selfish prick for leaving her on her own last night. I knew it would have been easy to blame Janice and say that it was her fault for not wanting to go home, but I'd had a choice and could've said no. It was my fault just as much as it was hers, or maybe even more, because I wasn't supposed to pull the same kind of bullshit that she did. Our mom had spent the last fifteen years trying to keep my ass safe—it was about time I did the same for her, even if I didn't really know how.

I jammed my hands into my pockets and scuffed at the ground. The heat was making me antsy, but Janice didn't seem to care; she was absorbed in whatever the hell she was talking about, which was probably herself. She took being conceited to a whole different level. Everything always had to be about her, and sometimes I felt like I enabled her. And I knew that if I said anything about it, she'd give me some spiel about how I wasn't any better, because it ran in the family. That excuse was starting to drive me up the fucking wall; I wasn't anything like her, and I didn't want to be.

Wiggling my toes in my shoes, I scowled at the ground. She had yet to give me back my boots, and I wasn't counting on her remembering or getting her shit together any time soon.

Instead of standing around like an idiot, I figured I'd find Buck. Since he saw all sorts of unfortunate bastards almost every night, if anybody knew about Bobby Huff, it would be him. I doubted Tim had a whole lot to do with this. Bobby Huff had an agenda, and I was on it.

There was an office around the back of the stables, and that was most likely where I'd find Buck. He didn't tend to socialize with any of the riders that came in for these rodeos. I remembered his granddaddy being the same way, back when he was alive, and since Buck never had much of a father figure besides Amos Merrill, it seemed right that they were one in the same.

I'd met Amos only a handful of times last summer, before he died. He had one of those stereotypically thick down-south accents that made me feel displaced, and he'd kept looking at me like I was some kind of alien enemy every time I opened my mouth. Besides being a recluse and having a very strong distaste for the North, I didn't know one hell of a lot about him. Buck said it was better that way, and I didn't ask questions. They both liked keeping their personal life personal, which I respected. It was easier keeping people at an arm's length that way.

"Hey, Buck," I said, stepping into the office. It was stuffy and reeked like sweat and horse feed. "You got a minute?"

He wiped the sweat off his forehead and nodded. "Go on an' siddown."

I licked my lips and sat in the plastic chair on the other side of his desk as he tucked a stack of papers into a drawer. "I was hopin' you could tell me somethin' about that Bobby Huff character."

"What about him?" Buck asked, narrowing his eyes. "There ain't much to know..."

"I believe it," I said, kicking my feet up on the desk. "All I know is that he's one of Shepard's boys, and he's dumber than a fucking stick."

"About sums that up." He pushed his hair back and slid his tongue through the gap in his teeth. "I don't see him around much, unless he's with one of Tim's guys."

It was always the fucking quiet ones. I hung my head over the back of the chair and stared at the ceiling. Sometimes I had to wonder if I'd ever catch a break. If I wasn't trying to figure out the shit at home, or keeping up with Janice and her bullshit, then I had some little puke breathing down my neck. But that was life, and if nothing else, it reminded me that I was still alive.

"Do me a favour, huh?" I looked out through the window and fiddled with the zipper on my jacket. "Lemme know if you hear anything."

He gave me an incredulous look. "Like what?"

"You'll know it when you hear it," I told him, looking down at my hands.

I had to cover my ass in case something happened, and there wasn't anybody I would've wanted backing me up besides Buck. He wasn't anywhere near as dumb as a lot of people thought he was. Anyone who could run a roadhouse, manage a bunch of underage kids, and fix races nation-wide had to have some kind of brains behind them. Buck didn't get enough credit for the things he did, and I was just as bad as everyone else for it.

He rubbed his face and knit his eyebrows together. "You ain't in no kinda trouble, are ya?"

"I couldn't tell you." I shrugged and let out a heavy sigh. "Wouldn't surprise me none."

"Well, if you need anythin' else, make sure you lemme know."

Taking my feet off his desk, I knew that when he said anything, he meant it. Buck was good for his word when he had to be, and sometimes I didn't like how much I trusted him. I knew he was a lying sonuvawhore, but I'd never doubted his credibility, which would come back to bite me in the ass one of these days the way it always did.

"Take it easy, man," I said, giving him a grin. "I'll catch up with you later."

He nodded as Janice stuck her head into the office and looked at me.

"Do you have the keys to the car?" she asked, and she gave Buck a small wave.

I rolled my eyes and shoved her out the door. "If your head wasn't attached to your body, Janice, you'd fuckin' lose that, too."

She smiled at me as if she thought it was funny. "Negative Nancy is at it again."

"I'm not in the mood for this." I really didn't want to admit it, but Bobby's little confrontation had me on edge. "Let's just get our asses home, alright? I got shit I need to take care of."

She swung her arm across my shoulders and leaned her head on top of mine. "I'm sure Tim can get Bobby off your ass, if you ask him real nicely."

"Shut the fuck up, Janice," I grumbled, elbowing her in the side. "Tim ain't got a fuckin' thing to do with this."

That seemed to sober her up some. She yanked on my arm and planted her feet, giving me a firm look as she pulled me around to face her. "So you are in some real trouble, huh?"

I shrugged and looked off to the side. There was this feeling in my stomach that the hairs on the back of my neck and my arms standing on end, and I think she saw it. Janice was the only person I couldn't keep anything from. I'd stopped trying at an early age.

"I wouldn't worry about it," I told her, digging the toe of my shoe into the dirt. "I always come out on top, don't I?"

She grabbed my chin in her hand and forced me to look at her. "One of these days, your luck is gonna run out, you know that?" She dug her fingers into my jaw, trying to get her point across. "And you know what happens when you stop being lucky, Dallas? You end up dead."

She let my face go roughly and shook her head, looking about as disgusted as I reckoned I'd ever seen her.

"I ain't dumb, Janice," I spat, and I wanted to slug that look off her face. "Don't fuckin' stand there and act like you're the only one rattled over this. It ain't got shit to do with you."

"I never said you was dumb." Her voice was so low and unsteady that I could hardly hear her. "But you're my kid brother, so it has everything to do with me."

I swallowed and rubbed my jaw. There were little imprints of her nails in the skin, and she was lucky I didn't backhand her the way I wanted to right then.

"Let's just go, Janice," I said, turning on my heel. I felt her slip her arm over my shoulders again, and from the corner of my eye, I saw her grinning as we walked toward the car.

"This weekend, let's have an old-fashioned, down-south cookout." She gave me a sideways look. "Invite all of your hoodlum little friends."

I rubbed my nose and narrowed my eyes. "And who do you expect is gonna do the cookin'?"

"You."

"Stop talking, Janice." I was nearly begging her. "Do you hear yourself, or is it that you just really like the sound of your own voice?"

She gave me a shove as we came up to the car. "Give me the keys so we can get out of here."

Digging into my pocket for the keys, I was hoping she'd take me any place that wasn't home. The last thing I needed right then was to look at our mom and know that everything she went through was because of me and Janice.

Sometimes I wondered how Janice slept at night.

PS: Reviews would be just lovely. ;)