by Mary Jaine
"Call me 'mum', then Nicky, 'Mother' sounds so...stilted, formal, you know what I mean?"
I nodded and grinned, just glad that we could still talk normally after the morning's revelations. "OK, mum!" and she grinned back.
We took Judy's car and headed to the nearest golden arches, Judy giving a sigh of relief as we left the house.
"I am so glad to be out of there! Next time, remind me not to be so fucking smug, I nearly fainted when your mom walked in the door, and when she asked where you were, I...kind of told her. Look, I couldn't help it, OK? She's just not the kind of person I can lie to...!"
We sat in a corner booth in the fast-food joint after we'd ordered and picked up our breakfasts. While the girls were finishing their coffee's I ducked into the mens room, and when I came out two high-school boys were lounging at the booth, leering over Ashley and Judy. I noticed Ashley was flushing scarlet at whatever was being said to her, so I ghosted up behind them to hear for myself.
The taller of the two was dressed expensively, but badly, a lot of money had been spent on his clothes but he didn't wear them well, and as I came up I heard him say to her "I think you should come with me and my friend here, everyone knows about you, what you are, but if you're nice to us, we'll be nice to you, both of you. How 'bout it, Rag Doll, you wanna fuck?"
OK, that did it. I clamped my hand over the back of his neck and squeezed, hard, while I smacked his friend in the crotch just hard enough for him to lose interest in things for a while; playing rugby for five years has its advantages....
"Who's this fuck-wit, Darling?" I asked, and she looked at him with cold anger in her eyes. "His name's Bobby Czyzyck, he's a dick!"
I swung Bobby round to face me, and smiled brightly at him.
"Is that right Bobby, are you a dick? Tell you what, you apologise to the nice young lady, you say 'I'm very sorry for being a little dick, Miss Lowry', and I won't kick you 'til your eye-sockets bleed, does that sound reasonable?"
Bobby gabbled out an apology, and then I frogmarched him outside and into the alleyway by the side of the restaurant, turned him round and gave him a kick in the plums that made two little lumps pop up on top of his head. As his eyes crossed and he started to fold over, I gave him an open-handed slap that spun him round and sent him flying into a pile of what looked suspiciously like dogshit. I stood over him and waited until the retching stopped and I'd got his complete attention, then spoke to him.
"Now you listen to me, you little dog's cock; if you come within fifty feet of Ashley again, or look at her, or say anything to her, or try and breathe the same air as her, I promise that I will come and find you and fuck you up, and if you or anybody, doesn't matter who, touches her, I'll chop off your fingers. Think how stupid you'll look, doing up your zipper with your teeth for the rest of your life, and how will you ever jerk-off again? Do we have an understanding here, Bobby? He nodded fearfully, trying to look like he wasn't about to piss himself. Then I had an idea from a film I'd once seen, I think it was 'Goodfella's'.
"Give me your wallet, Bobby. Come on, hand it over!"
He lurched to his feet and passed over his wallet and I took out his driver's license, tossing his wallet back to him.
"OK Bobby, now I know where you live, I can come and find you anytime I like. Remember what I told you; if I turn up on your doorstep, it's because you did something to bring me there, so be very careful what you do, what you say, or where you go." Hollywood definitely has all the best lines...
He lunged at me, trying to grab his license back, and I dodged him, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and rammed his face a few times against the wall, not too hard, just enough to split his lip, abrade him enough to leave a nice reminder, and possibly knock a few teeth loose, then spun him around and tripped him back into that same pile of dogshit; as he lay there, the front of his designer jeans darkened; it really wasn't turning out to be his day. I stood over him and nudged him with my foot.
"That was stupid, and pointless, don't ever try that again!" I told him pleasantly. "Remember, now I know where you live, I can come and have a little chat with you any time I want, would you like that, Bobby?" I watched the colour drain from his face, and he shook his head vehemently, little weasel eyes darting around in fear.
"Good," I said, "Now we understand each other perfectly. We're communicating, isn't that nice. One more thing, you little maggot; never speak to or go near Ashley Lowry ever again, or any of her friends. That goes for you or any of your little maggot friends. If any of your pus-bag little boyfriends want to talk to me, send them over; when I've finished with them, I'll come and find you. I think we're going to be such close friends, Bobby, I'm looking forward to getting to know you really well. Oh, and remember, if you put your bastard's breath in my girl's face again, I'll cut your face off and use it to wipe my arse, you hear me? Anything happens to Ashley, anyone makes her unhappy, anyone says anything out of turn, it's going to be your fault, and I'm going to come and find you. She stays happy, you stay healthy, got that?" He nodded, thoroughly cowed. Good.
No, of course I wasn't going to hurt him; I wouldn't know how, I'm a mechanic, not a thug, and I'm certainly not my father; his response would have been to beat this boy into a body-cast, and for all that he was an obnoxious, stupid, spoiled little prick, he was still only a boy. No, my usual response to major confrontation is to run in the direction of 'away', sobbing like little Suzie. But he didn't know that; for a bluff, it worked pretty well, though, and now, Ashley had a protector, someone who thought their own survival depended on keeping everyone else off her back, forever. I love it when everything goes right for a change...
I went back into the restaurant, where Bobby's sidekick was still hunched over in his own private world of pain. I pulled him upright by the hair just in front of his ear, and he stared at me with wide, frightened eyes.
"Your boyfriend's lying down in the alleyway, go and pick him up, just be careful where you put your hands, he's covered in dogshit, and I think he's pissed himself. What I told him goes for you as well, so I don't ever want to see your face again, and neither do these ladies, understood?"
He quickly nodded, one step away from crying with fear, which was quite gratifying for me; I'd only ever been in three fights in my life, and I lost two of them...
I escorted him out, and sent him on his way with a ringing slap to the back of his head as a reminder, making him stumble as he walked away to retrieve Bobby.
I was getting the 'my hero' vibe from Ashley, and even Judy took my arm when we left, so I walked out of there pleased as Punch, with two pretty girls on my arm; if I'd grinned any wider the top half of my head would have fallen off!
As we walked back to the car, I asked Ashley what the story was with this Bobby character. She was reticent at first, but with Judy prompting her I finally got the basic story. After the rape, when she'd finally gone back to school, this Bobby creep had started pestering her, gradually getting more and more aggressive in his approach, making no bones about his intentions.
The fact that he was a low-forehead shambling idiot with the IQ of a bowling ball hadn't deterred him. Most of the girls in the school had been on the receiving end of his attentions at one time or another, his step-father's money shielding him from any major repercussions so far. Judy had once given him the knee, but Ashley had been a particular target of his, and he'd been at her constantly for two years now.
I was happy to reassure her that from now on she'd be free from his pestering; I'd done better than putting the fear of God in him; I'd put the fear of me in there; I was a lot nearer and much more immediate, so I was confident he'd keep well away from my girl from now on; and if he didn't, well, I might be tempted to take him somewhere remote and, in a spirit of educational endeavour, beat seven shades of shit out of him...
We went back to Judy's place, mother had asked us to be gone until lunchtime, so we had a couple of hours to kill, and Ashley wanted to talk, somewhere more private than a mall or coffee-sho
p.
When we got inside, Ashley got right to it.
"Nick, you said to mom that you wanted to marry me. How serious were you?"
I looked into her fabulous dark green eyes.
"Princess, I do want to marry you, but not until you're absolutely certain you want to marry me. I know I kind of got backed into a corner by mum when I said it, but it doesn't change the fact that I meant it when I said it. There's only one life I want; a life with you, when you're ready. And, as I never got the chance earlier, I'll ask you now. Ashley Lowry, will you marry me one day?"
Ashley sat silently looking into my eyes, her lips moving slightly as she replayed everything I'd said. Judy fidgeted for a few seconds then blurted out "Say yes, you dumb bitch, or I'm taking him!"
Ashley burst out laughing, and dropped into my lap, pulling me close to her as she kissed me soundly.
"Yes Nicholas Davis, I will marry you! And now, I think I'd like to stand up for a little, my bum's sore, I wonder why?" she inquired archly, one eyebrow raised in query.
Judy raised an eyebrow at her words, grinned, and then laughed .
"Ashley Lowry, I never knew you were such a slut! And with your own brother, too! I was only teasing you about what I had said earlier. You actually let him put that pogo-stick of his in your ass? Oh my God! You're braver than I thought, I mean...!"
Ashley looked at her loftily.
"I love him Judy. I would do anything Nicky asked as long as it didn't involve jail-time or folk-dancing! You should try it sometime..."
Judy grinned again, even wider this time. "What, folk-dancing? OK, but I'd have to kill myself afterwards! And as for the other thing, are you offering me Nick as a try-out? The answer's yes!"
Ashley snorted and smiled sweetly."Now who's the slut, Judy 'I am a huge tramp' Nixon!"
I listened to this byplay with amusement, and a certain amount of embarrassment
"Hello, ladies," I interjected, "just wanted to remind you, I'm still sat right here! Ashley, sweetheart, does it really hurt that bad? I'm sorry Princess, if I'd known...!"
Ashley smiled brightly at me, a great big, phony 'Flight-Attendant' smile.
"No Nicky, it didn't hurt one bit. But if you want to gain some perspective, sort of see things from my point of view, I could always borrow one of Judy's extensive range of truly frightening dildo's and use it on you so you can feel just what I'm feeling right now!"
I blushed, deeply.
"Ah, no thank you, darling, I think I'll pass, if it's all the same to you, and I'm sorry, Princess, we don't have to do it again if it makes you feel like this. I don't want to force anything on you, ever!"
Ashley came round behind me and leaned down to hug me.
"It did hurt just a little, Nicky, but it hurt so good, you know what I mean? We will be doing it again, I like the idea of you forcing things into me, just give me a couple days!" she murmured, and gently nipped my earlobe.
Once again, I grinned so wide all that was holding the top of my head on was my ears! I slipped my arm around her waist and held her close to me, resting my head against her midriff, listening to her heartbeat.
Judy on her bed and looked at me quizzically.
"So Nick, are there any more like you back in England, maybe one I can snag, or are you a one-off?" she asked, a slight smile playing around her lips.
I scratched my head.
"I have two half-brothers; Robert's almost four years younger than me, and Richard's a year younger than him, and you definitely don't want to get mixed-up with those two poisonous little twerps!" I told her, remembering their whining and their attitudes to people, so much like my father's.
"Oh really? Do tell!" she prompted, so I gave her the matinee version.
"Richard and Robert are Barbara's sons, but they're nothing like her; my father made them into younger versions of himself, and I truly believe Barbara had no time for them; I never saw them show or give her any affection or appreciation, or respect; it's like he used her to give him sons, then took them away from her, and I think that's how she felt. But she had me, and I had her, and that was enough for us both. Can we stop talking about this now, please?" I begged her, near tears again, and Judy's little face showed concerned sympathy as Ashley hugged me close, hearing the sadness and guilt in my voice again.
I buried my face in Ashley's midriff and mopped my eyes on her shirt, and Judy reached out and touched my knee.
"I'm sorry Nicky, I didn't think..." she whispered, while I wondered how long this hurt was going to keep pulling me down, how long it would be before I could think of her without turning into a quivering wreck; I wasn't indulging myself, wallowing in my guilt and loss, I was sure of that. Ashley had been on the right track; I just hadn't worked out a way to forgive myself yet, nor did I think I'd earned it, not yet.
I got myself back under control, and apologised to Judy for making her feel uncomfortable in her own home. She came over and hugged me where I sat and said "Nicky, it's OK to mourn, and it's OK to cry, you loved her, and it's only been a few days. Any time you need to cry for her, you should." I hugged her back and thanked her for being there for me as well.
Ashley decided at that point that it was more or less lunchtime, so we should be going, and Judy offered to drop us back. As we walked down the stairs I saw an Olde-English silver Bristol car pull into the driveway, and Dr. Nixon got out. He saw us and waved, and stood waiting for us by that stunning car.
"Hello Ashley, Nick, how are you feeling?" he asked. I told him I felt fine, and that I was free if he wanted to discuss last night at all, but he claimed he was too busy, and that he'd drop by later to check me over. I was only half listening to him; my attention was riveted on that beautiful hand-built aluminium-bodied car, and he noticed my rapt gaze.
"Like her, Nick? He asked me, and I could only nod. "Where did you find a 408 in America?"I asked him softly, my attention still fixed on the car, and he sounded impressed.
"You know what it is?" and I nodded; this car was an English classic and a schoolboy fantasy to drive, and I'd only ever seen one, in the National Motor Museum at Beaulieu Abbey in Hampshire, a mecca for motor-heads the world over.
"She's a 1964 Bristol 408 with the Chrysler of Canada 5.2 litre engine, they only made 83, and you've got one, oh my God!" was all I could say, "I can't believe you drive her around, what if she gets pranged? Is there anyone here who even knows how to shape aluminium body panels for her?"
Dr. Nixon grinned. "Nope, which is why I only drive her after the rush-hour is over; while the Range Rover's off the road, she's my only transport, and the only way I'll be seen in Judy's Prius is after I'm dead, so I have to go careful; I shudder to think what it would cost to fabricate duplicate body panels from scratch! I know about this marque and this model, so normally she only comes out when I can't resist her any more."
"I found her twenty years ago in a car lot in Raleigh, North Carolina, the bodywork and suspension were fine, but the engine and gearbox and torque converter were shot, and the interior was tattered; the dealer didn't know and didn't care what she was, which is why I was able to snap her up. It took me nearly ten years to put her back in shape, and there she is! Want to sit in her?"
I grinned and nodded, and he opened the door for me. The car was an import from England, so right-hand drive, and the sumptuous Connolly leather and beautifully restored and polished walnut interior was more like a gentleman's club than the interior of a car. In its day, this car, hand-built by craftsmen, had been competing with Rolls Royce and Bentley for quality, comfort and prestige, and it still showed; it oozed style and elegance.
I caught Ashley's expression, and eventually managed to tear myself away, reluctantly, and braced myself for questions about Ashley and myself, but none came, so I decided to make the first move.
"Dr. Nixon, I need to have a word with you, is there somewhere we can talk for a few minutes, please? Alone?
He looked at me and nodded, motioning me to follow him into the house while As
hley and Judy stood outside, whispering together as they leaned against Judy's despised Prius. When we got inside, Dr. Nixon motioned me to take a seat.
"So Nick, what can I do for you?" he asked.
"Dr. Nixon, Ashley says you know I'm her brother, well, half-brother. I expect you're wondering what kind of relationship we have?"
He looked at me for a moment, then leaned back in his seat and smiled slightly.
"Actually, no, I think I guessed after yesterday. What do you want me to say? That I disapprove? Speaking as a medical professional, of course I have an opinion, and that opinion is loaded against you. What you're doing is illegal, and by rights I should report you, but, as you've not stated outright what you're doing, technically I'm still unaware, let's leave it that way. My personal opinion is immaterial. However, there's the issue of children. The children of incest have a better than fair chance of inheriting recessive genetic traits that may well end up expressing themselves down through their own families."
"I can't in all honesty condone what you're doing, if only for the sake of the children you may have, and the burden you could conceivably impose on them. However, I think you're both old enough to understand what you're doing and it's not my place to offer opinion on what you do as consenting adults. My medical opinion you've just heard, anything else is not relevant."
I nodded, waiting for him to continue.
"Ashley looks to be happy, for the first time in a long time. I know what happened to her, Judy keeps me fully up-to-date, and my concern for her was always that she'd never really addressed what happened to her, or found an outlet to express her feelings about it. I do see a difference in her now, so perhaps now she's found that outlet in you, which is no bad thing."
"That you're half-siblings is always going to be a matter of concern, for the reasons I mentioned earlier, but that's for the two of you to resolve. I see far more bizarre and outlandish goings-on in some of the more...rural areas of the state, believe me! Your relationship hardly raises a tick on the Weird-O-Meter compared to what I've seen out in the wilds of this great state. I guess what I'm really saying is that your affairs are yours, it's not my place to judge, and I'm not going to."