RECYCLED MEMORY

  Then it stopped as suddenly as it had started.

  “WHAT! Nooo,” I screamed. “Keep doing that tongue thing, Marcus, don’t stop.”

  I yanked on his hair like a madwoman, hoping to draw his lips back to my overstimulated clit. Instead, he lowered my leg back to the floor and removed my shirt and bra with an appraising stare.

  “That was just a warm-up, baby. Need my cock in you the first time I make you come for me,”he muttered against my lips after a soul-searing kiss. The taste of my own essence on his mouth restarted my internal fire, I burned to have him inside me.

  “Your pussy is so sweet, Maribel, like strawberries.” He hummed low in his throat.

  “I could eat you every day of the week and twice on Sundays.”

  Well… that was also good.

  He helped me lie in the center of the cot before stepping back enough to remove his own clothing. Biology class was a waste of time compared to the real-live thing. First thing in the morning, those textbook pages that described the male penis were on their way to the incinerator. In a word, Marcus’s hard cock was a thing of beauty, thick and long. I shuttered to think that that thing would fit inside me without ripping me apart. It wasn’t long before he had retrieved a condom from his wallet and nestled himself between my legs. I thought he would plunge right in like a battering ram, anxious to get it over with like I’d read in books. My body suddenly tensed without warning, and Marcus must have sensed my discomfort. He took the time to reassure me before taking anything I wasn’t willing to give, which only made me love him more.

  “We can still stop, Pocket. Just say the word. It’s all up to you, baby.”

  “No, don’t stop just… go slow.”

  “I love you, Maribel Laine.” He kissed me softly on the lips. “You and no other.”

  He breached my entrance unhurried and with care despite the strain it took to hold back. The initial thrusts hurt like a son of a bitch, but they soon gave way to the feeling of fullness and pleasure. Soon enough, I was lifting my hips in time to meet his, and we were moving in sync to the beat of our own rhythm. It felt glorious to share this experience with someone I loved. All too soon, I felt my body’s release as I shuttered through my first orgasm. Marcus followed with a low moan and a sharp pulse of his cock as he plunged deep inside me one last time and stilled. I knew in that exact moment that no matter what, I would never leave him.

  “Like you were made for me, little pocket.” Marcus sighed contently, buried deep inside my womb.

  He was my life.

  My love.

  My one true heartbeat.

  Forever.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Marcus

  NAN WAS LAID TO rest in the plot of ground next to my parents at Oak Lawn Cemetery and Mausoleum. It was the second hardest day of my,and thankfully, I wasn’t left to face it alone. Buck took charge of making all the arrangements, from her beautiful white casket to the wide array of freshly-cut flowers neatly organized in varying colors and blooms. I knew fuck all about life insurance policies, living wills, or beneficiaries. Buck paid for everything himself and spared no expense. The quiet service was attended by just the six of us, Buck and the boys, and, of course, the love of my life. I said a final farewell to my last remaining family while Maribel held my hand with more love and resilience than anyone her age should have possessed. She calmed my wounded soul during those dark days. Her kind words and understanding were a godsend. I loved her beyond any rational reason. She belonged to me and only me. Completely.

  Time moved quickly after Nan’s death. Before long, we were looking forward to graduating from high school and moving on to bigger and better things. My fighting days were behind me; a cleansed mind brought forth a spiritual awaking, or some such bullshit Master Lim liked to spout all the time. The adolescent boy who’d once lashed out in undisciplined anger when he didn’t know any better had evolved into a man. Training under the tutelage of Buck Calhoun was worth its weight in gold; it prepared me for what life was all about. When I felt like giving up, he pushed me harder. When loneliness threatened to pull me under, he’d sit us all down and talk about brotherhood and his time spent with the Devil’s Raptors. If he felt I was unfocused, we’d find ourselves deep inside the confines of the woods spending countless hours on target practice.

  I loved the feel of cold steel in my hands.

  The catch of the trigger against my finger.

  The power behind its kick that started low in my belly and worked its way down around the pulse of my ball sack.

  Pure fuckin’ heaven.

  I had the choice of weapons at my disposal, but nothing felt better than the grips of two nine millimeters, one for each hand, while I aimed them both at the target. My accuracy surpassed even Buck’s during head-to-head drills. Instead of being angry, he gifted me with his personal set of guns that he’d had since he was a member of his club. I’d fought so hard against the idea that Buck was someone to look up to and learn from, that I’d almost missed the opportunities he afforded me. Nan had been smart enough to know that it took a man to make me a man. She’d put her faith in the one person she’d trusted above all others to do just that. She’d sacrificed so much to see that I had a good life, a normal life, one she knew she wasn’t capable of giving me. To win the war of your mind, you must first fight the war of your heart. I’d read those words tattooed across Buck’s chest on more than one occasion but could never decipher what they meant. A war of the heart seemed more like pussy talk and certainly not something that should’ve been permanently tatted on the body of an ex-biker.

  I was so fuckin’ wrong.

  It was an omen.

  Choices needed to be made if I wanted a future with Maribel after high school. My brothers had their shit together long before I gave it any airtime. The minute the clock struck twelve on the night of his eighteenth birthday, Range was packed and moved inside his room at the junkyard. Max and Sebastian received their college acceptance letters and were set to report to their dorms by the end of the summer. I thought I had more time until it finally ran out. Making plans never really seemed that important to me. Whenever Maribel would ask me about it, I blew her off. My mind was on other things, like the feel of her warm pussy when I was balls deep inside her. Typical shit every red-blooded American boy thought about at my age. What else was there? Next thing I knew, I was walking across the platform accepting my diploma from Principal Garvey without a single idea as to what I wanted to do with my life.

  What I did know, and what I’d always known, was that I wanted Maribel.

  Everything else meant dusty fuck to me.

  Our ruination was inevitable. Nothing that burned that brightly or consumed so completely could last a lifetime. Maribel was destined for bigger things, bigger than the love we felt for each other. I had to believe that in order to justify the choices I’d inevitably made. One lie by omission, an unexpected revelation, and a deal with the devil set us up for a world of hurt that would take eight years to finally unravel.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Maribel

  Present

  HE WAS OUT THERE somewhere watching me. I just knew it. As strange as it may sound, I’d always had a sixth sense when it came to Marcus Mecken. I’d never needed to walk into a room to know if he was already inside of it. I’d felt his presence long before I ventured in. That creepy cosmic connection wavered some over the years, but it never fully went away. Seeing Marcus alive and in the flesh after all these years was surreal in so many ways. He’d made it home alive, and from what I could tell from my hurried perusal, unscathed. Sure, I’d been lying on the ground dazed after taking a smack from my boyfriend, Drew, but that hadn’t been enough to distort my vision of all that was Marcus. His body was much bigger than that of the eighteen-year-old boy I remembered, a fuck of a lot bigger. The guy was a goddamn tank thanks to his time served in the Marines. Bastard belonged on a recruitment poster, that’s for damn sure. Sending him away had only been a temporary solution; it was
just a matter of time before he came back looking for answers.

  “You know,”—my co-worker approached me with scowl on her face—“if you wipe that spot counter clockwise for the next hour instead of clockwise, you might finally get it clean enough for me to see my reflection.”

  “Hardy-har-har, slut bucket,” I scoffed. “Worry about your own station for once.”

  Otelia Mae—or Odie, as she liked to be called—was the only person besides Drew I considered a friend. Odie was flat-out beautiful with a smile that could worm a hefty tip out of the tightest cheapskate when she set her mind to it. We’d both started waitressing at Nipsy’s truck stop slash diner right around the same time, and she’d been a trusted confidant ever since. Odie wasn’t exactly the shy, quiet type, and to say she disliked Drew would be akin to saying The Sharks weren’t fond of The Jets in the musical West Side Story. She flat out wouldn’t piss on him if he were on fire, hated his fucking guts. Period. I tried not to let that interfere with our friendship, as difficult as that might be. She refused to accept that Drew was the one for me. His erratic behavior from a few weeks ago didn’t exactly help his cause as far as Odie was concerned; in fact, she despised him even more.

  “You’ve been really distracted lately, retired slut bucket, not to mention a raging hormonal bitch on wheels. Anything you need to tell me?” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down, hoping I’d catch her drift. I did, but she was so far off the mark she had no idea.

  “I’m not pregnant, if that’s what you think. I… just got a few things on my mind, is all. Nothing to concern yourself with, okay? I’ll get my shit together… eventually.” Her tone suddenly grew serious before she grabbed my hand and stopped my incessant wiping.

  “You know I’m here if you ever need to talk, right?” Damn, she’s good.

  “Of course, I do. It’s nothing, I promise.”

  I gave her my best reassuring smile before deciding to occupy myself with something other than that grease-stained countertop. Filling the salt and pepper shakers, if done properly, could take over an hour to a seasoned pro like myself. It was mundane enough to keep me busy and Odie off my back without a lot of effort. Pretending Marcus’s reappearance wasn’t having an adverse effect on me was like trying to prove the world was flat. One fool might believe it, but convincing everyone else? Fat fucking chance. I ambled to the storage room in the back to grab everything I needed while Odie stayed up front to handle the customers. I wasn’t gone more than ten minutes before a ruckus out front had me running back through the swinging doors empty handed.

  “I am so tired of you coming in here with your fucking hand out begging for money. Get a fucking job, why don’t you. As a matter of fact, get two, so you can pay your girlfriend back for all the money you took from her.”

  Odie was causing a scene and could jeopardize both our jobs if she wasn’t careful. I had to put a stop to this shit before she started throwing dishes like she did the last time they got into it.

  “It’s none of your fucking business, OTELIA.”

  Drew stretched out her full name just to get a rise out of her. He knew full well how much Odie hated that, yet he still went for the jugular.

  “Now, take your happy ass to the back and get my girl before I call the Center for Disease Control and report your skanky ass for pickup.”

  Before Odie could fire off another insult, I walked out and shushed them both while I glanced around to see if any one of the two customers eating was paying attention. Luckily, it was just old Bob and his even older wife, Lucile, who were both regulars at this shithole. The two of them were hard of hearing and hadn’t even bothered to look up from their cups of sludge we served as coffee. Thank God for small favors.

  “Do you guys have to pull this shit every time you’re in the same room together?” I whisper-yelled. “Can’t we all just get along?” Fucking hell, Maribel, Rodney King? Geez.

  “We can get along when your friend here learns to shut her fucking pie hole for once and stay the fuck outa my goddamn face,” Drew seethed.

  “Mother fuck YOU and your no-account business, you piece of shit. You can kiss my left ass cheek till…” Ugh. They’re never going to stop fighting.

  “Okay, ENOUGH!” I hissed. “Give me a minute alone to talk to Drew, Odie.” She was already shaking her head no. “Please? Just for a minute, I promise.”

  She stormed to the storage room spitting mad while she mumbled “Cocksucker” loud enough for anyone within earshot to hear. I couldn’t blame her for her unsightly behavior. Last time Drew came by, he’d ended up stealing my purse and knocking me to the ground in the process. He’d apologized, of course, said it was an accident and begged my forgiveness. Odie had been less than pleased when I’d told her it was no big deal and he said he was sorry. She thought I was stupid for agreeing to stay with him after the shit he’d pulled. I wasn’t. She could never understand our relationship or why I always went back to him. For that, she needed to know my past, and I wasn’t sharing. I took a few deep breaths and tried to compose myself before I turned to listen to what Drew had to say. It wasn’t like I didn’t already know. Lately, he’d been asking for the same thing albeit for various reasons. Money.

  Namely, my money.

  Drew and I had met during a time when life had dealt me a round of shitty cards that all led to bust. I hadn’t been looking for romance. After Marcus, I’d locked the door on that prospect and threw away the key. He filled certain gaps in my life that I’d forgotten I needed, like companionship and kindness, but it was never the way things were with Marcus and me. I’d given my heart away at the tender age of thirteen, not realizing that I would never get it back. Drew was everything Marcus wasn’t; level headed, modest, reserved. He couldn’t play the tough-guy roll if someone held a gun to his head. I’d pushed him away with both hands, refusing to let go of a past that no longer wanted to be held on to. Marcus was never coming back, a fact he’d pounded into my head and my heart before he took off to fight a war that could’ve ended his life before it even began. Drew never gave up on me or left me high and dry. When I needed him, he was always there, and now it was my turn to return the favor.

  “You know she hates it when you call her Otelia. She says it sounds like a breakfast cereal.” Drew was distracted and tense but not because of his run-in with Odie.

  “Fuck her.” He advanced toward me quickly. “I need money, Maribel, as much as you’ve got.”

  “Drew.” I exhaled a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “What’s happening to you? Please tell me what’s going on, so I can help.”

  “I don’t,” he yelled but thought better of it. “Please, baby. Just this one last time. Trust me.”

  How could I deny him something as simple as money? My rent was paid for the month, and I wasn’t one to splurge on extras like fancy clothing or lavish meals. My biggest fear was that Drew was into something shady, and if I kept giving him money, it was bound to get worse. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was a junkie; bloodshot eyes, perspiration on his brow, unkempt clothing. I cared about Drew, but I couldn’t just bend over backwards this time and hand over the cash. I needed an explanation, something plausible that assured me he wasn’t into something dangerous. I waited expectantly for him to give me something, anything, by way of clarification before I reached into my pocket as I normally would.

  “Look, baby, it’s just a little harmless betting. A guy I know is putting on an underground boxing match, and I got a line on a sure thing. Fucker’s gonna take a dive in the third, and we stand to win a shit ton of money once I place the bet.”

  Drew’s demeanor was brimming with excitement, more than I’d seen from him in months.

  “Illegal betting? I’m not sure about that, Drew. What if something goes wrong?” I still wasn’t convinced giving him money was the right thing to do.

  “What could go wrong? I’m not the one fighting, Maribel. They are. Besides, this is the last time, I promise.” Lies on top of more lies.

&n
bsp; He was lying straight to my face. No one who keyed up with the prospect of betting walked away from it just because their girlfriend didn’t like it. I only hoped he knew what he was getting himself into and wasn’t too far gone to see his way out. I reached inside the pocket of my uniform and produced the two hundred dollars I’d planned on using for the electric bill and groceries. Hopefully, I’d earn enough tips to cover me for the next few days before the lights were turned off. I handed it to Drew, and for a split second, I saw regret on his face, as if he didn’t really want to take it but had no choice. We didn’t live together, so it wasn’t his lights he had to worry about; it was my burden to carry.

  “I promise I’ll pay you back as soon as I win, and not just for this. For all of it. You’ll see.” He sounded so convincing, but it was more of the same bullshit I’d heard many times before.

  “Just… be careful, okay? You’re the only other person I have in this world besides Odie.” A quick kiss on the cheek, and then he was gone, having gotten what he came for. It seemed life wasn’t done doling out the shitty hands after all. With Drew, I was running out of reasons why I should try and stay in the game.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Marcus

  SECURITY IN THIS PLACE was a motherfuckin’ joke. The tape I’d pressed inside the doorjamb of the delivery entrance earlier that day granted me access inside without a hitch. The so-called guard station was nothing more than a makeshift hostel where a fat-ass rent-a-cop got his forty winks in for the night. Bastard slept so hard I used a napkin inside my leather jacket to wipe the drool from his mouth before I slipped past. I knew where his office was located. The hour was late, but he’d still be there working like the self-important bastard I’d known him to be. I dipped inside the darkened outer office space that led to his much larger one and took it all in. There wasn’t a space on the walls that didn’t hold an intricately framed diploma or certification of his advanced education. They were all harsh reminders of the big fucking dreams he’d had for his daughter and his failure to hold up his end of the bargain we’d struck all those years ago.