Unstoppable

by Scott Hildreth

  The empty space. The silent time. The time when I’m alone.

  I used to love it.

  Now I hate it.

  Because all I can think about is one thing.

  Filling that time up…

  With you.

  I read what I wrote from beginning to end a few times. There wasn’t any changing it now. I looked over at the flowers and smiled. The inside of my car smelled like my mom’s bathroom. I gazed down at the card again, smiled, and signed my name.

  Ripp.

  I slid the card into the envelope and sealed it shut. There’s a first time for everything, and I tend to remember my first times. Buying flowers for a girl is something I had never done. I’d no more forget this day than I’d forget Dekkar’s swagger when he walked into the gym on day one or the fact that he kicked my arrogant ass that day.

  And, truth be told, I didn’t want to forget this. I don’t ever want to forget it. I want to hold onto to it. Cherish it. Remember it.

  Because right now, I feel better than I ever have.

  Right now, I’m Rippin’ it.

  And life is grand.

  Fuck yes.

  VEE. “Tonia, tell Ravenscraft we have that civil hearing set up for Monday. I think our pile is bigger than theirs, and we should get the house returned,” I said over my shoulder into my desk phone as I looked at Underground fight clubs in Austin on the internet.

  Attempting to maintain a level of focus at work since I met Michael was clearly next to, if not entirely, impossible. I enjoyed doing anything with him; even sitting on the couch together was more enjoyable than about anything else I could ever think of doing alone. He was a take-me-or-leave-me type of guy, and there was nothing about him I would change if I had an opportunity to do so.

  I liked him just the way he was. It had only been about three weeks since we started dating, and in many respects trying to remember life without him was difficult to even recall. Life with him satisfied me to no end. He often described, or attempted to describe how he felt, and he didn’t have a romantic bone in his body. He stumbled with his choice of words and phrasing - attempting to portray what he wanted to say to a point that he sometimes butchered his thoughts into unintelligible muddle.

  “I have Ravenscraft on two, I told him you were in court. He wants to know the odds of winning,” Tonia’s voice crackled over the speaker on my desk phone.

  “Fuck, Tonia. I’m busy. Tell him you text me before I walked into court. I’d say based on what I believe, ninety percent, based on what I know, seventy. Fuck it. Tell him we’ll get the house back as long as they don’t have proof of what he did with the real estate. Hell, it was in his nephew’s name, we should be fine,” I barked.

  “So…” she hesitated.

  “Tell him eighty,” I snapped.

  “Okay, eighty it is, thanks,” the phone clicked as she hung up.

  A criminal case and a civil case are two completely different animals in the eye of the Federal Court. A criminal case, according to law, must be proven beyond a reasonable doubt. If the jury has reasonable doubt, the defendant is found not guilty. In a civil case, however, the case is decided by a preponderance of evidence. The two sides - prosecution and defense, present their support of their respective case to the court. Whoever has more evidence to support their case, wins. The prosecution has evidence of guilt; it’s required to allow a Grand Jury to indict a person, charging them with the crime. The defendant only has to provide an amount of evidence that insinuates innocence exceeding the prosecution’s pile to the contrary.

  Ravenscraft had laundered millions of dollars through his real estate ventures. The money was obtained from the illicit sales of weapons. The illicit sales of weapons allowed a federal search warrant that uncovered evidence of money laundering. Ultimately, he was indicted by a Grand Jury for both. The weapons charges were dropped on evidence presented by yours truly that the confidential informant was addicted to drugs at the time of his testimony to the undercover agents. His testimony was used to start the investigation and to indict my client.

  A snitch with an addiction to pain killers cost the federal government millions of dollars of revenue in seizures. One more small civil case, and the entire thing would be tossed out the window. I often wonder who upstairs pulls the strings of determining who walks away and who does not. It’s sickening at times, to say the least.

  “Mrs. Simon, Mr. Ripton is here to see you,” Tonia said cheerily.

  “Here?” I clicked the mouse and shut the window on the computer I had open.

  “Yes ma’am,” she responded.

  “Send him back,” I responded as I shuffled paperwork to the side of my desk.

  He walked through the door into my office as I was trying to look busy at my desk. I looked up expecting to see him dressed in his shorts, a ribbed tank top, and his canvas sneakers. I saw nothing of the sort. As I heard him enter I looked up and saw…

  Damn you Michael Allen Ripton.

  Flowers.

  It was all I could do to try to maintain some sort of professional appearance and keep calm. I bit my bottom lip to keep it from quivering as I dropped the handful of paperwork onto the desk. Right now there was nothing in my office but Michael, me, and what appeared to be at least two dozen roses.

  “Oh my God. Are those for me?” I asked, trying my best not to lose my composure.

  “Yep. The guy at the flower place asked if I wanted him to deliver ‘em. I said why the fuck would I want some schmuck to deliver my girl flowers?” he smiled as he placed the vase on the edge of my desk.

  I swallowed heavily.

  My girl.

  I officially had a little girl moment. His spoken words caused goose bumps to rise on my arms. As he pushed the flowers from the edge of my desk, he looked up and smiled again.

  “Don’t want ‘em to fall over. Asked for a dozen, and it looked like a really small arrangement of ‘em. So I said go ahead and give me two dozen, but it still looked small. Got two and a half dozen. They couldn’t stuff three in that vase. Got a card too,” he pulled a card from his back pocket and placed it on the desk.

  “Don’t read the card till after I leave, okay?” he asked as he shifted his gaze from left to right.

  I’ve received flowers before. Typically when I receive them, they bring feelings of joy, affection, appreciation and love. Today, the delivery of these flowers brought something different. I felt almost sick – in a good way. My stomach fluttering, arms full of goose bumps, and at this particular instant, incapable of speaking - I bit my lip and nodded. I stared at the flowers as my heart filled with joy. He was doing it. He was tipping the scales.

  He bent at the waist and buried his face in the roses and drew a long slow breath through his nose. He straightened up, looked out the window, and exhaled slowly.

  “They’re uhhm, red roses,” he said as he pointed at them and smiled again.

  I’m sure not too many people have described Ripp as being adorable. At this moment, to me, he was absolutely adorable. I continued to bite my lip and nod. I’m sure to him I looked like a damned fool. I was afraid if I tried to speak I’d lose my composure. My father in the hospital, my drug trafficking client on the run, and my potential future boyfriend bringing me thirty-two roses was simply more than this poor little girl could handle at the moment.

  “You like ‘em?” he expression changed from smiling to an almost disappointment.

  “No. Love,” I made an effort to swallow the grapefruit sized lump in my throat.

  “I, uhhm…I love them,” I said as I held my arms outstretched.

  He took a few steps to meet me and wrapped his arms around me. As he hugged me, he may or may not have realized it, but my feet were several inches from the floor. Suspended in his arms, my legs dangling over the floor, I allowed my shoes to drop. As my heart rose into my throat, I closed my eyes.

  And.

  Silently gave myself to him.

  RIPP. “I don’t know dude, it’s just weird,�
�� I looked out of the patio toward our bikes.

  “I think she’s really pretty. She’s not arrogant acting like I thought she’d be. I like her,” Kace hesitated, “well maybe you really care for her already.”

  “No shit, Shorty. That’s what I’m saying. I’m trying to say it seems weird feeling like this. I’ve never really been gaga over a girl. And hell, we ain’t even fucked yet,” I raised my bottle of beer and took a drink.

  “Now that’s weird,” Dekk laughed as he patted Kace on the shoulder.

  “No dude, listen. It ain’t the not fuckin’ that’s weird. It’s the fact that we ain’t fuckin, and I’m completely okay with it,” I laughed.

  “Yeah, seems strange for sure,” Dekk wiped his mouth with a napkin and pushed his plate to the center of the table.

  “We, uhhm,” he finished chewing his sandwich and continued, “we going to ROT this year?”

  “Fuck yes we are. I ain’t said nothing to Vee yet, but I’m hoping she’ll go. They’re sayin’ there’s gonna be a couple hundred thousand people this year. Should be fun,” I nodded.

  “I’m so excited, I’ve never been,” Kace grinned.

  “Yeah, should be a good time,” I nodded.

  Austin’s ROT rally was a gathering of motorcycle riders and enthusiasts over the course of five days that was full of drinking, outdoor music concerts, venders, and tons of testosterone. A few hundred thousand people converged in the city and at the fairgrounds to share one common bond, motorcycles. ROT - Republic Of Texas.

  People came from every state in the USA and even in from other countries. It was becoming what Sturgis was back in the day. In time, we were certain to pass up Sturgis. We were, in fact, Texas.

  “Kelsey said he’s going to do a fundraiser deal for it. He’s going to try and get some money raised to rework the gym. He’s thinking about having people sign a waiver and fight over the weekend, maybe have five or six a night. He’s thinking about selling tickets, and he’ll use me being there as a draw for the crowd. Maybe put fliers up at the Rally,” Dekk shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in his chair.

  “Sounds like a recipe for a drunken biker brawl. Hell, count me in,” I laughed as I finished my beer.

  Normally, spending time with Shane and Kace made me feel normal. Typically, I would go from my day-to-day running and being a whore to sitting down with them, relaxing, and recharging my mental batteries. Now, sitting with them and talking to them, if Vee wasn’t present, irritated me. Seeing them together made me want to be with Vee.

  “I got some questions, Kace,” I said as I waived my hand at the waitress and held my finger in the air.

  “Okay,” she said as she looked at her watch.

  “Well, it’s about all of the sex shit. I been looking those books over you told me to, and It’s just hard to believe that people like doing all that shit. Is that just book bullshit, or is it real?” I asked.

  “Oh lord,” Shane sighed.

  “Stop it, Dekk. I’m serious,” I said as I leaned the weight of my upper body onto the table and looked at Kace.

  “Well, yes and no. Women in general? No. That stuff’s not for them. Some women, yes. But being submissive isn’t an invitation for a guy to order a woman around and make her do stuff, Ripp. Some women like the stuff in those books, some don’t. But the stuff in them, the sex?” she hesitated, looked at Shane, and turned to face me.

  “The sex is just sex. Women that aren’t submissive might enjoy all that stuff. And a woman that is submissive might not enjoy any of it. From my understanding, and all I know is what I’ve read, being dominant is about caring, understanding your partner, and providing structure. The submissive woman wants to do what it is that you enjoy because it pleases you. That’s what pleases her, pleasing you. So, you tell her what you want, and she does it to please you. There are rules and requirements, and everyone’s relationship is different. But it’s about desires and communicating those desires. And then, it has got to have structure. I’m going to get you different books. You’re not getting it,” she sighed.

  “I’m getting it. I just don’t want to fuck this deal up,” I pushed myself away from the table and looked at Shane.

  Strangely, he was comfortable enough that he had his hoodie down and was sitting back in his chair listening intently. Shane was one of those people that could be a closet freak and you’d never know it. He didn’t offer any of his experiences and I didn’t ask. The thought of Kace doing anything weird made me feel squeamish.

  “Communication. You have to communicate. You won’t mess it up if you communicate. She isn’t just going to pull the trigger one day and say, okay now we’re in a sexual relationship, and you only have one chance, Ripp,” she chuckled as she looked at her watch again.

  “I have to get back to work. I don’t want Mr. Martin disappointed because I’m late,” she said.

  I stood from my chair and gave her a hug. Kace was a great girl, and I couldn’t imagine living life without her. She was good for Shane and she was good for me. She brought my life balance, and lord knows I could use a little of that.

  “Bye Ripp,” she said as I released her from my arms.

  “See ya, Shorty,” I said as I sat down.

  “I’m going to walk her to the car, be right back,” Shane said as he pulled his hood over his head.

  “I’ll be here,” I said as the waitress handed me another beer.

  “Bring me the tab,” I said to the waitress.

  “One check?” she asked.

  “Yeah, business meeting,” I nodded.

  As she walked away I watched her ass wiggle in her shorts. Normally, I’d be trying to get her to let me take her home from work or fuck her when she got off of her shift. Right now, I could seriously look at her and say she was attractive, and leave it at that. I had one thing on my mind and one interest when it came to women.

  Vivian Simon.

  “You believe in love at first sight, Dekk?” I asked as Shane sat down.

  “What’s that?” he asked as he pulled down his hood.

  “Love at first sight. You believe in it?” I pressed my forearms onto the table and rubbed my hands together.

  “Oh, I doubt it. I believe in attraction at first sight, I suppose. I think we can be attracted to someone by seeing them. But to say that we’re in love after looking at someone? I doubt it. It just doesn’t make sense, Ripp. Take Vee for instance. What if she would have said, nice to meet you I’m married. Would you have lived the rest of your life loving her? No. What if she would have said, I don’t like big, tattooed, mean, muscled up pricks? Or, I’m gay? You’d have walked away and in two weeks you’d have forgot about her. Because in two weeks, you’d have fucked two different women,” he shook his head, “nope.”

  “How long you suppose it takes love to build up? Develop or whatever?” I asked.

  “Well, I imagine it would depend on the person. Weeks. Months. Hell some people date for a year or so and never get engaged or married. They’ll move on and find another person and repeat the process,” he scrunched his brow and stared at his empty plate.

  “I suppose it matters what the two people want, and how ready each one of them is for a relationship. You take two people that are compatible, ready, and willing?” he waved his hands in my direction.

  “I don’t know bro, maybe a few weeks,” he chuckled.

  “I’m serious, dude. It’s just fucking weird. She’s all I think about. I mean I think about her when I lay down to go to bed. Normally, I fall asleep in like thirty seconds. Lately, I lay there and think about her. Dumb shit. Like, I don’t know. For instance what it’d be like to go get ice cream with her. Or what she’d look like eatin’ spaghetti. Maybe how she’d look in a bikini down at the beach. Hell I even wondered about how she’d act in front of my parents at dinner,” I opened my hands and turned my palms up, waiting for an explanation.

  “Dinner? You’re thinking about taking her to dinner? You’ve never taken a girl to dinner at your pare
nt’s house, have you?” he leaned back in his seat and widened his eyes.

  “Nope,” I smiled.

  “And you’re going to?” he slowly opened his eyes a little wider as he waited for me to respond.

  “Thought about it, yep,” I pressed my chest into my forearms and smiled.

  “You been smiling a lot lately. Like more than normal,” he said.

  “Dude, I’m happy,” I leaned back and looked out at the parking lot.

  I turned from staring at the bikes toward the table as I saw the waitress approach. As I pulled my wallet from my pocket, I looked at Shane and smiled. The thought of all of us going to the ROT rally together seemed like a lot of fun. I wondered what Vee would think about being on the back of my bike, and whether or not she’d enjoy it.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I said as I placed my beer bottle over the money and bill.

  “Dude, your beer’s full,” Shane reminded me.

  I looked at the condensation on the outside of my fresh bottle of beer, “Yeah. I don’t want it. Let’s run out to the Harley dealer. I need to see about getting a new seat for the bike. Something more comfortable,” I said as I stood.

  “How long you and Vee been seeing each other?” Shane asked as he stood up.

  “About a month,” I shrugged.

  “That question earlier about falling in love? The one about how long it takes?” Shane said over his right shoulder as he pulled his hood over his head.

  “Yeah?” I responded.

  “Takes about a month, bro,” he said as he slapped my shoulder.

  As we approached our bikes, I pulled my key from my pocket. A month, huh? Well, it’s just about time I get that girl a pair of Chuck’s.

  She’s sure gonna need ‘em.

  VEE. Michael and I had been seeing each other for just a few days short of a month. The relationship had not, at any point in time, advanced along sexual lines. Knowing someone, and being compatible in all respects, was first and foremost as far as I was concerned. If the relationship was something that could flourish without sex, it would without a doubt be more stable with it. Sex, on the other hand, was nothing more than fucking if there was not a stable foundation of a relationship, or a level of compatibility between the two people investing in it. Knowing Michael and being comfortable with who he was stood as the single most important thing to me in the development of this relationship. It was satisfying to get to know a man that was his own person, and didn’t comply with what society expected him to be or become. Michael, by his admission and my careful observation, was truly his own person. This one thing, more than all other things combined, was certainly his most attractive quality.