Chapter One

Welcome to the Jungle

A/N This was something I had written a long time ago and I thought that it was time to publish it! Tom Hardy I would say it honestly one of my favorite actors. So I hope you will enjoy this story as I try to keep updating it.

She was a boy. At least everyone thought so. Never in her life has she worn one of them beauty dresses, the idea was foreign to her. Florence always wore her brothers shirts and some of their old-worn trousers. Her large breasts were always tucked in underneath a very tight shirt, surprisingly hiding them well. Her brown greasy hair was always tied up and hidden underneath a cap, never once had she wore it down. Florence preferred to look like a boy anyways. She didn't understand why woman were so desperate to please men, to look so pretty and to dress impressively for them. To her men are vile creatures. And they will always remain as such.

Florence hid well from others, she was constantly working hard for her family and thankfully her daddy and her brothers always did the talking for her. The people of Franklin County thought that she was a mute since she never once had talked to any of them. She was happy to be kept to herself and having no ones attention.

She was drifting away deeply into her thoughts as she was carrying wood to her cabin home. Her father was walking towards her with a glass of lemonade. He had that soft smile, the smile that he always gave to her mother before she passed away. "Baby girl, ya' workin' to hard for ya' own good. Sometimes I think ya' work harder than ya' idiot brothers," he said jokingly as he handed her the glass. She smiled down, looking at the bottom of the glass as she drank up that cool lemonade.

Her father looked down on his hands, still trying to wipe the dark oils on his pants.

Florence's dark eyes were watching her father as he was doing so, she put down the glass cup and then quietly asked him, "Been working on the tractor again, Pop?" He grabs the cup away from her hands and nods knowingly.

"I've been," he agreed. The two then started walking towards their wooden home.

Florence left the wood outside next to their house, sweat was pouring from all sides of her head to all sides of her body. She rolled up her dirt smeared sleeves, passing her elbows. Her father then suggested, "Why don't you cool down at the pond? Try to bring back a few of them fishes."

"Alright. See ya' in a few, Pop," she said distractedly. He smiled appreciably and then handed her fishing sticks and a small pistol. Her legs jumbled through the lively forest, breaking branches as she stepped on them and kicking rocks to the side. She observed the pond cautiously hoping that no one would come, she stepped quietly on the grass walking to the edge of the pond. Florence sat down on an old wooden dock and set her things onto the side.

The day was hot but cooled down when it came closer to the afternoon. An hour passed by and she only caught one fish, she didn't mind of course, luckily she was a patient woman. She set her feet into the warm water as she happily whistled to a soft tune.

Until something-or someone distracted her.

He coughed behind her and she jumped up looking at him. "I've never seen ya' here before," he said kindly. She blinked and hesitated while she was observing his young handsome face. She has seen him with a couple of other boys at the shops or at the apple farms. This boy had curly brown hair and overalls, his face was dirty and still you could see his light freckles across his face.

Her neck craned her head downwards, thinking how to communicate with this boy. She replied gruffly hoping she sounded somewhat like a boy, "I come 'ere sometimes."

He smiled at her response as held his fishing supplies in one hand and held out the other. "My name's Jack Bondurant. The youngest of the Bondurant brothers."

Jack waited for her to shake his hand. Her hat was covering her face throughout the conversation, hoping that it would ward him off. Florence clasps her hands towards his into a firm handshake. "Name's 'Rence. The youngest of the Whyte brothers."

She looked at him just has his face tries to recover from a surprise. He stuttered, "You-you're part of the Whyte family? Well, I'll be damned. I didn't know ya' was the youngest out of ya' three oldest brothers. I always thought Clement was the youngest. I didn't even know your pop had a fourth son."

An awkward taste filled her hot throat. And she shrugged it off. "I don't go out much. I like to stay behind an' work." Her small, rough calloused hands began to scratch her stiff neck. "Not much knows about me."

He chuckled as he sat down on the edge of the dock. He motioned for her to sit down next to him. "You're weird. I think we're gonna be great friends, Rence. Ya' know you 'mind me of my older brother Forrest. Don' go out too much, he prefers working all day."

She just hymned in response. She took out her fishing pole once more and he was talking once more, "My friend Cricket'll be coming real soon. He love to fish em' small trouts. He's an awkward fella himself, but who isn't these days."

Florence only agreed peacefully in response. It'll be an odd relationship between the three adolescents, but for some odd reason she had a good feeling about their relationship. What's the worst that could go wrong? She was tired of being cooped up in her home with her family of men.

A few weeks later...

"Rence, you never told me that you were a straight shooter?!" Cricket yells out excitedly. They couldn't contain their excitement when she used her bow and arrow to shoot a large turkey that could feed a family of six. "I've haven't seen anyone shoot like that 'cept for the professionals!" They were in the meadows in which the turkeys would wobble away, being an easy shot. It took some time to hunt one since they were trained to be scared of any type of noise.

Jack couldn't help but to agree. He had honestly never seen someone use archery as a hunting skill before. Of course, he use to hear stories from his great gran-pappy about the Native Indians using those tools to hunt game. Jacks only seen people use their rifles and hunting knives to kill their food. "We'll be eating real nice tonight. Ain't that right Rence?" Jack added gratefully. He patted her on the back praising her for her useful skill.

Florence's mind panicked much, her heart racing. How could she say no? She knew for a fact that Jack and Cricket would be fighting for her to come and eat dinner at the Bondurants residence. There was always a reason why she dressed like a boy. Everyone knew that Franklin County was not a safe place for anyone, especially for a woman. Her Pop always told her that it was safer to be a boy. Growing up, her father and her brothers taught her everything from archery to shooting many types of guns. They even taught her how to maneuver knives in fights, they taught her how to fight anyone at any size. Not only she grew up with her own family, her cousins from her mothers side preformed acrobatic shows for the Grizzly Brothers Circus and taught her different moves on how to get from point A to point B in the fastest and in the slyest ways. That's all she ever did every summer was be with her cousins, that is until they were moved to Europe last year.

She was lucky enough to be ignored by others, but she can't have the attention of another family. She had to stammer out an excuse, "We-we'll, I can't. I have to tend the farm and.." She breathed to calm down a bit. "How bout' you take the turk' ?"

Cricket and Jack stood there taken aback. She's never rambled on like that before, maybe this would have been her third sentence this week. Perhaps this is the loudest she has ever talked before. Cricket sat down on a fallen tree as Jack walked towards Florence, hands on his belt and he sniffed. "C'mon, Rence! What kinda' dinner would it be without its hunter who got us our food?! I think it's bout' time you come and see our lil' store and meet my brothers! They're gonna' wonder who hunted this!" He wondered out loud.

Which is exactly why I don't wanna go, she thought grumpily. Why would anyone want her in their dinner table she was just so-so odd with others. But, their faces told her something entirely different. They really wanted her to be there, not cause she also hunted, but to be there as their friend. Her relationship grew with them in the past few weeks, even though she hadn't said much, but they accepted her without thought. It took her sometime, the boys didn't think she would have answered, but she did anyways, "Alright, les' get going then. I have to be home before eight o'clock."

Jack yelped in triumph along with Cricket. "That's alright. We have dinner at six. C'mon lets get the turkey goin' the faster the better." And that's when the trio started walking towards the Bondurants home.

They finally made it into the small store and made into the small kitchen. Florence took the heavy bird from Jack and asked, "Do you have an ax outside? I need to chop its head and then pluck its feathers." He nodded and showed her the way outside the kitchen doors.

Jack handed her the wooden ax and sheepishly asked her, "Something tells me you know how to cook these turks'. Maybe you can teach us?" He scratches his arm waiting for her hopeful answer.

She had a nice soft chuckle and nodded. She then gestured to the Turkey in her hands and informed Jack and Cricket to listen. "We gotta' pluck the bird then chop its head." They did nothing except follow in her footsteps. Jack began plucking the bird while Florence and Cricket were watching him like a hawk. She then told Jack to chop the head. A little while after that they gutted the bird, taking its tiny organs and waste out of its body. After an hour the bird was already prepared, seasoned and laying on its tray ready to be put into the oven.

Both Jack and Cricket watched Florence placing the turkey in the oven. She sighed happily, "And that's how you turkey, boys." She rested her hands on her hips.

Big mistake.

The boys could've swore that she just looked like a gal in that pose. Her eyes widened, realizing what she was doing. She hurriedly took her hand off of her hips and said something to distract the boys, "Do you have any mashed potatoes? Any gravy? Or something to drink?"

"We have a lot of left over mashed potatoes. Howard made too much, so I suppose we can warm 'em up again. And, uh my brothers and I like to drink shine while we eat." She nodded off handedly.

Dinner finally arrived and the table was set, drinks and the food were waiting for the guest to come and greet. Florence was washing her hands in the back room until she heard new voices coming in the store.

"Smells so fucking good! Is that turkey that I smell?" Said a loud and obnoxious voice. "Damn, lil' brother I didn't know you was a house wife!" Florence guessed that, that would be one of the brothers walking in as he slammed the door wide open.

"I didn't cook it you idiot. My friend Rence made it for us, he hunted down the turkey with one shot of an arrow. Right in the turkeys heart," Jack stated proudly.

"And where is this 'friend', Jack" demanded a smooth, dark and lustful voice. The hardwood floors creak from the weight of the man. Instantly, one would notice that this man came in size and was not to be toyed with.

"He's washing his hands right now, Forrest. He'll be out," Cricket answered for him. Florence closed her eyes nervously and looked at herself once more to check if she looked like a boy. She swallowed in her gut and finally walked outside into the kitchen.

Forrest thought that the boy was the smallest thing he had ever seen. Maybe the same size as Cricket. But from what he has heard from the boys, Rence is a damn good shot and a damn great cook. If mama taught him any manners, she would taught him that they should welcome and thank the cook. He stalked towards Rence, holding out his large, strong hand while the other was in the pocket of his cardigan and greeted gruffly, " 'M name's Forrest Bondurant, this 'ere is the family store and my brother Howard."

"Howdy," Howard said with a wide smile.

Florence shook both of their hands strongly, maintaining firm eye contact with them, trying to look manly as possible. "The name's Rence Whyte," she murmured.

Forrest had to admit that the boy has some balls looking straight in the eye like that. No one ever did that. He had to say though that the boy almost has feminine features, maybe his eyes were fooling him. And lastly, Rence said that he was a Whyte and Whytes were.. well-

"Tough sons of bitches is what your family is boy," Howard hollered loudly as everyone began to take their seats at the table."I didn't know they had a fourth son."

"Rence here stays behind to work at the farm or hunt. Doesn't like to go out much into the market," Jack answered for her as he placed mashed potatoes on everyones plates. "His pop buys our brew though. Thinks it's the best damn drink in the county."

The turkey was being cut by Forrest, whose mouth was watering like a starving mutt. He knew that this boy could cook if he made his mouth water like it did-of course he didn't show it. Slices were handed out by Forrest, easily giving the first pick to Rence then the boys and lastly himself. He took his first bite, relaxing into his seat. The savoring taste made his eyes roll behind his head in extreme content.

"Holy shit. This is the best damn turkey I've ever ate," Howard remarked with amazement. It had gotten to the point in where all that was left in Howard's plate was the sweet and sour juices that fell from the turkey as he sucked the bone dry. Forrest couldn't help but agree. The only damn thing he would be able to cook would be coffee, toast and eggs. Enough stability for the day was good enough for him.

After thanking Florence for dinner, Forrest took it upon himself to drive the frail boy home. The drive was a short ten minute ride, in which Florence felt like it was hours. Well, what can she say? She's never been alone with a man, let alone a handsome one. She didn't like looking into his eyes, she didn't like to talk. And Forrest respected that, cause that is how he is. For him life is too short, and so it must be taken seriously and with a clever mind.

When they finally arrived, Forrest bid Florence good-bye and reversed his truck from the driveway.

Something tells Forrest that the boy will be coming more often-with trouble.

Because he knows for a fact Rence isn't who he really is.