“So, you finally called me, huh?” Bitterness was thick in his voice. He sounded choked, just like I was, but also angry. Resentful. “It only took you ten years.”
“I’m sorry, Billy, I couldn’t—”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for all the money you sent. God only knows I wouldn’t have made it without it, but all I wanted for my birthdays was to hear your voice.” His words trailed off, his voice shattering. “Goddamn it, sis! He was beating on both of us, you know.”
My fingers clutched the receiver until my knuckles whitened. “It was different for me.” I paused for a moment, hearing his deep breaths on the other end of the call. “I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t take it anymore. I hope you can forgive me.”
“You’re saying he . . .”
He didn’t finish his question, and I didn’t want him to. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying, Billy Ray,” I replied quietly. “You were very young, just a little boy. You didn’t know what was going on.”
“I ... I suspected,” he said, his voice unsteady. “You should’ve told me!” The raw helplessness in his voice shattered something inside me. “Son of a fucking bitch ... We could’ve done something!”
The anger in his voice filled me with a different kind of fear. “Now, don’t you go doing anything—”
“He’s already rottin’ in the ground, don’t worry.” He drew air forcefully, then mumbled an oath under his breath. “I might dig his bones up and stomp them till they’re nothin’ but dust. If he were alive right now, I’d kill him right where he’d stand.”
I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. My father was dead. The sick son of a bitch was gone from this earth and couldn’t hurt me anymore. Only, he kept on hurting me from beyond the grave, and would do so until the end of time. “How did he die?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer.
“A big ol’ rattler got him. The week I turned eighteen.” A shuddering sigh escaped my brother’s lips.
In the dark space behind my closed eyelids, memories started coming together like snippets of a movie. Colton, Billy, and me, catching rattlesnakes with a rake and a burlap bag, so they wouldn’t go into the stables. The boys putting the rattlers in old coolers and leaving them by the edge of our stables near the road, with an empty can of beer on top, to keep thieves from coming after our horses. A hillbilly’s alarm system.
The images from my past shifted. In my mind, I saw Billy putting a rattler into an old cooler and leaving it by the house, in my father’s path. The beer can must’ve gotten his attention; my brother would’ve used one of my father’s. The old man must’ve opened the cooler to see if Billy had stolen more of his beer. Then the rattler must’ve leaped from inside, crazed from heat and hunger and being trapped in that cooler.
“Where did they find him?” I asked.
“I found him myself, by the house, near the well. The rattler got him good. Bit him several times. He tore the snake in half before he died.”
Billy must’ve waited for a while after he heard the shouts and grunts, then checked to see if the bastard was dead. Then he must’ve taken the cooler and hid it somewhere before calling the police.
My heart ached for my little brother, all alone on that wretched farm, battling life. Had I known our father was gone, I would’ve called. I would’ve gone home to visit. For Billy, I would’ve risked never being able to leave Texas again. Because I would’ve never been able to leave him behind again.
“I need you, Billy,” I said instead. “I don’t have—I don’t trust anyone else.”
“You in trouble? Should I bring my rifle?”
“No ... just come get me.”
“Where are you, sis?”
“In Las Vegas.” He whistled in surprise. “I’m in jail.”
“Jeez, Hattie ...” I could hear him breathing heavily and stepping in place.
“Don’t call me that!” I snapped, louder and harsher than he deserved. I hated my name, and always had. “My name is Olivia Taylor now.”
A beat of silence. “All right, sis, I’m coming. What did they bust you for? Did you steal something?”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. “They say I killed a man,” I eventually said, my voice raw, scraping like sand over stone. Heavy silence filled the air between us. “I swear I didn’t do it, Billy Ray. I need help.”
“You want me to break you out?”
“No, of course not.” Another long moment of tense silence passed.
When he eventually spoke, his voice was different. More mature, hardened. “Funny how you remember me when you need help. Been waiting for you to call since the day you left. Been waiting for you to show at the bastard’s funeral, to have a drink with me by the graveside. Maybe hurl some boulders at his coffin and wish him good riddance.”
Guilt twisted in my chest. “Billy ... I didn’t know he was dead.” My voice was barely above a whisper. “And I was afraid to come back.”
