by Bijou Hunter
I come wildly more than once. The sensation is too intense for me to keep count. He’s rougher than I’ve enjoyed before, but I know his powerful touch is a result of his need to claim me. We both need him to mark me.
Soon, we’re forced to part. Court plans to run a club errand before driving over to my place. Watching him go, I’m a juicy, rosy-cheeked, over-fucked mess, and that’s just the way I like it.
34 Black Sheep
Court
While driving out to the Rose Bend Trailers where Allen Mackey works, I still feel Justice on my cock. I taste her on my lips too. She’s more than a girlfriend now. She’s an obsession I can’t live without. She’s also someone I refuse to share.
While Allen isn’t a monster, he ain’t a saint either. I can think of a few people who’d have good reason to pay this man a visit, but I’m not sure I’m one of them. I only know I need to make clear to Allen where he falls in the big scheme of things.
Hiding in the lot, I wait until the next door neighbor’s barking dog draws Allen to me. Once he turns a corner, I shove his face against the side of a trailer. He gasps, begins babbling about how he doesn’t keep money at the shop, and says he won’t call the cops. I roll my eyes at the last part since everyone in Tumbling Rock suffers amnesia with the Sheriff’s Department’s phone number.
“Do you know how a man can live without his eyes?” I whisper in his ear while showing him my blade. “I can scoop them out and stomp on them, and you’d go on to live a long and happy life. Sure, it would take some getting used to, but I bet you’re smart enough to rebound real quick. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
“Not really.”
“Well it’s either scooping out your eyes or you choosing never to look at Justice Sheerer again. I don’t know how much I can trust you to keep your word with the second option.”
“I’ll stay away from her.”
“See, I want to believe you, but she’s a good looking woman, and you’re a single guy. You can’t help wanting to look,” I say, pressing the blade’s tip against his cheek.
“I won’t go anywhere she’s at. If I find out she’s where I am, I’ll leave.”
“Sounds like a lot of effort on your part. Wouldn’t it be easier for me to scoop out your eyes and save you all that hassle?”
“No, I’ll stay away from her,” he begs and then whimpers, “I promise.”
“Is your word good for anything? You’ve been married a few times, and I once heard you cheated customers at your store. Doesn’t seem like your word is worth much.”
“I won’t look again. I promise.”
Sighing, I lean my head against his back. “You sound real apologetic, and I want to believe you, but I don’t think I can trust you. Not where my woman’s involved.”
“I’ll never look at her again. I won’t talk to her or about her. I won’t go anywhere near her family. I swear on my mama’s life.”
“How much do you love your mama, though?”
“She’s a saint. I’m not lying.”
Trying not to laugh, I tap his cheek with the blade. “Well all right then. I could let you prove you’re an honest follow, but I suspect we both know I’ll eventually have to hunt you down and scoop out your eyes.”
“No, I’ll stay away. I’m sorry for looking at her. I didn’t know.”
“Now you do.”
When I allow him to turn around, Allen looks ready to cry. I’ve heard he yells at his girlfriends a lot. He doesn’t do anything physical, but he’s got a temper. I wonder if someone will pay for his current situation. Will he change his pants and find a woman to scream at? Now I consider if he’d be better off eyeless in the long run.
“I promise I won’t look at her again,” he says when I hold him by the throat for too long.
“I don’t want to hear about you yelling at women either.”
Allen opens his mouth to defend himself. I bet he’s heard this accusation plenty of times, and he’s got his speech down pat. Before he bullshits me, I smile at my knife, and he remembers how we aren’t buddies shooting the shit.
“I won’t. I promise.”
“On your mama’s life, right? I don’t want to have to go after some poor old woman if you don’t keep your word.”
“I’ll be good,” he says, sounding like a little kid.
“You do that. Now go change your pants and find a way to control your temper and wandering eye, Allen.”
He inches away slowly, and I watch him go. Our gazes remain locked until he disappears into his office. I wonder if he’s crying. Hell, just the thought of him sobbing and pissing himself again makes me smile. I didn’t even hurt the fucker, but he knows where he stands in the Tumbling Rock food chain.
Driving away, I imagine marrying Justice and spending the rest of my life threatening men who check out her assets. Sounds like heaven.
35 Black Sheep
Justice
Like many evenings, I find Christine in the porch‘s rocking chair. Hal sits nearby, snoring loudly. Journey left early to join Jared for dinner. I chose to stay home and wait for Court to arrive. Poppy says I’m officially whipped when I’ll give up a chance for a free meal. When I point out how Court also pays for my meals, she bows to my correction.
“How come we still haven’t seen Grandpa Zeb?” I ask, sitting in the chair next to hers.
“He doesn’t come into town often.”
“Does he know you’re back?”
“Probably.”
“Does it upset you that he hasn’t visited?”
“Not really,” she says. “He’s moodier than Coretta. I don’t need the stress.”
Rocking my chair, I hear Poppy flipping through channels inside the house. She’s been in a decent mood the last few days. I know she wants Felix to move into the house, so he isn’t around his queefing mother.
“Are you still happy we moved here?” I ask Christine.
“Yes. Of course.”
“Are you sure because you seem nervous a lot?”
“New things make me nervous. You don’t remember how I was when we moved to Indy, but I was tense all the time then too.”
“I guess. I worry about you.”
Christine smiles at me and reaches for my hand. “You’re sweet, Justice. I’m happy you’ve settled in here.”
As the failing sunlight shines on her face, my mother looks a little sad. “I’m sorry I ragged on you about Jared. I guess I could have handled that more maturely, but it never occurred to me at the time.”
“No, I’m sure it didn’t.”
“I love Dad,” I say, sounding stupid.
“I know you do. I love him too, but some people don’t click the way you and Court have.”
“Does it bother you to have Court and Felix here all the time?”
“Of course not. One of the problems in Indy was how alone we felt. It was us four, and not many other people stuck around in our lives. Here in Tumbling Rock, we have more people to love.”
“Court is more than I expected. Like when I first saw him, I just thought he was gorgeous. I never believed I’d fall so hard for him.”
“I know. You were silly in the beginning, but I see how you look at him now. Your father sees it too, and it scares the hell out of him. He wants you to have a better life than he thinks you’ll have with Court.”
“I don’t care what he thinks.”
“That’s not true.”
“It’s a little true.”
Christine and I share a smile. “Jared’s problem isn’t Court. It’s just how this town works and what he worries it’ll cost you. If he separates the club from you and Court, I know he’s happy about you two. He’s got a real soft spot for that boy.”
“I want you and Dad to be able to hang out like normal people do.”
“I know, but I can’t stop thinking of him as the husband I left behind. Even after all these years and being married to someone else. I just see Jared, and I’m right back to our life together. It’s my prob
lem, and I’m working on it.”
“I’m not good at advice.”
“That’s okay. I don’t need any. I know what I need to do. I’m just having trouble pulling the trigger.”
Nodding, I hear a Harley and wait to see if it’s Court. When the bike rolls past our property, I sigh.
“I don’t know how I should handle the Becca thing.”
“You just stay away from her.”
“I’m worried Felix won’t like me because his mom doesn’t.”
“If that happens, you’ll deal with it.”
“I’m worried that I’m not used to being worried, so I’m not doing it correctly.”
Christine grins. “Everything you’ve done with Court has worked out, right? Then why worry at all.”
“Thank you,” I say, standing up and kissing her on the head. “I wanted not to worry but felt like I was supposed to worry. Like that’s what a parent type of person does. So thank you for giving me permission to blow off those feelings.”
“You’re welcome,” Christine says and glances at the road. “I think this Harley belongs to Court.”
“How can you tell?”
“Once you hear enough of them, you’ll start to tell them apart.”
“I’m sorry you had crappy parents. I’d give you mine if I could.”
Christine laughs. “I clearly did an excellent job with you and your sisters.”
“So true. So very, very true.”
While my mother rolls her eyes, I wave at approaching Court. I can’t tell if Felix is with him until he parks. I see a set of smaller legs climb off the bike.
“Premature or not, they’re my family now,” I say, and Christine smiles full of motherly pride.
Court struts toward me with Felix shuffling close behind. The gawky kid and his hunky dad are such contrasts in these moments. I love them both and already have gumdrop dreams in my head about how we’ll live happily ever after together.
36 Black Sheep
Justice
Afternoons are slow at the Mart. Usually, my favorite employee, Ali, stands next to me, snapping her gum and talking about her kid’s latest antics. Apparently, two-year-old boys are a handful. I don’t know if I want to find out myself after hearing her latest story. What kind of kid bites a snake?
The store is quiet as usual while school is in session. We finished our busywork earlier, so we stand behind the counter and talk about her kid’s need to bite everything.
“He bites himself. Is that normal?”
“I don’t know. Have you asked a doctor? Aren’t they supposed to know stuff about kids?”
“I asked my mom, and she said all kids are weird and stupid. She says it’s my job to make him normal and smart. How do I convince him to stop biting everything?”
“Have you tried searching online for tips? The internet is a beautiful thing.”
Ali immediately takes out her phone, having assumed I was giving her permission to surf online at work. I decide to let her break our “no cells” rule since the Mart is empty. Besides, her kid needs help. He’s no doubt weird, though he doesn’t sound stupid at all. After all, he’s outwitted more than one adult in their attempt to make him stop biting.
I think about having a baby with Court. Would it be cute and obedient like Felix or an evil hellion like Poppy? At least, my sister was a wildly beautiful child. Her baby pictures make me look like a troll in comparison.
My thoughts switch to naming my un-created child. I don’t think it’ll be fair to give my kid a great name when Felix and his siblings have atrocious ones. No, I’ll need to torture my baby too. Of course, my child will be super cool so it’ll handle whatever moniker I choose.
“Isn’t that the bitch that beat you up?” Ali asks while I daydream.
I nearly miss her question because her gum-popping makes my brain numb. When I finally follow her pointing finger, I spot Becca heading for the front door. Exhaling roughly, I feel my shoulders sag.
What does the bitch want now? Why does she hassle me when I avoid her? I didn’t even get a single punch in during our fight. She won, and I lost, but she won’t stay the fuck away from me.
“Is she still into your man?” Ali asks before Becca enters.
“No, she’s just a troublemaker. If she freaks, I want you to run to the stockroom.”
“I can fight. I beat up my last boyfriend a lot.”
Frowning at Ali, I realize her kid’s weirdness might be genetic. I keep my mouth shut and put on a professional air while Becca enters.
“Hello, cunt,” Becca announces and then notices Ali. “My apologies. Hello, cunts.”
“Can I help you?” I calmly ask because I’m the fucking boss, and nothing fazes me.
Becca smiles at me and then walks to the revolving hot dogs. She opens the door, fishes out one frank after another, and throws them on the ground.
“Oops.”
Sighing, I step around the counter and walk to where she’s making a mess with the coffee.
“I’d like you to leave.”
“Or what, cunt?” Becca asks, laughing as she drops the coffee pot.
The shattering glass startles Ali, who says my name. I gesture for her to hurry to the stockroom.
“Your sister ain’t here to protect you,” Becca says, now throwing sandwiches across the store. “I guess you’re plum the fuck out of luck.”
“Your destruction is being recorded,” I say, pointing to one of the store’s camera. “I think you should leave.”
“Recorded for what? It’s not like you’ll call the cops. Idiot Court wouldn’t like that. Your shithole father wouldn’t either. No, I guess, you’ll have to deal with the reality of your crappy life, whore.”
I roll my eyes and follow her around the store while she dumps food and drinks. When I reach for a broom to clean up the chips strewn on the floor, Becca grabs for it.
“I’m going to beat the shit out of you with that, and you’re going to let me.”
A tugging match ensues with the broom. I’m almost certain I can win. Then her foot moves from its spot on the floor to nailing me in the gut. Those kind of fast moves look very cool in the movies, but I’m not a fan of them in real life.
Falling on my ass, I look up to find Becca holding the broom over me. I think to scramble to the stockroom, but I can’t leave her alone in the store. She’s a menace, and I’m the manager. I can’t flee. I can’t fight. What in the queef other options do I have?
Then she hits me over the head with the flat end of the broom, and I remember something important.
I grew up in Indianapolis where we called the police when assholes attacked us. That’s how I was raised. Not like this bizarre crap in Tumbling Rock. Fuck Becca, the club, and this town’s rules. I’m calling the damn cops.
Grabbing a can of peanuts, I throw them at Becca and miss badly. She’s still startled when I do anything besides cower. While she hesitates, I hurry behind the counter and hit the 911 button no one has used in five years.
I also pull out my cell phone and dial the police. Becca throws a 2 liter Mountain Dew bottle at me, and her aim is better than mine. I barely duck before the drink slams into the wall behind me, shattering and sending sticky soda on my head.
“What’s your emergency?” asks a bored operator.
“Becca Wilmore is trashing the Rite-Rock Mart in Tumbling Rock, and she’s assaulting the manager, me, Justice Sheerer. I’d like police assistance.”
“You cunt!” Becca hollers.
“Ma’am, we have police response on their way.”
I hear the operator’s words, but I’m too busy dodging Becca’s violent onslaught to response. By the time she hurls Twinkies at me; I hear sirens and wonder how the cops arrived so quickly. Their station is miles away in Rockport, but I guess it doesn’t matter. Becca hears the sirens and bolts for the door. If she had run earlier, she might have evaded the sheriff deputies rather than running directly out to them.
I’ll hand it to Becca. Un
like a lot of bullies, she’s willing to fight people twice her size. I watch from the trashed store while she kicks the cops and tries to steal their batons.
Ali creeps out of the stockroom and joins me at the window.
“What a bitch,” she says, glancing around the store and then back at a still struggling Becca. “Who called the cops?”
“I did, and I’m pressing charges.”
I don’t need to see Ali’s expression to know she thinks I’m nuts. Sighing, I can’t get over how bizarre the citizens of Tumbling Rock behave toward the police. The two uniformed gentlemen in the parking lot are doing a professional job against an obviously deranged woman. Becca’s lucky Journey isn’t around to beat the shit out of her. The cops, though, let her wear herself out for the most part before cuffing her. They eventually shove her into the backseat of a patrol car.
Once she’s under control, the deputies turn their attentions to me. Unwilling to relent to the town’s no-cops rule, I give a full statement, hand over security tapes, and even go to the hospital to have the lump on my head checked out.
If the only way for Becca to go away is for me to put her in prison myself, then she’ll rue the day she met Justice Sheerer.
37 Black Sheep
Court
My mom always said regrets were the worst feeling in the world. I knew she had many, and they killed her as much as the cancer did. My life isn’t complicated, and I’ve never suffered many doubts about my decisions. I couldn’t even regret hooking up with Becca because I’d be wishing Felix didn’t exist. No, I managed to go a long time without regretting much.
Today, I regret my inability to kill Becca.
Justice is more pissed than hurt. When I arrive at her house, she’s pacing around the living room, dodging cats and blowing her bangs out of her eyes.
Our gazes meet, and she knows I want her to drop the charges. Well, not want, but need her to drop them. The club hates the law, and my woman just invited them into our town.
Reading my mind, Justice blurts out, “I can either kill her or press charges. Since I’m not a killer, I’m left with using the courts.”