Five Mountain Daddies

by B. B. Hamel

  More than that, I want to be around her. She makes me laugh, makes me smile, makes me feel good. She’s smart and funny and real, a genuine person, good to the core. Despite all the shit that’s happened to her, she’s still strong and optimistic, and that’s the best trait imaginable.

  “Who was that?” she asks.

  “Nobody.” I sit down at the end of the bed. I can tell she knows I’m lying, but she doesn’t push.

  “What are we doing today?” she asks.

  “I was thinking…” I grab the remote and turn the TV off. “Let’s go find your mom.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “What if my mom doesn’t want to be found?”

  “We’ll do it anyway.”

  She hesitates. “I’ve tried this before. Didn’t end well.”

  “You didn’t have me before.”

  “True.” She can’t help but smile. “Where have you been all my life?”

  “Here for most of it.” I grin back at her. “Remember that?”

  “I remember,” she says softly. “You know, I had such a crush on you.”

  “I can’t blame you. I mean, I am awesome.”

  She laughs and pushes me, and I pull her over toward me. I kiss her softly and she looks up at me with that same expression, and suddenly I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do. The idea of leaving her drives me insane, but I’d lose my job if I stay. I have nothing here, no reason to stay.

  “Come on,” I say. “Let’s drag your mom out of whatever hole she’s dug for herself.”

  Cora sighs. “Fine. I think I know where she is, too.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you say so?”

  “Because I didn’t want to go after her. She’s… unpleasant when she’s on a bender.”

  I stand up and flex a little. “I’ll make her be pleasant, or else.”

  She laughs and gets out of bed. “My hero.” She kisses me on the cheek and we head out together, holding hands.

  * * *

  We stop at three bars before we finally find her mom’s car. It’s parked behind this beat-up place called the Irish Rover. It looks like it was probably nice thirty years ago, but neglect has really let it go to seed. There are two other cars in the parking lot, and I’m guessing this is the only bar in the area willing to serve her this early.

  “You sure you want to do this?” Cora asks me.

  “I’m sure. Come on, we have to help her.”

  Cora sighs, but doesn’t argue. We climb out of my car and head over toward the bar.

  I go in first. The inside is dimly lit and is supposed to look like an Irish pub, but really it just looks like a sad and lonely shrine to drinking. The floors are sticky, everything is old and grungy, and a few older regulars are stacked up at the bar, heads down, not talking much to each other.

  Cora’s mom is sitting at the end of the bar, leaning in toward an older man with a thick beard. He’s talking and she’s got this smile on her face that basically telegraphs her desire to get fucked sideways. The guy seems oblivious though, and as we get closer, I realize that he’s talking about motorcycles.

  Cora’s mom looks up as we approach, and her whole demeanor changes. The guy doesn’t notice this, either. Cora stays behind me as we approach.

  “What are you doing here?” she snaps. “Got some more gang members looking to kill me?”

  The bearded guy looks up, surprised. He mumbles something and gets up, walking away from the conversation. That doesn’t surprise me. The guy probably survives by avoiding confrontation, and he can probably smell the fight coming in the air.

  “I’m sorry that happened,” I say to her. “I couldn’t have known.”

  “No? I think you’re a damn liar.”

  “Mom,” Cora says, stepping up beside me. “It’s true. He was almost killed, just like us.”

  “I don’t believe you. Girl, I can see how obsessed you are with him, don’t you see it? He’s got you wrapped around his fingers.”

  Cora shrinks back from her mother, but I won’t let her bully me. “Mrs. Lewis, please,” I say.

  “Call me fucking Salina, okay?” she says to me. “You’re a grown man, out getting folks killed.”

  “Nobody got killed,” I say softly. “All thanks to you.”

  She scoffs at that. “Just hit the fucker and ran away. I didn’t save anyone.”

  “Mom, you saved me,” Cora says. “If you hadn’t done that, Jaxson would have killed me.”

  “It was brave, Salina,” I say.

  “Fuck brave.” She swallows her wine in a single gulp. “I don’t need fucking brave.”

  “Doesn’t matter. When the time came, you did what you had to do,” I tell her seriously.

  “And then I ran.” She meets my gaze. I can tell she’s a little drunk, but not so drunk that she doesn’t know what she’s saying. “I hit that guy and I ran, leaving my daughter behind.”

  It shouldn’t surprise me, but the pain in her voice digs down deep. Cora steps closer to her. “Mom, it’s okay,” she says.

  “It’s not okay. I’m a failure. Don’t you see that? I’m a drunk and I almost left my baby to die.” She looks down at the bar. “You’re all I got left, Cora.”

  “Mom.” She walks over to her mother and wraps her arms around her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  I leave them like that. I move halfway down the bar, giving them some space, and order a soda. One of the locals gives me a toothy smile but I don’t smile back, and that ends the potential conversation.

  Looks like Cora completely misunderstood her mother. She probably assumed that her mother was just going to get angry at us for trying to pull her out of her drinking, but that’s not even it. Her mother was ashamed for running that day, for leaving Cora behind, but she doesn’t need to be. She saved Cora’s life, and although she didn’t stay behind, she still did something hard. I don’t blame her one bit for running. Your mind doesn’t work right when it’s under stress like that, and it takes real training to be able to keep yourself cool in a life-threatening situation.

  After a little while, and halfway through my soda, Cora comes walking over. “I think she’s ready,” she says.

  “Good.” I smile at her. “You did a good job.”

  “It wasn’t like the other times,” she says softly. “I think… I think she actually wants to get better. I mean, she has nothing left.”

  “We can help her.” I stand up. “Did you research any meetings?”

  She nods. “There’s one tonight.”

  “Good. Let’s get her home, get her some sleep, and then make sure she goes.”

  Cora takes my hand and squeezes it. “You’re good to me, you know?”

  I shake my head. “Just doing what anyone would do.”

  “No, really. I know you should have gone back home by now.” I go to say something, but she talks over me. “I know you’re leaving eventually. I’m just happy you’ve been here for as long as you have… for helping me the way you did…”

  I pull her close against me and kiss her softly. I don’t say anything, because there’s nothing to say. We both know I have to go, and that’s the worst thing about all this.

  I pay for Cora’s mom’s drinks, and the three of us leave. Cora sits in the back seat of the car with her mom, and the two of them talk softly while I drive back to her mom’s place. We’ll get her to sleep and hopefully get her to an AA meeting as soon as possible.

  After that, my mission here is over. I’ll have nothing holding me here, nothing that I’m trying to solve or fix. There will only be Cora, and I’m afraid of what that means. If I decide to stay, I’ll be admitting something to myself, something that I didn’t know I could admit.

  I’ll be admitting that I’m not the Lovemaker anymore, that I’m not just out to fuck and have a good time. I’ll be admitting that I want something serious, something serious enough that I’d sacrifice for it.

  That’s what scares me the most. If I want Cora enough to sacrifice, that means
she’ll have the power to hurt me. I don’t know if this relationship is just a product of the stress of our situation, and if it’ll survive beyond this. But then again, I know her from way before any of this happened, back when we were kids. And even back then, I knew she was special. Atticus kept everyone away from his younger sister, but we all saw her. We all knew her.

  I knew her best of all, and I wanted her most of all. I just don’t know if that’s going to be enough to get us past everything, or if we’re just doomed to fail.

  26

  Cora

  For the first time in her life, my mother goes to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Wyatt and I drive her there and drop her off, making sure she goes inside. Wyatt parks the car in the far corner of the church’s lot, and soon we’re alone, lit only by the moon rising slowly in the sky.

  “She’ll be okay,” Wyatt says to me.

  “I know.” I take a breath and slowly let it out. The meeting is in the basement of a church we used to come to when I was younger. I doubt my mom’s been here in a long time, and I hope she’s doing okay in there.

  “Just admitting she has a problem is a great first step.”

  “I know.” I glance out the window and I don’t say anything more.

  A few minutes pass in silence. I don’t know why I’m being so distant. Wyatt has done so much for me in such a short time, and our relationship has grown so quickly that it’s almost scary. If he were anyone else, I would assume that this thing we have between us is just so intense because of what was happening… but I don’t think that’s it.

  There’s always been something between us, even back when we were younger, although I don’t think we understood it back then. He’s a few years older than I am, so that’s been keeping him away, but now we’re finally equals.

  I know he has to leave. I just hate myself for getting so attached to him. He never said he was staying, never once said he’d come live with me in Mason. I must have had this stupid delusion where I thought we could live happily ever after… but I know that’s a lie.

  “When are you leaving?” I ask him, breaking the silence. I look over toward him and he has this pained expression on his face.

  “I should be back at work by Tuesday,” he says. “So, Monday night at the latest.”

  I nod. That doesn’t give us much time. “You don’t have to stay that long,” I say to him, although I hate myself for it. “You can go whenever you want.”

  “I know that,” he says. He reaches toward me, but I flinch away.

  “Don’t,” I say.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Touch you?” He stares at me. “It’s the only thing I want to do right now. Don’t you get that?”

  I stare right back at him, and suddenly it all hits me. The immensity of everything comes crashing down, rolling over me in waves. He pulls me toward him and this time, I let him kiss me, because I know how badly I need it.

  And I know he needs it too. We kiss long and slow like that until he pushes his seat back and pulls me across the car, pulling me in his lap. I grind my hips down against him, feeling him and needing it, as his hands slowly explore up my top.

  The car starts to steam pretty quickly. I reach down and unbutton his jeans, sliding a hand down his boxer briefs to find his cock already hard. We shuffle his jeans down as he unbuttons mine. We’re cramped and awkward but neither of us care, we’re both in a frenzy, both desperate to feel what we know is real between us.

  He kisses me again as he finally gets my jeans down. He pushes my panties aside and slides two fingers deep into me, making me gasp. He pulls my hair back and kisses my neck.

  “This is impossible,” he says softly. “You know that?”

  “What is?” I groan.

  “This, right here. We haven’t seen each other for years and yet Atticus somehow brings us together.”

  I groan as he plunges his fingers deeper. “Only good thing Atticus ever did,” I say.

  “He did other good things, but you’re right. This might be the best.” He tips my chin toward him and bites my lower lip.

  I groan, grinding down along his fingers. He slides his hand away and pulls my hips forward, rubbing his cock against my slick pussy.

  I push my hips forward and down, letting him slide right inside of me, pushing me open, pulling me apart. I groan, wrapping my arms around his neck as he cups my ass with both hands, my panties shoved aside.

  I start to ride him, mouth against his. We’re both panting, and I’m moaning into his mouth, and I’m completely lost. I don’t know how this happened, how impossible this must seem on the outside, but I just don’t care. When he’s near me, hell, when he’s inside of me, I can’t think of anything but him. He’s the only thing that makes any sense to me. I grind along him harder, letting him fuck me as I ride him, letting him slap my ass, pull my hair.

  The car fogs up completely. We’re fucking in a church parking lot, and my mom’s down inside there, in a basement AA meeting, but I just don’t care how inappropriate this is. I grind and I ride, and he fucks me in return, his thick cock tearing me to pieces.

  It feels so fucking good. He slaps my ass, palming it, squeezing. He kisses me and bites my lip again, pushing me down by the shoulders, fucking me rough. I feel like an animal rutting, and it’s what I want, what I need. He takes me beyond myself, fucks the hell out of me, pushes me to new heights.

  I grind and I ride, groaning his name over and over. He pulls me against him and spreads my ass out as he thrusts.

  “How am I supposed to leave this?” he asks, slapping my ass. “You think I want to let this go? Fuck, girl, you’re so fucking tasty, so goddamn delicious, your pussy drives me insane.” He slams himself into me.

  My moans are impossible to stop. I don’t care what’s happening around us, to me the world is just his cock, sliding in and out of my pussy. He kisses my lips, lets my tongue into his mouth, drives me crazy. We don’t have much room for experimentation but it doesn’t matter. It’s quick and it’s dirty, and I can feel the orgasm coming already.

  “I want to feel it,” I groan to him. “I need to feel it, Wyatt.”

  “Feel it,” he whispers. “Just let go.”

  I toss my head back as he keeps fucking me as I come. I think I hit the horn at least once, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, and soon I feel the hot mess of him filling me up with his own cum.

  We groan together, sweating and warm and finally, when it’s over, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me tight against him. We dress each other slowly, almost tenderly, and although there’s an apocalyptic feeling to this, I can’t stop smiling. The outside world is gone, fogged away by our own warmth and breath and fucking, and now it’s just the two of us together, alone in this car.

  Fully dressed, I stay curled up in his lap, and he holds me like that. Slowly, the world returns to us. We don’t talk much, and we don’t have to. I just want to feel him close to me, feel his breath against my neck. Eventually, the fog clears, and I know it’s time.

  I climb out of his lap, and I don’t meet his gaze. People are spilling out of the church, and I spot my mom coming.

  “Cora,” he says softly.

  I smile at him, trying not to cry. “Later, okay?” I say.

  He nods once. “Okay.”

  My mom shows up a couple minutes later, and I spend the rest of the car ride, and the night back at her place, talking with her about her sobriety. There’s a lot to work out there, but I’ll try to help her. Wyatt doesn’t stay, he goes back to the motel, and although I knew he would, it still hurts. I want him to stay.

  But I know he can’t, and he won’t.

  27

  Wyatt

  My phone rings around seven in the morning. It pulls me from sleep, and for a second, I reach over to touch Cora. I grunt when I realize that she’s not there before I roll over and grab the phone.

  “Yeah?” I say, answering it.

>   “Wyatt, it’s Mitch.”

  That perks me up. “Hey, man,” I say. “You caught me sleeping.”

  “Sorry, I know it’s early. I just thought you’d want to know.”

  I suddenly feel nervous. This is the call I’ve been expecting. “What’s up?”

  “We got a judge and both Kristi and Jaxson were indicted for Atticus’s murder. Obviously it’s early days, but we’re already talking plea deals.”

  I get out of bed, taking in this information. I put the phone on speaker and push the curtains open, letting light wash across my face. “What kind of deal?”

  “In exchange for info on his gang, we’ll probably give him twenty-five to life,” Mitch says.

  “Doesn’t sound like a good deal.”

  “Better than death penalty. We’ll leave in the chance for parole after twenty-five years.”

  I sigh and turn away from the window. I wish Cora were here, so we could talk about this. “Okay,” I say, letting out a breath. “What about the girl?”

  “Kristi?” He chuckles. “She’s been… tough.”

  “How so?”

  “Less cooperative. They had to restrain her yesterday, apparently.”

  “Really? I gotta admit, I’m surprised. I thought Jaxson would be the fighter.”

  “Nope,” Mitch says, chuckling. “He gave up pretty fast. Kristi though, she’s not talking.”

  “What’s her sentence look like?”

  “Up in the air right now. Depends on how much she tries to pin it on Jaxson, but so far she hasn’t said much.”

  “Maybe she’s not as stupid as she seems,” I say.

  “She did ask for a lawyer so, you know.”

  I laugh a little. “Well, hopefully she gets a bad one.”

  “Truth is, Wyatt, I doubt she’ll go to jail forever. But she sure is looking at a long, long time behind bars.”

  “Good. Bitch killed my friend.” I’m surprised at how angry I sound.