by B. B. Hamel
“That’s just it, I don’t know kids at all.”
“You’ll learn, trust me. I didn’t know anything when he was born, either.”
He glances at me. “That must have been hard.”
“Those first few months…” I trail off a little bit, remembering. I can see Max when he was first born all over again, the flood of emotions that ran through me at the time. I was a wreck for about a week afterwards, crying at the drop of a hat, but that went away and was replaced by a slow burning love mixed with exhaustion.
Luke suddenly slows the car down and pulls down a little side street. There’s nothing back here except an old underwear factory, but that’s been shut down for ages. He parks the car and we’re utterly alone, secluded on all sides by trees.
“Tell me about it,” he says earnestly. “I missed it, but I want to know.”
“Okay, well. It was hard.” I hesitate, trying to find the words. “You know all those clichés people use about being a parent? It’s all true, more or less. He wanted to eat constantly, especially that first month. He didn’t sleep through the night until like a month and a half in, and only then he slept maybe two or three nights a week. I was a zombie for the first five months of his life.”
“How did you do it?” he asks me.
“My parents,” I say. “Honestly, without them I don’t know where I’d be. I don’t know how single moms do it without help. There were times I just wanted him to stop crying so badly, I would have done anything.”
“I’m glad you have them,” he says softly, looking out the front windshield. “As much as they hate me, and as hard as they’ve made things for us… I’m glad you had your parents.”
“Me too.” I hesitate a second. “It’s why I didn’t talk to you in prison.”
He glances at me. “Yeah?”
“My parents threatened to kick me out if I did, and I couldn’t risk that. Not with Max.”
“I get it,” he says after a beat. “I’m glad you didn’t talk to me.”
“That can’t be true. You hated me.”
“I did,” he says softly and shrugs. “But now I get it. I don’t think I could have before, but now I do.”
I lean toward him, a strange vibration running up my spine. “I thought about you.”
“Did you?” he leans toward me, too.
“Every day. I never gave up on you, even when I really wanted to. I haven’t dated anyone since you left, haven’t kissed another pair of lips…”
“Haven’t been touched for five years,” he says softly.
I nod and I feel it all right then, the massive weight of my desire for him. I’ve put off so much to be with him again, to have him again, and I need it so badly that it hurts.
“I would have understood, if you needed comfort,” he says softly, reaching out toward me. He takes my hair in his fist and slowly pulls me toward him. His lips brush past mine. “If you needed someone to touch your body while I was gone. I wouldn’t have held it against you.”
“I couldn’t,” I say, half-gasping.
“I know. And that’s why I can’t keep punishing you.”
“Punishing me?”
“Every second that passes without you getting what you want is a punishment.” He pulls back slightly, looking into my eyes. “And I know I can make that all better.”
I press my lips against his furiously, starving for him, desire raging through me. He kisses me back and pulls me tighter, not slowing down. There’s no hint of hesitation or reservation in his kiss. It’s just pure, passionate need, and I know I’m about to give myself up to something that’s much bigger than me.
He shifts his seat back then pulls me over. He lifts my shirt up over my head, revealing my breasts barely covered by a tight black bra. His hands easily unhook it, and I let the bra slide forward. He pushes it aside, his hands on my chest, teasing my nipples as he kisses my lips.
My pussy is hot with need for him as I press myself tighter. I haven’t touched a man in five years, let alone straddled one like this. It feels so natural and right with Luke, and maybe that’s why I haven’t tried to find someone else. I knew nobody could touch me the same way Luke can.
He reaches down and unbuttons my jeans. He slides them over my ass and I sit up, helping him tug them down around my ankles. His hand slides forward, pressing down my panties, finding my soaking pussy.
“God damn,” he whispers in my ear. “I’ve dreamed about this pussy for five years. Do you know how badly I need to sink myself inside of you, Avery?”
“I need it too,” I whisper back. “Fuck, Luke. Five years is too long.”
“It’s way too long.” He presses his fingers inside of me, making me gasp, before rubbing along my clit. “You need to be taken care of. Good thing I’m home now.”
I gasp and bite his lip before kissing him harder. He starts to fuck my pussy with his fingers again. The windows are fogging up and I feel so exposed here, pretty much naked, straddling him. I reach down and unbuckle his belt, pulling open his jeans, before reaching down his boxer briefs and sliding out his hard cock. He shimmies his jeans down under his ass and I take him in both hands.
He’s thick and big, a lot bigger than I remembered. I slowly stroke him as he fucks my pussy and he feels so goddamn good. I can barely control myself, and just when I feel like I’ll burst, he slides his fingers out of me. He grabs my hips, pulls me forward, and slowly lets me slide down his length.
I gasp and toss my head back as he fills me up. He grabs my hips tight as he pushes all the way in, filling me up, making me groan. I haven’t been filled like this in five years, haven’t had a man’s rough hands on my hips in five years, haven’t felt this good in five years. He grabs my hair with one hand and pulls me forward, kissing me as he slowly pulls back and thrusts in again.
I take his cock, letting him fuck me. He kisses my lips, teases my breasts, and slaps my ass. I’m a ball of pleasure and longing and need, all pent-up and ready to be released. It’s five years of stress, anger, worry, and desire, all building on top of his huge cock.
He fucks me harder. “Is this what you’ve been needing?” he whispers. “My big dick in your pretty little cunt?”
“Yes,” I moan back. “Oh god, yes. I’ve been dreaming about your hands on my ass.”
He puts both hands on my ass and slaps it. “Like this?”
“God, yes. And your lips on my breasts.” He leans forward, taking a nipple between his lips. “Fuck, yes, Luke.”
He slams his cock inside of me and slaps my ass, sucking my nipple and fucking my pussy. I start to ride him, bucking back, and I reach my hands up to press back against the roof of the car. I use that as leverage, slamming down on his cock, and he handles me.
He pulls my hair back, tipping my head, making it hurt. His cock slams into me, a wet slap again and again, and I love that noise, needing it. I’m moaning now, my voice rising as my orgasm builds in my core. I press harder against the roof and slam down again and again, riding his big cock, letting him handle me and destroy me.
The orgasm comes fast, ripping through my skin, tearing me to pieces. I lean down and grip his shoulders as he fucks me mercilessly, not stopping at all, not even for a second.
The orgasm takes me somewhere else. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like all of the horrible things that have happened to me over the last five years suddenly disappear, and I’m in a new world. Here, it’s just me and Luke, and nothing bad can happen to us. It’s the way things should have been, the way things were before he went to prison.
I slowly come back to reality. He pulls me close and kisses me slowly. “I want you to taste it,” he whispers in my ear, and I know what he needs.
I climb off him, back to the passenger side. I take his cock in my mouth, the scent of my pussy still on him, and I start to suck him fast. He groans, pushing me deeper, sliding his cock into my throat. I gag but I don’t stop, I suck him hard and deep, needing every inch of him, needing him to feel good.
“Fuck, girl,” he groans, and I can taste it as he comes thick ropes into my mouth. I swallow him, every single drop of him, loving his taste, needing it so badly it almost hurts.
Slowly he finishes and pulls me against him. He turns the heat up high and holds me tight, and although I’m still pretty much naked, I don’t mind. This feels so good I can barely explain or understand it.
“I needed that,” I say finally, breaking the silence.
“Me too,” he admits. “More than you know.”
“Is it weird how not weird this feels?”
He laughs softly. “Yeah,” he says. “But also not really.”
I smile and bury my face in his shoulder. I don’t know where we’re going from here, what any of this means, but I don’t care. I had to feel this again. If we never touch again and this was a one-time thing, then so be it. But I’m not holding myself back from getting what I want anymore.
15
Luke
When I finally get back to the garage, Uncle Nick doesn’t say anything about me being away all afternoon. I go back to work, poking around my truck for a few minutes before taking care of a client’s car.
The whole time, though, I just keep thinking about Avery. I’m wondering what the hell that meant back there in the car. After we had sex, we just stayed parked and talked for another hour. She told me all about Max, his favorite stories, his favorite games and toys. I had a million questions, and we just lost ourselves in talking with each other like we used to do.
I can remember whole days passing like that, especially in the summer. We’d go find a good grassy spot near the water and I’d put a blanket down. We’d lie there all afternoon, sometimes having sex, but sometimes just talking with each other, her head in my lap, my hands on her skin. It felt so good, intimate, close, to just have a person that you can completely unload all of your thoughts and feelings without worrying about any judgment. That’s such a rare thing in this world, or at least that’s been my experience.
Of course, I didn’t have anyone like that in prison. After I found my crew, I sat with them and we talked, but I never felt close to any of them. Now that I’m out, I know I’ll never see or hear from any of them, and I’m good with that. Everything that happened in prison is like a bad dream to me.
I work hard for the rest of the day, and around six, Uncle Nick tells me to head home for the night.
“Everything okay?” he asks me before I leave.
I nod. “Everything’s good. I met Max earlier.”
He looks surprised. “Your son?”
“Yeah.”
“How was that?”
“Good,” I say. “A little strange, but it was good.”
“Good for you, son,” he says, smiling. “I’m glad you’re stepping up.”
“I won’t be like my own old man.”
He grins at that. “Never thought you would be.”
I wave bye and head out to my car. Once I get in and start the engine, my phone starts ringing. I fumble with it, pulling it out from my pocket, and answer without checking the screen.
“Hello?”
“Luke,” the scratchy voice says. “This is Jason Slick.”
That catches me off guard. “What can I do for you, Mr. Slick?”
“Call me Slick,” he grunts. “Come meet me at the address I’m going to text you.”
“Right now?”
“Right now,” he says. “I’ll be there in ten minutes and I’m not staying longer than an hour.”
“What is this place?”
“A bar.” He hangs up the phone.
I stare at it, not sure what to make of this. A second later, I get a text with an address. I put it into my maps app and before I know it, I’m following the directions.
It only takes me fifteen minutes to get there. It’s a pretty basic bar in the middle of a strip mall, with a pet store on one side and a Panera Bread on the other. It looks like a sports bar type place, and it’s surprisingly crowded when I walk inside.
I spot Slick toward the back wall sitting in a booth alone. I walk past the hostess and sit down across from him. He barely looks up as I get situated.
“Glad you came,” he says, sipping a glass of whisky.
The waitress stops by and I order myself a beer. He watches me for a second.
“What am I doing here?” I ask him finally.
“I like this place. Nice and crowded.”
“That’s not usually why people like a bar.”
“Quiet bars are dangerous. Makes it easy to eavesdrop on your neighbor. Loud bars are better for this sort of thing.”
I stare at him, and I feel my heart starting to beat fast. “What sort of thing is this?”
“You wanted to know about the case. I might be willing to tell you something.”
The waitress comes back with my drink. I take a pull from it eagerly as Slick smiles and thanks her. He eyes me, a little smile on his face.
“Well?” he asks.
“I’m just surprised. I didn’t think you wanted to get involved.”
“Truth is, you threw me off a little bit, kid,” he says. He takes out a cigarette and lights it up. Nobody else is smoking, but nobody seems to mind. “Thing is, when you said that name back at my place, I was a little blindsided.”
“Why?” I ask him, excitement building. “Am I on the right track?”
Another little grin. “Could be. Dominic’s been on my suspects list for a while now, but I don’t think he’s the guy that actually killed anyone.”
“No, but he did the bribing, didn’t he?”
“Maybe,” Slick says. “Can’t be sure.”
“It seems obvious to me.”
“Yeah, well, when you get as much experience as I have, you’ll realize that the obvious answer isn’t always the right one.” He finishes his whisky, rattling the ice in the glass. “But you might be right.”
“Why?” I ask him.
“You asked me where I got the hard drive. I’ll tell you, but you have to promise me something.”
“Okay,” I say, staring at him intently. “What do you need?”
“Don’t do something stupid and go running out there, guns blazing, making accusations. Can you hold this close to your chest until you’re absolutely ready?”
“Yes,” I say. “I can do that.”
He nods, taking a long drag. “Okay then. When I went back to try and interview one of the supposed ‘eye witnesses’ that claimed to have seen your truck at the scene of the crime, I had a hell of a time finding him. Now why would that be?”
I shrug. “I have no clue.”
“Seems odd, right? Guy’s supposedly a local, and yet I can’t find him anywhere in town.”
“Maybe he went on vacation?”
“Maybe,” Slick says. “But as it turns out, the guy lives a few towns over, and he keeps to himself. A real quiet type, if you know what I mean.”
“I know guys like that,” I say, thinking of my uncle. He’s a private man, keeps to himself.
“Well, I put this guy to the screws. Really pushed him hard. He wouldn’t say a word, at least until I threatened him with contempt and lying under oath, gave him my best detective speech.
“And you know what he told me? He told me that he never lied, but he does know where an important piece of the puzzle is hidden. He told me that I could find it in a barn on this old piece of property at the edge of town.”
I’m sitting there, completely sucked into the story. I can’t believe this is how it happened, how I was finally vindicated.
“Now, a lot of questions are raised here. How the hell would this guy know something important like that? He’s supposed to just be a bystander, just a guy that happened to be there when the accident went down. How would he know where an important piece of evidence was hidden?”
“Who was he?” I ask him.
He grins. “That’s the right question. I did some digging, and I found out that he’s Robert Seller’s second cou
sin.”
I stare at him, blown away. “Avery’s father’s second cousin?”
“That’s right. Apparently he’s the black sheep of the family, you know how that can be. But I did notice a nice new television in his living room when I was there, though the house itself was a mess.”
“That bastard,” I say softly. “Seller paid him to point the blame at me.”
“Maybe,” Slick says, grinning. “Looks like that, doesn’t it?”
“So what happened with the hard drive, where was it?”
“Funny thing about that. You’d expect a piece of evidence as important as that hard drive would disappear. There’s a lot of places you can get rid of something like that, lots of easy places. Hell, just burying it somewhere in the woods would ensure it never appears again. But that’s not what most criminals do.”
“Why not?” I ask, totally engrossed.
“Who knows? They want a memento, maybe. Either way, I went to the barn and searched through it. The place was in bad shape, full of fucking junk, but in the very back, inside an old trunk, was the hard drive. I found four hard drives actually, had to go through them all, but yours was in there. Took me two days to comb through the whole place.”
“Who owns the barn?” I ask him, leaning forward.
He gives me a huge grin. “Gavin Walker. Seller’s partner.”
“Fuck,” I say softly. “Both Seller and Walker are involved.”
“Maybe,” Slick says. “Again, we've got no proof. Somebody could have dropped it off in that barn, not even knowing it was owned by the Walker family.”
“Not a chance,” I say.
He shrugs. “I agree. But we need proof.”
“We?” I ask, cocking my head.
“Don’t get excited, kid. I just don’t want to see you dead.”
“I’m not going to get hurt. Those bastards framed me.”
“Why do they hate you?” he asks. “Aside from the obvious.”
“Aside from getting Avery pregnant? I’m a Harper. My family’s trash. They hate me just because of who I am.”
Slick watches me silently for a minute and I sip my beer, rage flowing through me. I have to work hard to keep it under control.