WHOSE ASS DO WE HAVE TO KISS TO GET A SOFTBALL FIELD?

Jaycee Stevens smiled at the shocked expressions her sign generated from all the baseball fans as she stepped onto the field in her softball uniform. Good, and she hoped it embarrassed the hell out of the school board officials who were there to unveil the new lights they’d bought for Randolph High School’s baseball field when the softball team had no field at all.

“Hold it!” Coach Watson shouted from behind third base as Jaycee walked through the gate. “Get out of here, Stevens! I told you I wasn’t putting up with any more of your stunts!”

Jaycee responded by walking to the middle of the field and sitting cross-legged on the pitching rubber, her super-short blonde hair curling wildly as if in like-minded defiance, and the six earrings curving up her right ear glittering in the brand-new $50,000 lights.

Randolph’s first baseman Scott Simmons ran over to the mound. “Get off the field or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you off!”

The right fielder for the other team planted his six-foot-four frame between Jaycee and the other Randolph players who’d joined Scott. “Touch her and you’ll deal with me,” he said. “She’s got a right to be heard.”

Scott looked at the guy’s imposing stature and apparently reconsidered his threat. “Yeah, whatever. I hope Coach calls the law on her trouble-making ass.”

Jaycee swung her sign at the back of the tall young man’s legs. “Hey, mind your own damn business! I don’t need your help!”

A reporter and cameraman arrived from WSFA in nearby Montgomery claiming they’d gotten an anonymous call about an expected disturbance and wanted to ask the young lady some questions. Once Jaycee had been interviewed on camera and allowed to voice her complaints, she agreed to leave so play could resume, but she accosted the right fielder in the parking lot as he walked to his car after the game.

“Hey, Dudley DoRight! Who said I needed you to rescue me? If the cameras had gotten a shot of that Neanderthal trying to haul me off the field, I could’ve been the top story on the ten o’clock news.”

He stopped and turned around. “The name is Cole McGee. Sorry if I screwed up your plan, but my mama raised me to help a lady when she needs it, and I always try to make Mama proud.”

“Well, Mama’s Boy”—Jaycee put her hands on her hips and looked up into his blue-gray eyes—”who the hell told you I was a lady?”

“Sorry. My mistake.” He resumed walking and was about to open his car door when she tapped him on the shoulder.

“Gonna offer me a ride? Or didn’t your mama also teach you not to leave girls stranded in dark parking lots?”

“As a matter of fact, she did. Get in and I’ll take you home.”

“There you go assuming again.” Jaycee slid over to the middle of the front seat. “Who said I wanted to go home?”

“Okay, then where to?” He got in and started the car. “And do you have a name, or do you just go by Trouble?”

She held out her hand. “Jaycee Laine Stevens, and you can take me wherever you want as long as it’s secluded.”

His eyebrows went up slightly as he shook her hand. “And why would we need to go somewhere like that?”

Jaycee looked into his eyes again without a trace of facetiousness. “Because I’m gonna lose my virginity to you, Cole McGee.”

She was rewarded by his shocked expression, but then he smiled.

“I think I know just the place.”

***

Jaycee had been shocking people for so long it had become her philosophy for life. After her mother died and her father retreated into a bottle of Jack Daniels and shut himself off from the world, six-year-old Jaycee had learned quickly that misbehaving kept her from being ignored. Seventeen-year-old Jaycee had outrageousness down to an art.

Her chastity until Cole came along had nothing to do with virtue. Thanks to a pair of generous contributions she’d received from Mother Nature, boys had been trying to feel her up ever since she’d outgrown her training bra. But when the boys had all grown bigger and stronger than she was, Jaycee had halted her sexual escapades out of fear she’d be forced into unprotected sex that would leave her pregnant. No way would she risk screwing up the big plans she had for her life, because she had no intention of staying in Surplus, Alabama a second longer than she had to.

But she was captivated from the start by Cole McGee, the chivalrous mama’s boy who was so tall and effortlessly good-looking, and he fell equally hard for Jaycee. She relished his devotion, but it also triggered her instinct to protect herself. She’d already had her heart broken twice by her mother’s death and her father’s rejection, so she had to be careful not to let Cole know how she really felt. No matter how much she cared about the easygoing guy who always made her feel cherished and who whispered he would always love her while their naked bodies explored the endless mysteries of being seventeen, she’d be damned if she’d let anybody or anything get in the way of her dreams.

Because maybe she didn’t have a mother to show her how to dress or talk or act properly, and maybe her father forgot she was alive most of the time, and maybe she wasn’t pretty or smart or rich, but people looked at her when she walked down the street or the halls at school. So what if they all thought she was weird? At least they knew her name and wouldn’t soon forget it.

And they sure as hell couldn’t ignore her.

***

Three-quarters of the way through her last year of high school in 1981, Jaycee received the letter that would change her life and didn’t open it. Furious over the handling of her article by the school newspaper’s faculty advisor, she tossed the mail on her bed when she got home and dropped her books on the floor, kicking one of them viciously for good measure.

She needed to see Cole and tell him what they’d done to her. Too damn bad if his parents didn’t like her coming to the restaurant while he was working. She smiled as she thought of how she would make him glad to see her, and she decided to go anyway. Cole could just calm down the old geezers later.

She considered a bath but didn’t feel like heating the water and lugging it from the kitchen to the bathroom. Shit, when was the old man gonna get off his drunken ass and get the gas turned back on? She put on a halter top to guarantee herself a ride, then she brushed her teeth and grabbed her copy of The Randolph Review on her way out of the room. Thanks to a greasy-haired yokel in a pickup who stared at her boobs the whole ride, she charged into the restaurant fifteen minutes later, a blonde tempest heedless of anything in her path.

“You won’t believe where they put it, Cole!” Jaycee burst through the kitchen’s swinging double doors brandishing the offensive newspaper in front of her. “Stuck at the bottom of page two with a bunch of crap about showing school spirit and ordering a yearbook!”

Cole looked up from the onions he was chopping. “You knew they wouldn’t put it on the front page, Jaycee. Page two’s not so bad.”

She dragged a stool over to the counter where he was working and hopped onto the seat, slapping down the newspaper next to the cutting board.

“It’s a fuc—” She stopped and corrected herself, the one concession she’d made in her vocabulary at Cole’s request. “I mean, it’s a frigging insult, considering the lead story is a riveting piece on the top five most-popular teachers. And wait until you hear how they butchered it!”

The middle-aged waitress who worked the afternoon shift appeared at the door. “Cole, you know I’m not supposed to let her in here.”

“It’s okay, Teresa.” He waved her away. “They went to deliver dinners to the retirement home and won’t be back for another hour or so. She’ll be gone by then.” He swept a lock of brown hair from his eyes with the back of his hand. “Go ahead and read it to me, Jace.”

Jaycee sighed and opened the paper to the second page. “The frigging title isn’t even right. They changed it to ‘Double Standards for Baseball and Softball Teams Unfair.’ It’s supposed to be ‘Bite Me, Baseball Boy’!”

Cole laughed, sobering quickly when he got a dark look. “Sorry, Jace. Go ahead.” He finished the onions while he listened, stirring them into a mammoth pot of chili on the stove before making batter for hushpuppies.

Jaycee looked at him with a triumphant smile when she was done. “It’s a helluva lot better than the tripe they usually print, isn’t it? Even with the way they chopped it up.”

“It’s great.” Cole dried his hands on a towel as he walked over to her. “I’m sure it’ll offend all the baseball people and get the softball folks good and riled up the way you like ‘em. I especially liked the way you called the baseball coach ‘a shortsighted chauvinist intimidated by strong women.’ Your tact is impressive.”

“Tact is for cowards.” Jaycee tiptoed to put her arms around his neck and kiss him. “My motto is ‘Shock the shit out of ‘em with the truth and make ‘em try to prove you wrong’.”

Cole shook his head and smiled down at her. “How did a peace-loving guy like me fall for such a radical hell raiser?”

“Simple. I seduced your ass, and you’ll never get enough of me.” She put his hand inside her shirt and pressed it against her bare breast.

“Stop it, Jaycee. You know I can’t leave.”

“Just for a little while, Cole. I promise you’ll like it.” She put her hand on the front of his jeans and smiled when it rose immediately against her palm. She undid his zipper and wrapped her fingers tightly around him, laughing softly when she heard him suck in his breath.

“All right, you win,” he said. “Just let me just finish up here first. And you need to wait in the car, or I’ll never get anything done.”

“Okay, Cole. I’ll just go get everything warmed up for you while I wait.” She ran her hands over her breasts and belly, then slid them slowly between her legs.

His eyes rolled back in his head. “I give up. Let’s go.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the back door, and Jaycee’s smile widened. Didn’t he know better than to refuse her? He was hers—the only thing she had that was worth a damn—and nobody was going to keep him from her. Not even his parents.

***

An hour later, they were still naked in the back seat of his car, parked in a secluded area off the road leading to his house—the place they’d gone to the night they met. They’d been forced to start using it again after Jaycee’s father had come home early one afternoon and threatened to shoot Cole when he caught them making out on the couch.

“I mean it this time, Jaycee,” Cole said, reaching for his underwear. “We can’t do it again. I gotta get back.”

She snatched his shorts from his hand and stuffed them behind her back. “One more time, Cole. You know you want to.”

“You’re right, but I also wanna live to see eighteen. My folks’ll kill me if I’m not there when they get back.” He tried to reach behind her back, but she wrapped her legs around him and locked her ankles.

“Don’t be such a chickenshit, Cole, and I’ve got you trapped anyway. You’re not getting away until you perform.” She pushed his head down so his face was between her breasts. “I’m the mistress and you’re my slave.”

He laughed into her chest. “You’re so warped.”

“You know you love it. I feel that bad boy waking up down there.” She unlocked her legs and reached for his semi-hard penis, stroking him until he was completely erect.

“Okay, okay. One last time.”

He shuddered and moved his hips into position over hers, but she put her hand on his chest.

“Don’t forget the rubber.”

“I don’t have another one. Did you bring any?”

“Shit!”

“I’ll take that as a no,” he said. “But we can still do it, Jaycee. I can pull out in time.”

“Forget it.” She handed him his underwear from behind her. “I learned my lesson the last time you told me that.”

“But we hadn’t just done it twice then. I can control it better this time.”

“I said forget it, Cole. I don’t want your brat screwing up my life.” She saw the wounded look on his face and felt a pang of guilt, but she only pushed him away and started to get dressed.

“Why do you say things like that, Jaycee? Just to hurt me?”

“It’s nothing personal, Cole. I don’t want anyone’s brat.”

“Oh, thanks.” He snatched his shirt from the back of the seat and jerked it over his head. “I feel much better now.”

When they were both dressed and back in the front seat, she said, “Look, I know you don’t have time to take me home, so just go back to the restaurant and I’ll get a ride from there.”

“I told you I don’t want you doing that anymore.” He started the car without looking at her. “I’ll take you home.”

“Don’t be stupid, Cole. You need to get back, and I’ve been riding my thumb since I was eleven years old. Just go to the frigging restaurant.”

He slammed his hands against the steering wheel. “Damn it, Jaycee! It’s dangerous and you’re not gonna do it anymore!”

“Kiss my little round ass, Cole McGee! You don’t tell me what to do!” She reached for the door handle, but he grabbed her other arm.

“Where do you think you’re going? It’s almost a mile back to the road.”

She struggled to free her arm. “Let me go! I don’t need you or anybody else to take care of me!”

“Jaycee, please . . .” He tried to pull her over beside him. “Don’t run away from me. I’m sorry.”

She hated when he did that—apologizing when it wasn’t even his fault. And she knew what he would say next too.

“I love you, Jaycee. I’ll always love you.”

Why did it still slay her to hear him say that? Would she ever get used to it? She stopped resisting and let him pull her to him, momentarily lost in the euphoria of being loved the way she had always wanted. He turned up her face and kissed her, and she kissed him back fiercely, the closest she could come to an apology.

He pressed his face against her neck. “What’s so terrible about me taking care of you? You know I want to marry you.”

Jaycee squelched the hope that always tried to invade her heart whenever he talked about marrying her. “It’d never work, Cole. We’re too different.”

“That would just keep it interesting. At least we’d never be bored.”

“You’re a romantic fool, Cole McGee. Why the hell don’t you find some shy, sweet girl who appreciates you?”

“Because I fell in love with a foul-mouthed troublemaker who seduces me over and over.”

Jaycee had to laugh. “Oh, right. You’re a horny romantic fool.”

She let him take her home but wouldn’t let him come inside, even though her father’s junker wasn’t in the driveway.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said when she got out of the car.

“No you won’t. You’ll be grounded for a frigging month after this, all because you’re too damn stubborn to listen to me.”

He snorted a laugh. “I guess the fact that you made me leave in the first place had nothing to do with it.”

“Glad you understand. Call me in a month, but only if you’re stocked up on rubbers.”

She waved from the porch as he drove away, then she eyed her house dubiously. It was after five-thirty and she’d forgotten to leave on any lights, which meant it would be dark inside. Darkness terrified Jaycee for a reason she couldn’t quite remember and didn’t really want to because she suspected the reason was worse than the fear itself. She’d had nightmares off and on since the age of six and knew it had to do with monsters and a dark closet, but that was all she knew.

Cole didn’t know about it, of course. Admitting she was afraid of anything was not in Jaycee’s makeup, and she certainly didn’t want him to know about a fear as stupid and childish as this one. But, as she peered in the window beside the door, she started to wish she had let him come in with her after all. Maybe she’d just wait on the porch until the old man got home.

“Yeah, right,” she said. “Like he might suddenly decide not to get wasted on a Friday night and come home for a rousing game of Charades with his smartass kid.”

She made a mental note to keep a flashlight on the porch in the future, then she took a deep breath and stuck her key in the lock. Since the porch light didn’t work, the closest light switch was on the far side of the living room, so she decided to fling open the door and make a mad dash to the switch. She would just keep her eyes closed.

“Oh, that’s brilliant,” she said. “It won’t be nearly as dark that way.”

She counted to ten, then she turned the knob and pushed open the door in one swift motion, running with her eyes closed after all. She thought she knew the exact location of every piece of worn-out furniture in the living room, but she forgot the gym bag she’d left in front of the couch. She tripped over it at a full run and ended up sprawled in the middle of the floor with the breath knocked out of her.

Heedless of the pain in her chest and lungs, Jaycee scrambled across the floor on her hands and knees, the nightmare returning in a vivid rush. She couldn’t see anything, but she knew something horrible was there, hurting her with its monster hands as it got ready to eat her at any second. She curled herself into a ball and sobbed in terror and desolation, a six-year-old once again with no one to comfort her, wishing with all her might that her daddy would come and save her.

But he didn’t come, and Jaycee stayed that way until the room filled with the gray light of dawn. She climbed into her bed and lay shivering in the early-morning air, unable to sleep despite her exhaustion. Her body ached from her night on the floor, and she felt like an idiot because she hadn’t been able to overcome the fear. She pulled up the blanket to warm herself with her breath just as the door banged open and her father stared at her from the doorway with red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes.

She peered at him over the edge of the blanket. “What the hell do you want?”

“Where is he, girl?” Jake asked. “Hiding under the blanket with you?”

Jaycee sighed. Shit, here we go again.

“There’s nobody here, Jake. I’ve been alone all night as usual.”

He staggered into the room and lunged toward the bed, reaching out to grab the covers and snatch them off. Jaycee tried to hold on, but her fingers were cold and it affected her grip.

“Why you still got all your clothes on?” he demanded. “You just get home?”

“You wouldn’t have to ask me that if you’d been here.” Jaycee hugged her arms around herself and shivered. “Leave me alone and go sleep it off, old man.”

Before she saw it coming, the back of his right hand connected with her cheekbone, then all she saw for a moment were bursts of light inside her head.

“Don’t call me an old man, you smart-mouthed little tramp! I can still whip your ass, and your horny little boyfriend’s too! Now where the hell is he?”

It was useless to argue with him when he was like this, so Jaycee just tried to protect her face with her arms. “He left, okay? He’s gone!”

Jake grabbed her by both arms and pulled her upright on the bed. “Didn’t I tell you not to bring him here no more? This is my house, and you ain’t gonna play your nasty little games under my roof!” His heavily muscled laborer’s arms shook her until her head wobbled on her neck. “I know what you do with him. I saw you that day I came home and found you with your hand in his pants and your tits in his face!”

Jaycee knew she would pay for her next words, but she said them anyway.

“And you can’t stand it because you wish it was you. Don’t you, Jake?”

He threw her backward and her head banged against the headboard, setting off more lights behind her eyes. Before her vision had time to clear, Jaycee knew a blow was coming because she heard him taking off his belt, so she pulled up her legs in defense.

“You shut your dirty mouth!” he yelled as he swung the belt. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that, I’m your father!”

Jaycee had been covering her face with her arms as the belt struck her over and over, but she lifted her head and caught the belt in her hand.

“But that’s what makes it so bad, Jake. My own father drooling over me worse than the boys at school. You think I don’t see you looking at me—hoping to get a peek at something every time I reach up or bend over? Well, here’s an eyeful for you, old man! Have yourself a good look!”

She pulled up her shirt and exposed her breasts. Jake gasped and dropped the belt to cover his eyes.

“You filthy little slut,” he said through his tears. “Lying little whore.”

“Don’t try to deny it, Jake. If I’m lying, then why do you have that world-class boner?”

He looked down at the protrusion in his work pants and let out a choked sob, then he turned and ran from the room. Jaycee got off the bed and picked up the belt, throwing it out the door behind him.

“That’s right! Run away and hide, you perverted old man! And don’t come near me again or I’ll write something to tell the whole town how you get your jollies!” She slammed the door and locked it, then she threw herself on the bed and curled into a ball.

Well, she’d gotten what she’d wished for all night. Her daddy had finally come home.