The 7: Pride

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The 7: Pride Page 5

by Scott Hildreth

“I will. If you want me to.”

  She watched the waves crash ashore for a moment, seeming fascinated by it all. When she turned to face me, her smile had faded.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  She looked up. “It’s just. I don’t know. I left everything back there. In Texas. It wasn’t much, but it was all I had. Being with you has been awesome, but this is kind of a wakeup call. I need to get a job, I don’t have a car, I haven’t got any money, and I don’t have anywhere to live.”

  “You can stay with me.”

  “Thank you. But. I still need to get my life together. I spent way too much time with Josh, and I have nothing to show for it but a bunch of emotional scars.”

  I reached for her hand. “I’ve got as much or more emotional scars than anyone. I don’t have a family, and I’ve lost touch with all my Marine brothers. I think I wanted to come here in the hope of finding one of them. The chances of that are pretty scarce.”

  Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You don’t have any family?”

  The thought of proceeding with my adult life without them was unsettling. I shook my head. “They were killed in a car wreck when I was a senior in high school. Losing them was what prompted me to join the Marines.”

  She squeezed my hand. “I’m so sorry.”

  I pulled her into me and wrapped my arms around her. After a long embrace, she looked up. “I don’t have any family, either.”

  “What?”

  She chewed her bottom lip as she responded. “I never knew my parents. I went from foster home to foster home until I was old enough to run away. Then, I went from that to the abusive prick I was with. My life’s been interesting.”

  “So, you’ve got no one?”

  She shrugged. “Not that I know of.”

  “Looks like all we’ve got is each other.”

  “Kind of. I mean, this whole thing has been hard to believe.” She chuckled, and almost choked on it. “I hopped on the back of a motorcycle with a man I didn’t know, and rode across the United States with him. I still can’t believe it.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  “No.”

  “Let’s start over.” I took a step back and extended my hand. “Hi. My name’s Fisher Knox. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  She smiled. “Anna. Anna Marie Mc Cay. Nice to meet you.”

  “I’m looking for a place to live and a roommate who knows how to cook. Can you cook?”

  She nodded eagerly. “I can cook anything. I’m so serious right now. I’m not good at much, but I’ve been told I cook well.”

  “So, you’re interested?”

  She smiled. “Very.”

  In attitude and in appearance, she was an adorable woman. “What else are you good at?” I asked playfully.

  She glanced over each shoulder and then leaned toward me. “We’d be arrested if I showed you here,” she whispered.

  “Sounds like it’s time to leave.”

  She took one last look at the ocean and then met my gaze. “I’m ready.”

  “I thought you wanted to spend some time here.”

  She reached for my hand. “I’d rather spend some time cooking, and, well, the other thing.”

  I had an idea what the other thing was, but I wanted to find out for sure. So, hand in hand, we walked up the beach and toward my motorcycle.

  “I’ve got commitment issues,” I said as we reached the bike.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “If I have sex with someone, we’ve got to agree first that we’re committed to one another. I don’t do one-night stands. Everything’s got to be in place, and my feet have to be firmly planted on the ground first.”

  She laughed, but it seemed forced. “You’re thinking the other thing was sex?”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  She shook her head. “It’s sewing. I’m good at cooking and sewing,” she said straight-faced. “I can fashion a shirt from scratch.”

  I turned off the bike’s alarm and then switched on the ignition. Acting indifferent regarding her response, I mumbled a comment over my shoulder. “That’s a damned shame.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I’m really good in bed.” I looked at her. “I thought if that’s what you were talking about, we’d be a good match.”

  “Get your feet planted firmly, and I suppose we can find out,” she said dryly.

  “So, you’re planning on sticking around?”

  She grinned. “As long as you’ll let me.”

  The thought of having someone in my life on a permanent basis was exciting. I lost my parents, graduated high school, joined the Marines, went to war, and then spent seven years in prison.

  Other than learning a few lessons, I’d made no progress since graduating high school.

  “First things first,” I said. “We need to sell this gold and find a place to live.”

  She leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “Let me know when we get there. I’ll cook dinner.”

  That was one meal I couldn’t wait to eat.

  NINE

  Anna

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t meet earlier.” The realtor unlocked the front door, pushed it open, and then gestured toward the vacant living room. “It needs a little work, but it’s beachfront. Take a look around and see what you think.”

  Without furnishings, the home looked massive. I gazed up at the ceilings and tried to guess how high they were. Giddy with excitement, but still not believing what was going on, I stepped to the side and allowed Fisher to walk past me.

  It had been a week since we made it to Oceanside. True to his word, Fisher and I had yet to have sex. He’s joked about it and hinted around, but had not so much as made one move in that direction.

  In honor of what he’d said, I was willing to wait until his feet were firmly planted before I attacked him.

  “It’s a little more that I was hoping to spend, will the bank be flexible on price?” Fisher asked.

  “Their price is very hopeful, I’ll say that. If you make a reasonable offer, they may consider it.”

  “We’ll look around,” he said.

  “Take your time. I’ll be here if you have any questions.”

  Hand in hand, we walked through the home. The realtor said it needed work, but it looked perfect to me. The crayon marks on the walls, holes where pictures had been hung, and scuff marks on the hardwood floors were proof that the home had been lived in, and nothing else.

  We took a quick stroll through the lower level. The expansive living room ran from just inside the entrance to the rear of the home. The wall that faced the beach was all glass, giving an open view of the ocean. On the left, a dining room and a kitchen I’d simply die to have. On the right, the master bedroom and an office or den.

  “So, there’s one bedroom down here, and two upstairs?” I asked.

  “One down, two up.”

  I laughed. “Is that what that means?”

  He shrugged. “I guess so.”

  We walked up the stairs and looked around. Two bedrooms and a living area were in the upstairs loft, which was open to the downstairs. I peered over the handrail toward where the realtor stood.

  “This place makes me feel so small,” I whispered. “I’ve never seen ceilings this high.”

  He gazed downstairs and then looked at me. “I like it.”

  It seemed like a pipe dream to me. In two weeks, I’d escaped a nasty relationship, came close to being raped by three rejects from Deliverance, was saved by a stranger, rode across the United States on the back of a Harley, and played a part in a multi-million-dollar gold negotiation.

  Now, I was looking at a home with a man who’d promised to fuck my brains out once his feet were firmly planted on the ground.

  And, the home we were touring faced an ocean that prior to a week ago, I’d never had the privilege of experiencing.

  My mind was incapable of processing everything.

  “What do you think?” he a
sked.

  “About?”

  He spread his arms wide. “This?”

  “The house? I love it. How could I not?”

  “I’m going to make her an offer.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  He leaned over the handrail. “Write up a contract for a million three-fifty,” he said. “I won’t accept a counter offer, and they’ll pay one hundred percent of closing. If they’ll do it, I’ll pay cash. If they won’t, I’ll go elsewhere.”

  She looked up. “That’s going to be close. It’s a foreclosure, so they might--”

  In mid-sentence, she paused. A thunderous roar from outside grew louder and louder. In a few seconds, the walls began to shake.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “That,” she said in an elevated voice. “Is precisely why this home hasn’t sold. I’m sorry, I should have said something.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  Fisher tugged on my hand. “Motorcycles.”

  We rushed down the stairs and to the front door. Upon opening it, the source of the commotion was apparent. The street was now lined with motorcycles, side-by-side, for as far as I could see.

  The rumble from the exhaust was breathtaking. I could see where many would find it repulsive, but I wasn’t one of them. I saw it as a reminder of the freedom I felt on the open road.

  One by one, the motorcycles pulled up to he home next door.

  We stepped off the porch and stared in awe of what we saw. Each of the men wore a leather vest. As they came to a stop at the end of the driveway, I noticed their vests were marked with the name of their club, and I grinned.

  “Filthy Fuckers,” I whispered. “Look. It says it on the back of their vests.”

  Fisher nodded. “Filthy Fuckers MC. They were here when I left for Iraq. Rumor has it that a Navy SEAL is the president.”

  “Really? You know these guys?”

  “Don’t know them. Know of them.”

  “Oh.”

  One of the men took off his helmet, hung it one his handlebars, and then began to saunter in our direction. He was covered in tattoos from his fingertips to his neck, and his chest was just as broad as Fisher’s.

  I swallowed heavily. “He’s coming this way,” I whispered.

  Fisher tugged on my hand. “Come on.”

  We walked toward him and met in the center of the lawn.

  “Sorry for the commotion,” the man said. “We’re having a barbeque. Do it once a week.”

  “No problem,” Fisher said. “We were just looking at buying this place.”

  The man extended his hand. “Name’s Crip. I’m the president of this rag tag bunch.”

  Fisher shook his hand. “I used to see you guys here and there when I was in infantry training.”

  “Marine?”

  Fisher nodded. “Not any longer. Long story.”

  Crip chuckled. “I was a SEAL. It’s probably a longer story.” He gestured toward Fisher’s motorcycle. “That your sled?”

  “Bought it a few weeks ago. As soon as I got out of the joint.”

  Crip crossed his arms and looked Fisher up and down. “So, you don’t play well with others?”

  “Depends,” Fisher said.

  “When you two get done, you should come around back. I’ll introduce you to a few of the fellas.”

  Fisher gave a nod. “Sounds good.”

  Crip nodded in return, and then turned away. We walked back into the house, only to find the realtor pacing the floor in the kitchen.

  “That’s become a problem” she said. “It’s driven most of the prospective buyers away. I’m sorry.”

  Fisher let out a sigh. “I’m a man of my word. If you get them to accept my offer, I’ll learn to live with the noise and the commotion. If they don’t accept it, I’ll find another place. Somewhere quiet.”

  She grinned a guilty smile. “Considering all things, I think they might accept it. I can call them right now if you’d like to wait.”

  “Thank you,” Fisher said.

  We walked to the back of the house and stood side by side at row of windows that faced the beach. As the foamy waves washed ashore, I crossed my fingers in hope of the bank accepting Fisher’s offer.

  It was a superstitious habit that I used to do each time I met a new foster family, but it never seemed to work in my favor. Nonetheless, I kept them crossed and hoped for the best.

  After a long silent view of the beach, I heard the realtor’s footsteps coming down the hallway. Suspecting her news was going to be bad, I fixed my eyes on the horizon, certain it would be the last time I viewed it from that vantage point.

  “You said cash, is that right?” she asked.

  Fisher turned around. “That is correct.”

  “Congratulations, Mister Fisher. They accepted your offer. On a cash deal we can forgo some of the steps that prolong the closing process. You should be able to move in two weeks from now.”

  “Thank you,” Fisher said. “Can you give us a moment?”

  “Certainly.”

  She turned around and walked to the kitchen.

  Fisher looked at me and smiled.

  Then, he kissed me.

  The kiss wasn’t simple, and it took me by surprise.

  I closed my eyes and kissed him in return. I’d been kissed more times than I could count, but I’d never been kissed like that. My knees went wobbly, and my body tingled from head to toe. It seemed to last forever, and with each passing second, my legs grew weaker.

  Just before I was sure to collapse, our lips parted.

  I opened my eyes.

  Holy crap.

  “Two more weeks,” he said.

  I took another look at the ocean. The sun was starting to set, and the sky had changed from light blue to a colorful array of pinks, blues, and oranges. I looked at Fisher. “We can kiss for those two weeks, though, right?”

  “We sure can.”

  I closed my eyes, cocked my head to the side, and waited.

  As the sun set over the ocean, he kissed me again. My life had gone from a disaster to a fairytale in a matter of weeks.

  In two more weeks, I’d discover what Fisher was capable of when his feet were planted firmly on the ground.

  But, for the time being, I’d settle for the kiss.

  TEN

  Fisher

  I pulled the realtor’s sign from the yard on our way up the walk. After unlocking the door, we both stepped inside. I closed the door behind us and inhaled a deep breath. The smell of the coast filled my nostrils and caused my mouth to salivate.

  I set the sign against the wall just inside the door and looked at Anna. “I can’t believe it.”

  “I can’t either. I’m still in shock.”

  I glanced around the empty home and smiled at the thought of picking out furniture together. “We’ve got some shopping to do.”

  “Are you going to let me help pick stuff out?” she asked excitedly.

  “I thought I’d made myself clear. This is just as much yours as it is mine. We’re in this together. It’s the only way I can make the other thing work.”

  “Other thing?”

  I smiled. “Sex.”

  She rubbed her hands together frantically. “Oh. That.”

  “Yes. That.”

  “So, do we have to get furniture first, or can we just bone?”

  I took another look around and then turned to face her. “We’ve got a place to call our own, and a roof over our heads. As far as I’m concerned, we’re golden.”

  She smiled. “Golden is good?”

  “Golden is good,” I said.

  “So, we can do it?”

  “As long as not having any furniture doesn’t bother you. Would you rather wait until we at least have a bed?”

  She let out a sigh. “I’ve got a confession to make.”

  “What’s that?”

  Her gaze fell to the floor. “It’s embarrassing.”

  “That’s okay
. I won’t hold it against you.”

  She looked up. “Promise?”

  “Sure.”

  “I stole a look at your cock when we were in the hotel room. You were sleeping. Since then, I’ve been going nuts thinking about riding it. I mean, I’ve spent hours thinking about it.”

  “In Mesa? Before you cut my hair?”

  Her eyes thinned. “You knew?”

  “I wasn’t asleep. I’d been daydreaming about you. I was as hard as a rock when you lifted the covers. I was acting like I was asleep. You lifted the covers, and then lifted them again. I tried to be as still as I could.”

  She chuckled. “You wanted me to look?”

  “I sure wasn’t going to stop you. I thought maybe it’d be enough to convince you to stay.”

  She slapped my arm. “You fucker!”

  “What?”

  “I can’t believe you did that,” she said.

  “I can’t believe you looked.”

  She waved her hand at me dismissively. “You wanted me to.”

  “I sure wasn’t going to stop you.”

  “You try to come off as being proper, but you’re just as horny as the next guy, aren’t you?”

  “I’m different than most, I think.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I’m as horny as the next guy, but I can refrain from acting on my sexual desires. That’s the difference.”

  She put her hand on her hip and cocked her head to the side. “So, if I told you I wanted to wait two more weeks to bone, you’d be okay with that?”

  The thought of waiting two more weeks to fuck her was incomprehensible to me. I was a gentleman in many respects, but I wasn’t superhuman. Being in Anna’s presence for almost a month without having sex was enough to drive me insane.

  Going two more weeks would certainly push me over the edge.

  “I’m not waiting two more weeks,” I said adamantly. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “If I had to wait one more minute, I think I’d explode,” she said.

  “Let’s get to it, then.”

  She reached for her zipper. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

  ELEVEN

  Anna

  Because of complications in our relationship, I’d stopped having sex with Josh a year before I finally got up enough nerve to leave. I had no idea when Fisher had been with a woman last, but it had at least been ten years.

 

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