by Bijou Hunter
“Serves you right,” Coretta says to me. “Everyone knows no one calls the law around here. You’re making the whole family look bad.”
“Will you please shut the fuck up?” Christine hollers, making me flinch.
Coretta stands up faster than an old woman should be able. Facing her daughter, my grumpy grandma presses her hands on her slender hips.
“What did you say?”
“Don’t pull the deaf elderly crap with me. I know you hear just fine.”
“Well, I didn’t come here to be insulted.”
“No, you came here to be insulting.”
“That big city living sure gave you a big mouth.”
“Well living in a small town sure hasn’t taught you any manners.”
“You’re just like your father. He’s a loud-mouthed know-it-all too.”
“Get out!” Christine yells, sending Hal into a barking fit.
“I’m not going anywhere. I drove all the way over here, and I need to rest.” Coretta sits back down. “You can bring me a glass of water.”
“You live five minutes away.”
“Get me a glass of water, Christine Bay Earlham.”
Hal barks again, and I realize he’s at the door. Rolling off the couch, I walk to the window and find a strange car parked next to Coretta’s.
“What now?” I mutter, opening the door.
Journey joins me on the porch where we frown at Jared climbing out of an ancient sedan.
“Nice car, Pops,” I say as he opens the back door.
Felix appears from the front passenger side. Jared moves aside after a minute, and Matilda slides out of the car.
“Hi, Journey,” Otto yells from next to his brother.
“Your fan club president has arrived,” I tell my sister as we watch the approaching children.
Based on Felix’s expression, he has no idea what happened earlier. I hug him to me and inhale his pre-teen smell. Smiling, I realize he wears the same cologne as Court.
“Is Dad here?” Felix asks, and I nearly start bawling.
Shaking my head, I say nothing because crying isn’t acceptable in front of happy children. Besides, Coretta would probably love to see me miserable.
“Grandma’s here,” Journey announces.
Jared nods until his brain catches up to how we’re not talking about his dead mother. Frowning, he sighs and looks back at the car as if planning his escape.
“Don’t even think about it,” I growl, taking him by the arm. “After my long day, I need people to be nice to me.”
“I don’t know if you heard,” Journey tells him, “but Justice had to run really fast.”
“It was awful,” I whine.
Jared smiles and runs a hand through his thick hair. “If things turn sour, we’ll use one of these kiddos as a shield.”
Coretta endures the full house for a total of ten minutes before deciding torturing Christine isn’t worth dealing with the noise. I watch her drive away and catch my mom doing the same at another window. Our gazes meet, and she walks over to me for a hug.
“Court will be back soon,” Christine says, stroking my head.
“Promise?”
“He just will. No need to promise. Things work out for us. Look at how your grandma showed up and then the cavalry arrived. Everything works out, so Court will be back soon.”
Hugging her tighter, I force lots of happy thoughts into my brain. I imagine Court returning to find his son safe with me. He’ll kiss me and hold me and keep me safe. Tonight, we’ll roll around and create a little girl who I’ll give a horrible name. Or we’ll have a son and name him something equally horrible. Either way, Court and I will be together and have a future and nothing bad will ever happen again.
42 Black Sheep
Court
Brandon and Bryce are two of Becca’s high school fuck buddies. She cheated on them with me, though she claims it was the other way around. Whatever the truth, they always watch her back. Becca is a fun lay and used to hook them up with easy jobs. I wonder what she offered them to grab Justice.
The brothers live in an abandoned house off of the highway where Justice ditched them. I park my Harley some distance away and walk the rest of the way to their place.
I reach their house before dusk and peer through the window to find them stoned. The TV is on, but the reception is so bad I can’t tell what they’re watching. I’m not even sure how they have power out here, but they’re likely hooked up to the closest neighbor’s lines.
Walking around the back of the house, I expect a trap or two, but the brothers don’t seem worried about retaliation. It’s possible they don’t know enough about Justice to understand her connection to the club and me. Does gossip not find them out here?
Whatever the reason, I quickly walk into the house using the back door. I brought a few weapons but notice a tool box resting on a filthy kitchen counter. The name on the side of the box reads “Horace Beckman.” I remember the old man mentioning someone snagged his tools when he was on a lunch break.
I take two screwdrivers from the box and stuff one in my pocket. Walking soundless through the kitchen to the decaying living room, I stand behind Bryce’s chair. He barely notices my hand around his jaw before I lean back his head and jam the screwdriver through his left eye. His right eye stares at me long after he’s gone. I study him and feel nothing. Not a damn thing. Not even relief at knowing he’s dead.
Brandon sits two feet from his dead brother without noticing. Stroking his goatee, he’s also playing with his limp dick. I yank down the chair, and he grunts as the seat back hits the floor.
“Hey, Court,” he says as clueless as the day he was born.
I remain silent before shoving the second screwdriver up through his jaw until only the handle remains visible. Brandon never looks shocked or pained. He’s dead before he even notices.
Removing the weapons, I take them to the sink where I wash them with bleach from my bag. I pour more of the liquid on the men’s faces. Though I consider burning the house to the ground, these woods are dense, and the growth is dry. A fire would likely spread to the neighboring houses.
Rather than burying their bodies, I decide to leave them to rot in their current positions. I doubt anyone will report them missing for weeks. Hell, I’d forgotten they’d existed until Justice described her attackers. The only person who might notice their absence was Becca sitting in her jail cell, and she was in no position to open her mouth.
Their deaths prove unsatisfying, but I probably should have expected as much. Something turns off inside me when I’m violent. I can never muster up pity or fear. I’m a shell when I kill, and that part scares me when I’m not killing. How can I be a good father and treat Justice right when I have a dead part inside me?
I drop off Beckman’s tools near his house and destroy my gloves in a small fire in an empty parking lot. With nothing left to clean up, I return to Justice. My mind is still on whether I can truly love her when I’m capable of killing so effortlessly.
Arriving at Justice’s house, I feel emptied out and afraid I might be this way forever. Until now, I’d never considered whether the dead part might turn one on one day and never turn back off.
I hear voices coming from the back of the house. Walking around the side, I catch sight of Poppy and Felix throwing a Frisbee. Nearby, Journey talks with Otto in her garage gym. At the porch, Justice squats down next to Matilda while they shoot flowers with a water pistol.
“Did you know I knew your mom in high school?” Christine asks, coming up behind me.
I shake my head as my mind floods with memories of my mom. Usually, her worn down face and sad eyes force me to push away thoughts of her.
“We weren’t friends or anything,” Christine says, throwing a ball for Hal. “Even in a small school, people had their little groups, and I was a lame freshman when your mom was already a senior. I did see her in passing most days, and that chick sure knew how to rock out a pair of skinny jeans.”
Smiling, I let myself remember Mom even with all of the unhappiness in her later years.
“She never got lucky in her life,” I admit. “I’m sometimes relieved Felix never got to know her. He already has one miserable grandmother. I don’t want him thinking life has to end up so fucked.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, patting my arm. “I know how it can feel like your family’s fate is genetic and you can’t break free of it. My parents were poor and rude. Their parents were the same way. My grandmother once punched a church pastor for admitting he didn’t like her pie. They think if they don’t scream their opinions in people’s faces that they’re selling out. I grew up wanting to be different, but everyone is the same when you’re stuck in a small town. That’s why I’m glad the girls lived in a bigger city and saw how different people can be.”
“I can’t take Felix somewhere else.”
“You don’t need to because you aren’t your parents. Felix won’t be like you because he has a father willing to support his big dreams. Just help him know it’s okay to be different. That’s what I wish my mom and dad did for me. They didn’t have to change, but I wanted to know it was okay for me to change. Women like your mom never had anyone in their corners, but Felix has you. He has Justice now too.”
“Justice isn’t like anyone I’ve ever met,” I say, sounding too damn young and tired.
“She isn’t like anyone I’ve ever met either. Every time I thought I had a handle on my mouthy daughters, I’d make another one, and she’d have an even bigger mouth.”
“Felix is a sweet kid,” I say, watching my smiling son. “I don’t know how he survives in this world being a nice guy.”
“You’re nice.”
“No, I’m really not. I just don’t wear my asshole on my sleeve.”
“You’re nice enough,” she says, nudging me. “Justice wouldn’t put up with a man pushing her around. She doesn’t want weakness either. You’ve got the right amount of asshole to make her happy.”
Sharing a smile with Christine, I notice Justice hurrying toward me. She’s nervous, and anxiety is an odd look on her beautiful face.
“Are you okay?” she instantly asks.
“I’ll take Matilda,” Christine says, though I sense the little girl would rather stay with Justice.
Once we’re alone, I hold Justice’s hands and stare into her worried eyes.
“I love you,” I say when I can’t think of any other words.
“Does that mean you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Don’t I look okay?”
Justice sizes me up and shrugs. “You’ve looked better.”
Pressing her against my chest, I caress her head with my lips. “I don’t know if I can be everything you need, Justice, but I’m in this for the long haul. You and I make sense, and I need you to be my old lady.”
Justice wiggles free and stares at me. “Are you saying this because you’re in a freaky mood or because you know I’m the best chick you’ll ever have?”
“Both.”
“I love you too, and I know you have your secrets. While I’ll probably give you grief about them occasionally, I just need you to be with me.”
“So yes?”
“Of course, yes. I’m too savvy to say no to such a catch.”
“That you are,” I say, cupping her face and kissing her inappropriately long considering we have an audience.
Justice licks her lips and studies me. She knows where I’ve been and what I’ve done. Her smile tells me she’ll pretend to be okay with it even if she isn’t.
“That’s how love works,” she explains later without me asking.
Love never felt like enough before. Love didn’t heal my mother. Even with Felix, I couldn’t give him everything he needed. With my hands tied with Becca, I felt like a shitty father most days.
Meeting Justice has been like finding a four-leaf clover. My luck just keeps getting better, and now she’s agreed to make our love official.
43 Black Sheep
Justice
Becca never caught onto the concept of cause and effect. I hear from people following the case how Becca regularly screams obscenities at the judge and prosecutor. She even threatens the jury. Her court-appointed attorney asks to be replaced because she won’t listen to him. Becca picks this moment to call him a baby fucker.
By the time I testify, she’s dug a very deep grave for herself. The charges from the store vandalism and my assault are nothing compared to the cops who testified she tried to go Mike Tyson on their ears. One of the deputies apparently became teary-eyed when talking about the assault.
The entire thing would be comical except I desperately need her to go away for a long time and leave my family and me alone. My dream is for Becca to stay gone until Felix is eighteen and can break free of her.
My big mouth behaves during my testimony. No snark even when the public defender implies I caused this trouble as a way to separate Becca from her doting child. Every time Becca rolls her eyes during my testimony, I refuse to react. Instead, I remain focused on the big picture and allow Becca’s actions to ruin her future.
Despite the video and deputies’ testimony, somehow Becca is utterly shocked when she’s found guilty. They drag her from the courtroom while she threatens everyone from the judge to the little old lady typing the transcript.
Watching the bailiffs fighting with the screaming woman, I realize why Becca won’t behave enough to get an easier sentence. She’s a feral animal, having run loose all of her life. Now she’s caged, and her instincts are to fight everything and everyone. She’s too primal to realize every time she attacks someone that she only adds to how long she’ll be locked up. Her only thought is striking out at all perceived threats.
Becca ends up sentenced to a total of fifteen years, though she’ll likely get out in half the time with good behavior. No doubt several years will pass before her feral ways are diluted enough for her to follow the rules. Maybe one day, she’ll get her shit together, or someone will give her a pill that fixes her rage. It’s possible she might even try to fix what she broke all of these years with her children.
I’ll never truly know how someone like Becca functions, but the feral animal analogy does help me forgive her. I don’t want to waste time hating anyone. My life is first-rate, and I want to focus on happiness rather than her.
After her sentencing, Court and I return home where Becca’s three kids play outside with Poppy and Hal. They’ll probably miss their mom at times. For right now, they’re free.
“When we met, I knew you were the best kind of trouble,” Court says as we stand on the back porch and watch the kids.
“I wish I could say I thought that deeply about you when we met. I was only focused on your incredible good looks.”
“Who could blame you?”
Kissing him, I sense a weight lifted off his shoulders. My decision to break the town’s no-cops rule eliminated a festering problem hanging over him for too long. I feel magical to have given him this chance at a new beginning, and I didn’t even have to stalk him to make it happen.
44 Black Sheep
Court
At our wedding, Justice manages to make a sleeveless, ankle-length flannel dress look sexy. Journey gets ordained online and marries us in the backyard of the Earlham house. Jared and Christine walk Justice down the aisle while Poppy wears flannel as the maid of honor. The entire event feels like something only these women could pull off.
I don’t care where we get married or who is invited. I only want Justice to say “I do” before she comes to her senses.
Felix is my best man. Chucky wants the job, but I knew he wouldn’t manage to arrive on time, and I’m not wrong. He and Basil arrive for the reception where Poppy informs them they must eat at the kiddies table as a punishment. I think to save them from the horror, but they actually enjoy goofing around with the kids.
Donovan chooses not to come to the wedding, leaving me without family in attendance.
While the club brothers throw me a stripper-filled bachelor party, they won’t watch me exchange vows with a snitch. I’m pissed at how Justice solved their problem, yet they’re still being assholes toward her. My bride-to-be reminds me how my club brothers are super frigging old and set in their ways. She also mentions how they’ll be dead soon, so I shouldn’t hold a grudge. She finishes off her pep talk by saying, “Besides, I don’t want a bunch of bikers eating all of the food at my reception.”
The ceremony is kept small. Danny and Kayleen attend, but Coretta refuses. She’s still angry at Christine for standing up to her. Justice, of course, considers her grandmother’s boycott as a gift to us.
I watch Justice all day long and wonder how she stumbled into my life. Not so long ago I was sleepwalking through my life. I had Felix, but a part of me even held back with him. When my club brothers only bitched about our failing fortunes, I said nothing. Every time Becca started trouble, I prayed for a magical fix for her crap.
And hell if my prayer didn’t come true in the form of a woman with a motor mouth and confidence spare.
Epilogue
Justice
The six months after Court and I get married fly by in a flash of big plans and hot sex. Even before the wedding, we start the building process for a one-story house behind Christine’s. I’m a beast about the budget after having been raised to think of debt is a no-no. So we don’t go extravagant but keep our design simple with three bedrooms. Who knew they’d fill up so quickly?
Matilda joins our family rather innocently. Once Felix is in Court’s custody, his siblings see him a lot less, so we begin inviting them over often. First, they stay for a few hours. Soon, they spend the night.
Otto never has much interest in Court or me, but he follows Journey around everywhere. Matilda is a mama’s girl and attaches herself to me. Soon, I feel as if sending her back to Astrid is a punishment.
By the time the house is ready, I’ve fallen in love with the clingy little chick. So we move her into the third bedroom next door to Felix. Otto ends up in my old bedroom at Christine’s house. Astrid still watches them during the day when they aren’t in school, and legally, she remains the younger children’s guardian. Still, she knows they need a family, and we know she needs a break.