Texas Heat — Part 1

A thin line runs between betrayal and sacrifice. Figuring out the difference could cost a man his heart.

Pedro leaned over and placed a hand on Corey’s shoulder. “Corey, it’s time to quit, man.”

“You go ahead, Pedro. Tell the crew to knock off and go home. I’m going to check the specs for the staircase again before I leave. We set it tomorrow and I don’t want any mistakes.”

“Man, you’ve been here seven months and I ain’t seen you make one mistake yet.”

A half-smile lifted the corner of Corey’s mouth. “There’s always tomorrow, amigo.” Corey watched Pedro and four other workers gather their tools and pile into a road-weary pickup. He pictured the home-cooked meals, the caring women, and the houses full of happy kids waiting at home for them.

A familiar weariness dampened his spirits. He knew what caused it — loneliness and need. When a man denied their existence too long, they ate away at his core, leaving the better part of him bitter and raw.

He was only thirty-one years old; he wasn’t supposed to feel used up. Self-derision mocked him. What did he expect after spending twelve years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit? How did he forget the 4,380 days he’d waited for answers, and for the woman who never came?

Was it not supposed to matter? The truth was — it did. It was why he’d come back to Deliverance. For him, it was the place he’d gotten his express ticket to Hell. He’d heard it said that the Devil always got his due. That had been guaranteed the day he’d fallen in love with the Devil’s daughter. She was the reason he was here now. Tiffany Covington, the widow of Les Covington of Covington Oil, lived down a straight, two-lane highway a little north of Deliverance.

Yeah, he knew where she lived. He’d made it his business to know everything about her. At thirty-one, she was a widow with a twelve-year-old son named Joey. It galled him that she hadn’t waited until the door had closed on his cell before hooking herself a millionaire more than twice her age.

The Devil no longer lived in Deliverance though. Sam Glory, Tiffany’s father, now lived in a mansion in Austin — the present Governor of Texas. Just as well, Corey thought. Settling the score with Sam Glory would land him back in prison and ruin what was left of his life.

The loud barking of two black Labradors rerouted his attention. It was all the middle-aged woman on the other end of the leash could do to keep them in control. He continued to follow their progress, just to make sure they didn’t pose any threat to the three small girls riding their bicycles around the cul-de-sac. The dogs, and the woman they were pulling, soon passed with no mishap just as the street lights sputtered on.

More time had slipped by then he’d thought. With the daylight fading, he would have to give up the idea of working on the staircase. His back ached, and the muscles in his arms throbbed from working with the weight of the sculptured iron balustrade. The luxury of soaking in a hot tub before he made his way to Telli’s sounded better with every aching minute. But, he’d promised, so tonight that meant grabbing a quick shower and heading for the Steak Barn, home of the best Angus steaks west of the Mississippi. Besides, Telli let him indulge the one passion he still cared anything about — his music. This was the first Saturday night of the rodeo season. That meant a hungry crowd from the rodeo arena would fill the restaurant by 9 o’clock.

Telli liked bragging about his Saturday night entertainment. Corey chuckled. He’d been called many things in his thirty-one years, most of them less than complimentary. Being labeled entertaining was a step up, he supposed.

* * *

He pushed through the curtain leading to the rear of the plywood platform, loosely called a stage, and picked up his guitar. Telli gave him a short intro and nodded toward the microphone.

He sauntered forward with the confidence a familiar place gave a man, rested his booted foot on a low stool, and adjusted his guitar. He always took a moment before his first set to look over the audience, see what kind of crowd he was playing to.

Adrenaline revved his heartbeat to the maximum and the tightness in his throat threatened to choke him. Tiffany Covington sat at the center table with a young boy and two other couples. By her horrified expression, he was sure she recognized him.

She had changed some. Her blonde hair was shorter and a little darker, more honey-colored. He used to tease her about having hair the perfect shade of sun-glare. From what he could see, she had filled out a little in all the right places, though one thing had stayed the same. From across a room, her baby-blues could still twist a man’s gut. And as he knew all too well, at close quarters they could claim his soul.

He did the only thing he could. Standing on the stage holding a bright red guitar, he sang straight into her eyes. His heart ached with recognition. As he sang the lyrics of love gone bad, a truth he’d buried for over a decade rose like a bull rider heaved into the air. At eighteen, he’d foolishly given away his heart and the woman in front of him still owned it.

“I’m nothing without you. Come make me whole again.” The last words of the song coursed through his blood like hot molasses. As he played the final chord, he cursed the girl, his weakness, and Deliverance, Texas — where it all began.

Continue…