Refuse: A Junkyard Wedding

by SH Richardson

  “Jesus, baby, that feels so fucking good.” He moaned deeply as I softly stroked him up and down while I stared into this beautiful eyes as I did so. It was light out considering it was early afternoon, but the dark tint to the windows gave me just the cover I needed to take what I needed and give him what he wanted. Using my free hand, I pulled me panties to one side and lifted myself just high enough on his lap to impale my pussy on his glorious cock. I was already so wet he slid right in without resistance, and the fullness of it all gave me pause when I was fully seated to the hilt. We were ravenous for each other, starving for that complete connection that two people in love have for one another. Public indecency would not deny us this feeling, and as I started to move on top of him, the sounds of pleasure were enough to shatter the glass windows separating us from the outside world.

  “I fucking love you, baby, don’t ever fucking leave me again,” he grunted as he rutted deeper and deeper upward while I pushed my hips downward. We maintained that perfect rhythm to get us to the finish line, anxious to get there together.

  “I’ll never leave you, Range, never. You are my life,” I answered as best I could as we both pushed ourselves toward what was going to be the most monumental climax of our lives. The truck was rocking back and forth, and the windows were so foggy they blotted out the sun. A few more minutes, and we both came together shouting each other’s names at the top of our lungs, the force of it all causing my body to collapse onto Range’s chest, completely spent with barely enough energy to take a breath. Then it happened. I couldn’t stop it if I tried. It was like a tidal wave during a heavy storm battling with a tsunami for ultimate control. All the stress from being afraid of the unknown was gone, the tightening of my chest when I thought about dying by the hands of an unknown stranger had dissipated to almost nothing. The overwhelming sadness from missing the man I loved more than life after I foolishly left him caused a flood of emotions I didn’t know I’d been holding back. I went from zero to sixty in three seconds flat, from sexually satisfied and floating on a cloud to crying my eyes out and holding on to Range so tightly I thought my arms would break. I didn’t want to let him go, not even for a second.

  What a wondrous mess I’d made of things, crying like a school girl after sharing the most exciting experience of my life with the man I loved. Luckily, Range didn’t seem to mind my blubbering all over his neck as he held me closer and whispered assurances in my ear as he tried to soothe me.

  “I love you.”

  “I got you, hold on to me.”

  “Let it all go, tootsie baby.”

  “It’s going to be all right, I promise you.”

  The more he whispered in my ear, the tighter I squeezed him. Knowing that I could have lost him made me want to rip his chest open and climb inside where it was safe and warm. Only a complete looney toon like me could go from riding my man into the leather upholstery to crying like a fool in less than five minutes, but hey, I never said I was perfect. Leave it up to Range to finally put an end to my one-woman pity party by cracking a much-needed joke at my own expense, which was so unlike him that my tears dried up instantly and I was laughing my ass off sitting on his lap in the front seat of the monster truck.

  “Damn, baby. My dick is good, but you ain’t gotta cry over it. I’ll give you more if you want.” Range rarely cracked jokes, but when he did, I always found them to be out of this world hilarious. We were laughing like a bunch of jungle hyenas when a sudden knock on the driver’s side window had us both looking at each other in a complete stupor. Range cracked the window just enough to see who was outside. It wasn’t like we were naked or anything, but the fresh smell of sex was still in the air. When I heard the voice of the uninvited guest, I was able to breathe a little easier, knowing it wasn’t the local police about to give us a ticket or something.

  “You two love birds wanna take that shit somewhere else? You. Do. Not. Want my patrons to hear you guys fucking and get the wrong idea,” Fox said with a hint of humor in his voice.

  “Yeah, man, we’re going. Thanks for the fucking tip,” Range responded as he turned the key in the truck’s ignition. I reluctantly climbed off his lap and adjusted my dress as I took my rightful seat next to him so he could drive. We took off in the general direction of town and never looked back. So where did we end up? City hall, of course, and on that beautiful Tuesday afternoon, I became Mrs. Range Reardon with me dressed in my wrinkly dress and him in his board shorts. What an excellent pair we made.

  That was two weeks ago, and we’d been on our honeymoon ever since. One quick text to my family, and one from Range to the boys, and we made our way to Buck’s mountain cabin for some much-needed time alone. We had so much to catch up on since our time apart, and the peace and solitude of this place was just what the doctor ordered. We grabbed a few necessities from the general store, and the rest, we improvised. I told him about the support group and the wonderful people I had met there. We talked about my nightmares in great detail, and how they had subsided since I started attending the sessions. Range encouraged me to continue with them if I found it helpful, assuring me he would do everything to support me. We talked about the boys, well, Max and Marcus mostly, since Sebastian was completely caught up in Ashley; nothing could dampen his spirits. Range was very concerned about his brothers and felt completely responsible for their well-being. I’d admit that after hearing what’d been going on since I’d left the junkyard, my worry meter was ticking on a million decibels as well. It was time for us to return home, but this much was true, we were returning as man and wife and nothing would ever separate us again.

  “Do you think everyone will be angry with us for leaving so suddenly?” I asked a sleepy Range, still stroking his lovely hair.

  “Don’t give a fuck, tootsie baby. This is our life, remember?” He kissed my stomach, then my belly button, all the way to my neck as he moved to his knees and ran a warm hand over my left breast. The moment he grazed my taut nipple, I moaned out loud and my legs spread on their own accord as if he was Ali Baba and used that magical phrase “Open Sesame.”

  “Right now, the only thing I care about is fucking my wife so hard that she screams my name loud enough people can hear her in Albuquerque.” He flipped me over on my stomach and entered me from behind in one swift thrust. I was pretty sure that by the time we were finished, they not only heard me in Albuquerque, but New Zealanders were wondering who the fuck this Range was and why he was murdering that woman.

  Chapter 14

  Range

  D-Day, time to pay the piper, face the music, shit or get off the bowl. Call it what you want, we were headed home to Virginia. We drove the few hours from Buck’s cabin and returned to Remington in time for breakfast. If I had my wish, we would still be in the woods, fucking like wild rabbits until this time next year. Just the two of us. Fuck everyone else. Life was moving forward as it always did, and I left a mess behind that needed my attention, while my woman needed to see her family. Clover was as close to her sisters as I was to my brothers, and the absence from them made our commitment to each other seem incomplete. We didn’t regret our decision to get married by ourselves, but Clover was bursting at the seams to finally include the rest of the gang. That was one of the many things I loved about her: her dedication to family and friends. She needed to share her excitement with everyone and bring joy to the lives of others. Clover was one of a kind, and I was the lucky bastard who claimed her as mine.

  The day of our wedding was the happiest day of my life. We stood together in front of that judge, and with one beautiful smile from my woman, I knew we were making the right decision. She didn’t need that big fucking circus of a wedding her mother and sisters had been planning. Clover didn’t want glitz and glamour, fancy-assed table covers, and expensive champagne. She only wanted me. When the judge asked if she took me as her husband till death do us part, she started bouncing up and down on her little legs like a kid finding her favorite toy under the Christmas tree. The poor judge was s
o amused he could hardly finish the ceremony without laughing his ass off. When he asked if we had rings to exchange, Clover had a hint of sadness in her eyes until I reached around my neck and produced the gold chain I’d worn since the day she’d left me, and produced the tiny diamond ring I had given her. I’d kept it close to my heart until the day I would return it to her. I didn’t believe Buck that day he told me anything worth having is worth waiting for until the judge pronounced us man and wife and my wait was finally over.

  We powered up our phones on the way home and sent a text to everyone to meet us at the junkyard so we could tell them the good news all at once. There were so many text messages and voice mails that we only got through a few before we decided to stop listening. They were all pretty much the same anyway, and within a few hours, we would see them in person:

  Sebastian: “Dude, what the fuck? Not a good time to disappear, man. The doctor says I have a slight sprain in my jaw, can you believe that? Get your ass back here, pronto.”

  Memory: “Got news on Max, fucker, need to meet as soon as you get back.”

  That message was disturbing, but I kept listening to a few more of mine.

  Fox: “Someone reported strange noises coming from a black monster truck parked in front of my place the other day. Cops came by asking questions and shit. Thanks a lot, you pretty motherfucker.”

  Ashley: “Sebastian is injured and needs his brother right now. Hope you’re having fun, asshole.”

  Shelly: “You better take care of her, Range, or I swear to God I’m going to kill you with my bare hands.”

  Enough was enough. I shut my phone off and held Clover’s hand as I continued to drive us to the junkyard. She had this stupid grin on her face as she read some of her text messages, so I asked her what was so funny. She looked at me and read a few out loud:

  Mom: “Clove, dear, it’s mom. Hope I’m doing this right. I hate these small buttons on this phone. Enjoy yourself and tell Range I said hello.”

  Shelly: “How could you just up and leave and not tell anyone where you’re going? When you get back, I’m going to beat your ass.”

  Ashley: “I hope you’re having more fun than I am. Sebastian hurt himself, and my archery lessons have been postponed for a week. Bummer.”

  You can’t choose your family, they say, right or wrong, they’re all you’ve got. Right about now, I would choose the Adams family instead of these band of degenerates. Clover must have been thinking the same thing, ‘cause when she peeked over at me, we both started laughing so hard I almost swerved off the road. Oh yeah, this was gonna be loads of fun.

  ***

  “How could you just run off and get married without us! Are you crazy or something?”

  “Who the hell gets married on a Tuesday, wearing shorts, no less?”

  “This is all your fault, Range. I knew I couldn’t trust you.”

  “Sooooo…how was the honeymoon?”

  “Dude, really? What the fuck? Ow… my jaw hurts.”

  “Oh my goodness, my baby is married.”

  “I knew you two were up to something the way that truck was rockin’ outside my shop.”

  We’d pulled up to the house and announced to the crowd that we were happily married, and all fucking hell broke loose. Clover’s mom was crying her eyes out, while her dad was pissed and threatened to shoot me, Shelly was yelling and stomping around like a drunken soldier, and the rest? Let’s just say my name was no longer Range; it was motherfucker, asshole, cocksucker, and dead man. The yelling and screaming continued for at least twenty minutes all while Clover was trying to calm everyone down by telling them how happy she was and begging and pleading with them to be happy for us, too. The only person who wasn’t causing a ruckus was Mem. He just had a look of boredom on his face like he couldn’t wait to get the fuck outta there and go back to doing his own thing. My woman was getting upset, and I had had enough of this bullshit to last a lifetime. No fucking way was I going to stand by and watch them ruin this moment for my wife and not do anything about it.

  “Hey…everyone just shut the fuck up right fucking now!” I yelled out to the crowd, immediately silencing the next round of outbursts from these high and mighty indignant-acting ingrates. So much for family fucking unity.

  “Come ‘ere, baby.” I motioned for Clover to come to me, so I could wrap my arms around her and protect her from any more of this outrageous bullshit. I had love for everyone standing in this courtyard, but I loved my wife more, and she didn’t deserve this shit.

  “This is my wife, for better or for worse, she is mine. I’m watching her beg and plead with all of you to be happy for us, to congratulate us, and to understand our decision. What do you all do instead? The complete fucking opposite.” I pointed a finger at each and every one of them standing there with their mouths open in shock. Fuck ‘em. This was my woman who was hurting.

  “You shit on her good nature and excitement like a bunch of back-stabbing, crab-acting motherfuckers. Well, no more.” I squeezed Clover tighter as her arms circled my waist and she buried her beautiful face in my chest to hide the tears I knew were falling. I stared them all down once again as I pushed forward past my heated emotions and disgust for my brothers, her family, and my friends.

  “This is my wife I’m holding. Get that shit through your heads right now before any of you say another word to make her feel like shit. We don’t owe any of you a fucking thing. I promised her when we took our vows to love, honor, and cherish her till death do us part, and I’ll be damned if I allow any of you to stand here and beat her down with your hateful words for choosing me as her husband.” I bent down and placed a chaste kiss on top of her head. Just when I was about to pull away, I heard her whisper, “I love you, my husband,” and my soul cried out just a little bit more for my woman. I didn’t deserve her, her goodness, her spirit, but she was mine and I loved her more than life itself.

  “I’ll tell you all right now, fuck your plans, fuck your disappointment, and fuck your fucking payback. You want some of me? I’m standing right the fuck here. You got one chance to learn to act right, or I’m gonna be the one to teach it to ya. Do. Not. Fuck. With. My. Wife. Again. You feel me?”

  “We’re sorry, Range. Truly, we are. I just wished I could have been there to see my baby girl get married, is all. Of course we’re happy for you both, isn’t that right, Denny?” Clover’s mother placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder, and he shook his head in agreement.

  “Welcome to the family, son.” Clover’s father extended his hand to me as a peace offering; he was contrite, as were the rest of them, and so I shook it with gusto. “Hurt my baby girl again, and they’ll never find your body,” he said as he gave me a manly smack on the back to drive his point home.

  It didn’t take long for everyone else to chime in with congratulatory hugs and kisses all around. Clover was all smiles finally as she told everyone how she convinced me to forgo a big wedding and marry her as soon as I could. Her exaggeration of the events made me laugh out loud as I thought about how little it took for me to agree. I would have married her on a Sunday morning, Christmas day after a funeral if she asked me to. She was so damn excited now, bouncing on her little legs, laughing and smiling at our family and friends. This, this was what she deserved.

  “Well…I say it’s time for a celebration!” Ashley chimed in as she hugged her sister tightly.

  “Oh, Ashley, I don’t know. I mean, it’s Tuesday. No one will come out to party on a Tuesday,” Clover told her sister, smiling brightly.

  “Are you kidding? Trust me, oh married one. I still got skills.”

  Chapter 15

  Clover

  I was usually the first one in my family to admit when I was wrong, but even I didn’t predict just how wrong I was when I said no one would come to a Tuesday afternoon party. I wasn’t sure what Ashley did or how she did it, but within an hour, the entire junkyard was packed with so many people they were spilling out onto the road; we even had to turn some people awa
y. Cars, trucks, vans, SUVs, motorcycles, hell, one guy was riding a skateboard when he showed up. We had six grills going at the same time, a bonfire, and a circus tent, all courtesy of my reformed wild child sister, who must have invited the entire town to this shindig. My entire extended family was here, aunts, uncles, cousins, each coming from miles away just to celebrate my wedding…okay, they came for the free booze, but I was happy nonetheless. This was a celebration for the record books.

  Range and I were standing off to the side when my Uncle Joe arrived, minus his wife, of course. They drove in separate cars just in case a fight broke out and my aunt hit him in the head again and left his ass here to find his own way back home, which was what usually happened.

  “Who the fuck gets married on a Tuesday? Where’s the grill I’m taking over?” Uncle Joe kissed me on the cheek and made his way over to the area that was designated for the cooking. I spotted my mother and yelled for her to hurry over to me. Time was of the essence.

  “Mom, Uncle Joe is at the grill. Please go make him move away…fast before it’s too late. Code black, Code black,” I yelled for her.

  “Oh, shit.” She ran in his direction and stopped him just before he reached for a set of tongs. Range had a perplexed look on his face, so I had to fill him in on one of the worst family secrets from the Benjamin side of the family.

  “Um…My uncle has a little problem…with scratching.” I tried to skate over it swiftly, but Range was still clueless, shaking his head as if to say “and?” Fuck my life.

  “Shit…Okay, look, here’s the deal. My uncle likes to scratch his balls and dig in his ass while he mans the grill. I think it’s more out of habit than anything, but I’m not taking any chances. We usually find ways to block him from cooking whenever we have a family gathering. Each of us takes turns to distract him from the stove or grill by calling for a code black.” I spared my husband a glace after my embarrassing confession, and he just lost it. What could I say? You can’t choose your family, and I definitely didn’t choose mine.