Branded (Fall of Angels #1)(8)



“Gah, don’t worry about him. He’ll get over it,” I say, cocking my head. “He literally hates everyone from the reserve. I’m surprised he doesn’t hate me too.”

Hanson laughs. “Who says he doesn’t?”

I make a face, dunk my sponge into the water, and throw some at him. “Asshole.”

“Says the other asshole,” he retorts.

Now we’re in a water fight, and before we know it, we’re drenched. The glass is far from being clean, but at least we’re having fun. It’s better than moping around all day like my papa does. He wasn’t too happy when he saw what some vandals had done to the shop overnight. I swear, if I’d caught them in the act, I would have chased them with his gun.

Fucking rednecks, always trying to get on our backs. I don’t get why they want us out of here so badly. We don’t harm anyone. We’re just trying to make a life of our own here, and people are always making it difficult for us. I doubt anyone would ever do this on the reserve.

“Cleaning off the stank?”

I look over my shoulder at the obvious taunt. It’s the twins, Ben and Danny Burrell. Fuckers can’t even get good grades, yet they come here to belittle me. No fucking way. Not on my watch.

“Shut your fucking pie holes,” I reply.

They both burst out into laughter.

“What is that on the windows? Blood of a fucking pig?” Danny asks, laughing at the text written on the glass. “Good luck cleaning that off, Indian.”

Hanson throws his sponge at them, but they dodge it right away. “Get the fuck out of here!”

“It’s a free town, bitch. We can go wherever we want,” Ben says, throwing the sponge right back at Hanson.

I’m pretty fucking sure they did this. And then came back to admire their fucking work.

“Motherfuckers,” I spit. I’ve had enough of them and Derek’s shit. They’ve been hounding me at school and now here too. I’m done.

“What’d you want, huh?” Ben taunts, both of them approaching us with dirty looks.

I raise my fists. “Come at me,” I hiss. “I dare you. I fucking dare you.”

“What? You wanna get your ass beaten, boy?” Danny spits. “You’re nothing but a piece of Native trash.”

“Take that back,” I bark. “Or I swear to God, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?”

A voice from behind them makes them turn their heads. I look up. It’s my uncle Josiah Locklear. I haven’t seen him in years, not since we left the reserve. I almost didn’t recognize him, it’s been so long. But the moment I do, a smile appears on my face.

“You weren’t going to fight out here on the streets, were you?” Uncle Josiah asks. One stern look at the two boys has them backing off.

“No, sir, we were just fooling around.”

“Go play somewhere else then,” he says, cocking his head at them a couple of times. “Go on.”

“Yes, sir.” Both boys immediately run off.

I guess my uncle’s influence even spans to this town and beyond. And all that because he’s part of the council that oversees the reserve. People respect him, and the rednecks fear his power. That, or he just has loads of cash and can literally buy anything he sets his eyes on, including the Burrell farm. I don’t think the twins can afford to anger my uncle.

He’s a powerful man. One I admire.

“Uncle Jo!” I say with a big smile on my face.

He pulls me in for a hug and laughs too. “How you doing, boy?”

“All right, I guess,” I reply. But that’s kind of a lie. “I miss the reserve, though. Cooking out in the wild, making frybread with the family.”

“You still remember that? Aww …” He rubs my head and tousles my hair as if I’m still a little kid. “Yeah, those are the good memories all right.”

I swiftly step out of his arms when I notice Hanson staring at us.

“And who’s this?” Uncle Josiah asks.

Hanson holds out his hand. “Name’s Hanson.”

My uncle stares him down instead of shaking his hand, then says, “Nice to meet ya, boy.”

“He works at my papa’s shop too,” I add with an awkward smile. “He’s from the reserve like you.”

Uncle Josiah smiles back. “So your papa has you cleaning up the front of the shop?” He looks the window up and down, the letters still clearly visible, and shakes his head.

I glance at the racist words scribbled on the windows. “Yeah, people don’t really like us here.”

“Well, that’s no reason for them to behave like that,” he says, gesturing at the window.

I nod. “I’ve said that over and over, but Papa won’t listen. He thinks people will get used to us and that things will eventually settle down.” I rub the back of my neck, unsure what I should do. “It pisses me off that Papa lets everyone walk all over him. If it were up to me, I’d have beaten the shit out of them already.”

Uncle Josiah laughs. “Of course, you would. But your papa ain’t like that. He’s more of a gentle soul.” He places a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll appreciate it someday.”

“If you say so,” I reply, which he ignores.

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