Salvaging Max

by SH Richardson

  Range tried to be the voice of reason. We were all armed and bloodied; the last thing we needed was for the cops to show up and search us. Too bad Sebastian didn’t see it that way. The moment that shit stain backhanded the girl across the face, he took off running in their direction. That low-down pussy saw him coming and took off in the other direction and disappeared from sight. Range jumped out the cab of the truck without closing the door. I followed once I had Heaven laid comfortably across the seat of the chair. The girl was sitting on the ground with her face covered. Tiny drops of blood trickled down her white uniform from where she was struck.

  “She doing okay, or do we need to call an ambulance?” She peered up at the three of us from her spot on the ground, and I felt like I’d been hit in the chest with a fucking crowbar.

  “Maribel?” Sebastian’s voice was small and pained.

  “Holy shit, we got big trouble, boys.”

  I turned my gaze toward the gas pumps. There, Mem stood as stiff as a statue. He knew. His eyes were completely closed, his head tilted upward toward the sun. There were no warning signs before he popped and let loose a savage roar at the top of his lungs.

  “Motherfucker.”

  Range met him halfway and held up his hands as a sign of peace. He tried to talk him down, but Mem looked right past him like he wasn’t even there. He clenched his fists at his sides, the veins in his neck protruding with each breath. Mem was gone. In his place was a trained killing machine marching a direct path to the enemy if he wasn’t stopped. Range grabbed him around the arms from the back. The strong hold prevented him from drawing his weapons, but he refused to stop his advance. He threw his head back and caught Range in the nose. Blood spewed from both nostrils, but he refused to let go. Mem had always been one strong motherfucker. His time in the Marines had made him superhuman; he’d never give up without a fight. He snarled with fury. The animalistic sounds that came from his chest drew in more onlookers to a situation that was quickly spiraling out of control. The guy was an out-of-control locomotive.

  Sebastian left me to care for Maribel. Her small body shook violently as she watched the man she’d once loved battle against his restraints. She stood from the ground and gave a half-assed attempt to straighten up her appearance, but she looked a hot mess. Her knees had a few scrapes, and her cheek began to darken from the backhand she’d taken across the face. Luckily, nothing looked as though it required medical attention. We hadn’t seen Maribel since the day before Memory left for the Marines and she was getting ready to graduate high school. We all assumed she went away to college and the two of them maintained their relationship long distance. The only thing Mem would tell us was that they’d broken up and to leave it the fuck alone, so that’s exactly what we did. Obviously, that was bullshit.

  “Please, Max, go help them. I have to get inside and start my shift.” She went to step away, but I stopped her by holding her elbow.

  “Let me help you, Maribel, take you somewhere, get you cleaned up.” She scoffed and yanked her arm out of my grasp.

  “I don’t need your fucking help, Max. Take your friend and get the fuck outta here before I call the cops. I never want to see any of you ever again, do you understand?” She didn’t wait for my reply, and there was no time to give her one. Sebastian called for me to help contain our brother. His hold on Mem was slipping; the two of them together were still no match for the scrappy ex-Marine. It would take all three of us to subdue him along with a patented move perfected by Buck Calhoun. I struck fast. My arms went around his neck, and I applied just enough pressure to lull Mem to sleep without causing permanent damage.

  “Motherfuck, that brother’s strong. I forgot about the sleeper hold. Should have used that first.” Range was out of breath but held Mem upright so his limp body wouldn’t hit the ground.

  “We need to go. Cops are coming.” I heard the sirens in the distance.

  “Put him in the truck and haul ass to the yard. I’ll grab the bike and follow.” Range and Sebastian hoisted Mem into the backseat of the truck and tossed me the keys. Heaven was no longer sleeping. Her momentary look of shock was replaced by that of a caring professional when she jumped into the backseat with Mem.

  “What happened? Did he fall off the motorcycle or something? I don’t see any blood.” Heaven grabbed and old shirt from somewhere and placed it under his head to make him more comfortable. She checked his pulse for a steady rhythm and pupils for signs of concussion. I watched her work through the rearview mirror and couldn’t help the warm feeling of pride that engulfed me as she cared for my brother.

  “He’s fine, baby, just fast asleep until we can get him back to the junkyard. Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head over.” I didn’t want her to worry. She’d had enough of that over the past few days and didn’t need any more.

  “Sleeping? Max, I’m a nurse. You expect me to believe that bullshit?” Her look was skeptical but hot as fuck when she narrowed her eyes and crinkled her little button nose.

  “Do you have any idea how badly I want to pull this truck over and fuck you right now?”

  She cocked her head to the side and didn’t skip a beat when she threw up both of her arms and made the sign of the cross in front of her face. I smiled all the way to the yard knowing that life would never be the same again now that I was with my Heaven.

  EPILOGUE

  MAXWELL

  I stopped reading the headlines a few days after the story broke. They were all the same. Bullshit lies told to unsuspecting people with just the right amount of spin that made them believable. My mother was hailed as the loving wife to her sickly husband, so overwrought with sorrow she made the ultimate sacrifice. The senator was praised for being a man of the people, who served his constituents with grace and unfettered honesty. I had to hand it to Jeremy; slimy little douche bag made out like a fat rat and probably landed a new job in the process. He was the nation’s new golden boy and next in line for the vacant senator’s seat. A perk, for years of service to the now deceased Senator Lancaster. What a bunch of bullshit. I could ruin him. One strategically placed email, and his shit would be fucked up forever. Why bother? The rich took care of their own; if it weren’t him, it would be some other prick with a firm handshake and crooked-ass smile. Jeremy hadn’t implicated us in his made-up suicide story, so for now, I’d allow his climb to the top, until I chose the time to make him my bitch. Having a senator in your back pocket was a nice commodity depending on the situation, especially when he was a pussy who wouldn’t last a single day in prison if the real story ever got out.

  The first week back at the junkyard was hard. I’d be the first to admit it was a struggle to compartmentalize everything that had happened at the mansion. I’d missed the junkyard so much, and it welcomed me back with open arms and forgiveness. It didn’t care what happened in the past, that I’d been a complete asshole and abandoned it; the yard was like an old shoe whose fit was perfectly comfortable every time you put it on. I took much-needed time to soak it all in, reacquainted myself with every square foot of the place and the lessons that Buck had taught me about living life to the fullest. Those memories kept me grounded when the anger became too much to handle, especially during those first few days. I had a lot to atone for, shit that needed to be dealt with, starting with getting my business back in order. Instead of lashing out at the people around me, something I had done far too often before I met Heaven, I chose worthier targets as outlets for my wrath. I struck hard and fast, just the way Buck taught me, until the underserving finally got what they rightfully earned and I felt satisfaction knowing that I was the one who made it happen.

  Cousin Richard lost his publishing contracts and was hit with several lawsuits, each siting copyright infringement. His wife, Abby, was fired from her position when thousands of dollars in missing profits mysteriously showed up in her bank account. She was currently behind bars pending charges of embezzlement, while Richard was homeless and living in a men’s shelter. I celebrated that vi
ctory by teaching Heaven the joys of multiple orgasms, yet there was more work to be done. She confided in me about the little boy who’d been in the basement the night of the party and how badly she felt about not being able to do something about it. I assured her that I would look into it and that she needn’t worry. The child, as it turned out, was the grandson of Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Fair, who had been granted custody after a court battle with their ex-daughter-in-law once she filed for separation from their son. They used their money and power to influence the judge in their favor, but they couldn’t worm their way out of the child pornography charges filed by the state of Virginia. Photos were published by the local newspaper that depicted the couple in compromising positions with minor children, and since led to their indictment on multiple charges. Heaven stumbled across a follow-up newspaper article and couldn’t believe the child’s good fortune when he was returned to his mother, along with half a million dollars from an anonymous donor. She was so overcome with relief that she had a permanent smile on her face for days. Her joy gave me the feeling of contentment that I’d failed to achieve when I lashed out and hurt my family. Heaven’s smile replaced that vile song in my head, the thing I’d reached for most when the days were dark and the shadow fought to consume me.

  Time heals all wounds, or does it? I wanted to dig my mother up from the ground and force her to tell me about my real father. I cursed her for taking the coward’s way out and ending her life before she revealed more of her fucked-up secrets. Some of that anger was directed towards Buck for not trusting me enough to fill in those missing pieces of my life. Maybe he’d thought I was too much of a pussy to handle the truth, or that it somehow would have made things a lot worse instead of better. In the end, I forgave him for those decisions he made years ago. He deserved nothing less than my loyalty, no matter what. Buck had given me a life to look forward to, and for once, I wasn’t afraid to dream about the future.

  EPILOGUE

  HAVEN

  The junkyard was a magical place, full of life and possibilities, even for an outsider like me. I’d never expected to feel so at ease with Max’s family. The way they interacted with one another, it felt like I’d known them my entire life. The contrast between the senator’s mansion and the junkyard was startling; where one was cold and sterile, the other was warm and inviting. You instantly fell in love with the place and never wanted to leave. It explained so much about the first time Max and I’d met, when right away I knew he was different from the rest of the Lancasters. The man who’d created this nirvana had a great understanding of family and putting down roots; he coveted togetherness and brotherhood, all of which were evident within the boundaries of the junkyard. If Buck were alive, I’d thank him for his keen sense of commitment to his family. Without it, Maxwell O’Neill would have ceased to exist long ago. The Lancasters’ cruelty towards their son was unconscionable. Like my cousin Richard, they’d thought only of their own selfish needs, and it had cost them big time.

  My life had changed so much in such a short period of time. It was hard to imagine having lived it any other way. I wasn’t alone anymore, forced to fend for myself by watching every dollar spent, afraid I’d end up on the street, homeless and starving. I had a family now, one who protected its members from anything or anyone who wished to harm them. I hadn’t been a part of a real family in so long I’d forgotten what a thrill it was to be surrounded by crazy, fun-loving, obnoxious people. The junkyard was always noisy; loud screams of “fuck you,” “cocksucker,” and “kiss my ass” could be heard at all hours of the day and night. The best of times were when the boys shared stories about how they grew up and the larger than life man who raised them. They’d certainly been a handful, and each tale was as unique as the individual who told it, yet they all had the same things in common: the love they felt for Buck, the junkyard, and each other was unyielding and would never change as long as they remained a family. Marcus had been noticeably absent since we arrived at the junkyard, and everyone was beginning to worry about his mental state. I didn’t know him well enough to offer an opinion, but Max assured me that if he was in trouble, the family would be there for him when the time came. They thought it best to give him time alone to adjust to life outside of the military before they bombarded him with their concerns. I agreed for the most part, but we kept a close eye out just in case.

  Life with Max. It sounded like the title of an old sitcom, but those first few weeks together were anything but. He struggled with his anger and frustration, the scars of the past cutting deep. Who could blame him for taking the time to get his head right? Weeks passed, and we’d finally made it to the place of our dreams, just the two of us, just as we’d planned. We found the perfect spot in a meadow full of wildflowers to share a picnic lunch. I wore a long white dress that made it difficult to run when Max and I played a game of tag, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. It was the perfect day, filled with smiles and laughter, just the way we’d pictured it. Max held me in his arms while we lay together on the blanket and watched the sun set over the horizon. We found our moment of peace and safety, the dream finally achieved.

  “Are you excited to start your new job?” Max asked while he played with my hair and kissed the side of my neck. I was offered a nursing position at the local hospital and accepted it without the slightest hesitation.

  “I am, but there’s something else I’m even more excited for. Can you guess what that could be, or do you need me to draw you a map?”

  I sat up on my knees and straddled his waist. It wasn’t long before we were both naked and panting with unrestrained passion. We moaned in unison as I lowered my center onto his hardened shaft and waited for my core to adjust to his size. I watched as his eyes danced with pleasure and a silly smile spread across his handsome face.

  “What are you laughing at, mister?” I gave him a quick kiss and returned his smirk.

  “I know what heaven feels like, and it’s warm and wet.”

  He leaned forward and took my nipple into his mouth and tugged it with his teeth. Max had incredible oral skills, and I could do little to stop my hips from rocking back and forth the longer he pleasured my breasts. The solid ground beneath us and my constant movements forced him deeper than he’d ever been. No way would I last much longer. The pending orgasm was building quickly, and Max was right there with me.

  “You ready to come, baby? I know you are; your tight pussy is squeezing my cock. You fuck me so good. Come for me, my sweet Heaven.” I was too far gone to give him a reply. My legs had already started to shake as we exploded together seconds later. My bones felt like they were made of jelly, my brain was a scrambled mess, and my heart was about to burst from my chest. Max and I lay chest to chest in silence, neither one of us willing to move or utter a single word in protest. I was in my happy place, where I felt safe and protected the way I did as a child. With Max, I’d found my home.

  “I’m going to love you one day, my sweet Heaven,” he whispered

  “And I’ll be here to love you right back, Maxwell O’Neill.”

  The End

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Diamonds in the Rough editing and Julia Goda for taking a chance on a new author.

  CP Smith who formats my work. Thank you, CP!

  AS Designs: Pre-made book covers for creating this beautiful cover.

  Shanni Kenny for being the best Personal Assistant in the world.

  All the blogs that help support me and my work. Thanks guys for all you do!

  And finally my awesome new street team The Junkyard Gang! You guys are the best and I appreciate you so very much.

  My family and friends who continue to support me day in and day out.

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  DISCOVER OTHER TITTLES BY AUTHOR SH RICHARDSON

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The Scrapyard Man

  Refuse: A Junkyard Wedding