Carnal Innocence Read Online Free PDF Page B

of the town’s two jail cells and moaned like a wounded dog. The three aspirin he’d downed had yet to take effect, and the army of chain saws buzzing inside his head were getting mighty close to the brain.
    He took his head out of his hands long enough to slurp down more of the coffee Burke had left him, then clamped it tight again, afraid it would fall off. Half hoping it would.
    As always, during the first hour after waking from a toot, Dwayne despised himself. He hated knowing that he’d strolled, smiling, into the same ugly trap again.
    Not the drinking. No, Dwayne liked drinking. He liked that first hot taste of whiskey when it hit the tongue, slid down the throat, settled into the belly like a long, slow kiss from a pretty woman. He liked the friendly rush that spread into his head after the second drink.
    Hell, he fucking loved it.
    He didn’t even mind getting drunk. No, there was something to be said about that floating time after you’d knocked back five or six. When everything looked fineand funny. When you forgot your life had turned ugly on you—that you’d lost the wife and kids you’d never wanted much in the first place to some fucking shoe salesman, that you were stuck in a dusty pisshole of a town because there was no place else to go.
    Yeah, he liked that floaty, forgetful time just fine.
    He didn’t particularly care for what happened after that. When your hand kept reaching for the bottle without warning the rest of you what was coming. When you stopped tasting and kept on swallowing just because the whiskey was there and so were you.
    He didn’t like the fact that sometimes the drink turned him nasty, so he wanted to pick a fight, any fight. God knew he wasn’t a mean-tempered man. That was his father. But sometimes, just sometimes, the whiskey turned him into Beau, and he was sorry for it.
    What scared him was that there were times when he couldn’t quite remember if he’d turned nasty or just passed out quietly. Whenever that happened, he was more than likely going to wake up in the cell with a hangover fit to kill.
    Gingerly, knowing that the movement could change the busy loggers in his head into a swarm of angry bees, he got to his feet. The sun streaming through the bars at the window all but blinded him. Dwayne shielded his eyes with the flat of his hand as he groped his way out of the cell. Burke never locked him in.
    Dwayne fumbled his way into the bathroom and whizzed out what felt like a gallon of the Wild Turkey that had filtered through his kidneys. Wishing miserably for his own bed, he splashed cold water in his face until his eyes stopped burning.
    He hissed through his teeth when the door slammed in the outer office, and whimpered just a little when Josie cheerfully called his name.
    “Dwayne? Are you in here? It’s your own sweet sister come to bust you out.”
    When he stepped into the doorway to lean weakly on the jamb, Josie raised her carefully plucked brows. “My oh my. You look like something three cats had to drag in.” She stepped closer, tapping a bright red nail onher bottom lip. “Honey, how do you see through all that blood in your eyes?”
    “Did I …” He coughed to clear the rust out of his throat. “Did I wreck a car?”
    “Not that I know of. Now, you come on along with Josie.” She moved to him to take his arm. When he turned his head, she stepped back fast. “Sweet Jesus. How many men have you killed with that breath?” Clucking her tongue, she dug in her purse and pulled out a box of Tic Tacs. “Here now, honey, you chew on a couple of these.” She popped them into his mouth herself. “Otherwise I’m likely to faint if you breathe on me.”
    “Della’s going to be real pissed,” he mumbled as he let Josie guide him to the door.
    “I expect she will—but when she finds out about Tucker, she’ll forget all about you.”
    “Tucker? Oh, shit.” Dwayne staggered back as the sun slammed into his eyes.
    Shaking her head, Josie pulled out