Read Online I Want Candy by Susan Donovan - Free Book Online Page A

for you, too. Just wait and see.”
    She nodded in silence.
    “Now is not the time to give up, babycakes.”
    “I know.”
    “You’re Candy Freakin’ Carmichael.”
    She snorted with laughter. “Hell, yes, I am—currently residing at the Cherokee Pines Assisted Living facility, thank you very much.”
    “Oh, Lord, girl…” Cheri said with a sigh. “Are you going to be okay tonight?”
    “Of course. The couch is comfy. Tater got my car working again. I’ll go to Lenny’s tomorrow and see about that job.”
    “I’m here. Always. I love you to death.”
    Candy felt herself smile. That was one thing that had never wavered, regardless of the wheres and the whys and the hows of her life—she could always count on Cheri.
    “I love you right back. Oh! And just one last thing.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Do not tell Turner where I am, okay? Don’t let J.J. tell him where I am, either. Let him assume I’m still at Viv’s. I need some space. I need to figure this out.”
    “What if he asks?” Cheri sounded torn. “You want me to lie to him?”
    “Ah, hell, I guess not. If he asks, tell him, but if he doesn’t ask, don’t bring it up.”
    “If you say so,” Cheri said.
    Candy ended the call and shoved her phone in her pocket, strolling toward the front door. She pulled on the handle but it was locked tight. Gerrall looked up from his laptop, grinned, and buzzed her in.
    “You have a good night now,” he said. “It’s sure nice to have a new face around here—especially one as pretty as yours.”
    “Thank you,” she said with as much politeness as she could muster, considering that Gerrall hadn’t been looking anywhere near her face when he’d said that. Do not trust him …
    Candy reached Jacinta’s apartment door and tried the knob. It, too, was locked tight.
    “Shee-it,” she hissed. She gently tapped her knuckles on the varnished wood. No response. She knocked a little louder. “Jacinta?” she whispered, looking up and down the hallway. “Jacinta? Mother? Open up!”
    “You know what they say—you can take the girl out of the trailer park…”
    Candy slowly turned toward the voice. Once again, she encountered the neighbor lady’s pinched little face framed in the halo of pink sponge rollers, and just had to laugh.
    “Lorraine, honey,” she said, “I’d freakin’ kill for a trailer right about now.”
    Jacinta flung open the door and glared spitefully at her neighbor. “Carmichaels do not live in trailer parks, you nosy old floozy!”
    “I never !”
    “That’s not what I heard!”
    As Candy staggered through the door and back to the couch, she told herself that tomorrow was another day. As soon as she was horizontal, she pulled the blanket over her head.
    *   *   *
     
    Gerrall grabbed the duffel bag from the trunk and made his way across the junk-strewn grass to the barn. The light was spilling out from the cracks in the old sliding doors and he sniffed the air for the telltale tang of meth production. It was nearly two A.M. and they were still cooking in there, which meant they were behind on product, which meant his daddy would be mean as hell. With the new organization pushing them so hard, his daddy was worse than he could ever remember. Gerrall figured the best he could hope for that night would be to drop the shit on the worktable and get out before his daddy decided to beat him black and blue. Maybe he’d sleep in the old tree house instead of the trailer tonight, just to be on the safe side.
    He pushed the door open a crack. Immediately, four sawed-off shotguns were aimed at his face. “It’s me,” he said, hearing the exhaustion in his own voice. He wondered how long it would be before one of these assholes started sampling the goods and got so jumpy they just shot his head off for the fun of it.
    “Well, looky who it is!” His daddy grinned at Gerrall and ground out his cigarette in the dirt floor of the workroom.
    The new cook screamed at him. “Fuck, Spivey!