“Sorry,” he said.
“Tell her why you’re sorry,” I said.
“I uhhm. I’m sorry. I was. I’m sorry I was disrespectful,” he said.
“Will it ever happen again?” I asked.
“No, it won’t happen again,” he said.
“Bug?” I asked over my shoulder.
She walked up behind me and rested her chin on my shoulder as she pressed her chest against my back. “Yes?”
“Satisfied?” I asked.
“Very,” she whispered into my ear.
I released my grip. Randy stumbled, almost fell to the asphalt, and was helped up by his humiliated friends.
“You’ll feel funny for a minute or two, but you’ll be fine,” I said jokingly as his friends helped him walk away.
With her chest still pressed into my back, Katie breathed into my ear. “That was so awesome. What did you do to his neck?”
“Knife hands,” I said with a laugh.
“Knife what?” she asked, grazing her hand over my cheek as she spoke.
I glanced toward Ripp, fully enjoying Katie’s playful nature, but concerned he might not feel comfortable with her acting the way she was.
He returned a smile.
“I’ll show you some time. It’s a good way to gain control of a situation,” I replied to her.
“Vee’s got a stomach ache. We need to get the hell out of here. It’s been a long day,” Ripp said.
“You’re full of it, Ripp,” Kace said. “We know what you’re going to do.”
“Well, you guys do whatever it is you want to. It’s still early. But we’re leaving. I need to make up for some lost time. Austin?” Ripp said.
“Yeah, Boss?” Austin responded.
“Look after Manda until the night’s over,” Ripp said.
“Got it, Boss,” Austin responded.
Katie continued to hang on my shoulders.
Ripp shifted his eyes from Austin to me. Vee hung on his shoulders, clearly imitating Katie.
“A-Train…”
“Semper fi,” I responded with a wave.
And I meant it.
Regardless of what Katie asked, did, or attempted to do, I would stay faithful to my friend Ripp.
I was just worried how long I would be able to keep it up if my interest in her continued to grow at the rate it had been for the entire night.
Only time would tell, I supposed.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Summer 2014, Austin, Texas, USA
We sat and shared a pizza at an all-night pizza joint. Not my favorite food by any means, and definitely not something I would have chosen to eat so late at night; but considering the circumstances, it was a pleasant change.
“I wish the world was full of people like you,” she said.
I held the folded slice of pizza in my hand and watched as the grease from the pepperoni ran down my arm to my elbow. “Believe me, you don’t.”
I reached for a napkin and wiped my forearm clean of the grease, shaking my head and laughing as I did so.
“Why?” she asked. “You’re one of the good guys.”
In the middle of taking a bite of pizza, I shook my head. “I’ve got good intentions, but it doesn’t make me one of the good guys.”
“You and Ripp are a lot alike. He acts all mean, but he’s a big softie. He likes to fight, but he doesn’t beat people up for no reason. Dad says he fights to keep his day-to-day anger at a manageable level. I think he’s right. But when people are mean to other people or do things that aren’t right, Ripp steps in and beats them up. He thinks he’s teaching them a lesson. He’s done it since he was little,” she said.
I had never considered fighting as a means of anger management, but it made perfect sense. Katie’s explanation of Ripp’s stepping in when he felt he needed to teach someone a lesson sounded exactly like me. I often felt the need to place myself in a situation most men would perceive as none of their business, only to attempt to teach someone my perception of what was right.
I was quite sure, however, that my general means of resolution, however, might differ from his considerably.
“Well, it does sound like we’re a lot alike, but I don’t think the world needs to be full of people like me,” I said as I took another bite of pizza.
I did my best to stay focused on the food, and not spend as much time staring at her as I did at the dinner we had earlier in the night. Not admiring her was more difficult than I would have imagined, and I attributed my fascination with Katie to my lack of exposure to females in general since my having divorced Suzanne.
“I do,” she said.
She gazed beyond me and appeared to be in deep thought. As she sat there obviously focused on something, I admired everything from her hands to her choice of clothes. Wearing a baseball tee with the word baseball across the front, a pair of jeans, and sneakers, she looked not only comfortable, but adorable.
After a moment, she shifted her eyes toward mine, and caught me in the middle of my admiration. As I shifted my embarrassed eyes to my lap, she began to speak.
“You know, how God puts everything on this earth for a reason. Not everyone sees the reason, but I don’t think most people take the time to really think about it. A centipede, for instance. Most people are repulsed by them. They think they’re gross and wonder why they’re even here. The same with spiders. But God has everything on earth for a reason. So, the spider is here for many reasons, one of which is to feed the centipede. And, the centipede? It’s a staple in the diet of many lizards. The centipede relies on the spider, and the lizard is dependent on the centipede. And, at some point, a hawk, incapable of finding another source of food, swoops down and eats the lizard. At some point, a bobcat catches and eats the hawk, only to be later killed and eaten by a wolf.”
She sounded like a biology professor explaining a theory, but it made perfect sense. I shifted my eyes upward. “The food chain.”
She nodded her head and smiled. “You’re here for a reason. You’re necessary in God’s eyes. Some people on this earth are like the spider or the centipede. And they need eaten. And you’re the wolf. You’re necessary,” she said with a smile.
She had an odd way of putting things into perspective, but so far, I liked what she was saying. She reminded me all too much of myself, and her way of thinking about things was almost identical to mine. I didn’t like being compared to the lizard, but for the time being, I decided it was okay. I did wonder, if her analogy was accurate, who ate the wolf?
“So, what eats me? Who eats Alec Jacob? Where does it end for me?” I asked.
Life, I guess.
She took a bite of crust, shrugged her shoulders, and chewed it for a moment as she thought. I took another bite of the pizza and waited for her to think about my question while I did the same.
Her personality was, at least for me, very inviting. She was beautiful, but seeing her without the distraction of her family present made her much more attractive than her looks alone. Watching her eat, drink, and even talk was fascinating to me, and as I sat and watched her think while she ate her crust, I tried desperately to determine why I was so interested in her.
“Life, I guess,” she said.
Perfect answer.
I nodded my head and swallowed the bite of pizza. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“I guess if the world was full of people like you, we’d have no bad guys. And I suppose we’ll always need to have a few bad guys,” she said.
I laughed out loud and dropped my pizza to my plate. “Why would we need bad guys?”
“To justify having guys like you around,” she said with a grin.
“Vicious cycle,” I said as I reached for my pizza.
I felt like I was in high school again. Not because of her age, but because of the innocence I felt sitting with her. I felt no pressure, no need to act in any way in particular, and extremely comfortable – with the exception of being overly excited about being there with her.
Sitting there with her made me feel as if I was preparing to gather the courage to ask a date to the prom. Crossing my legs repeatedly, only to find no real comfort in doing so, and rubbing my hands together repeatedly were tell-tale signs of my excitement. I didn’t once try to hide my feelings or the signs of them, only smiled each time I noticed I was doing something contrary to my norm.
It was a nice change.
“So, are you...you’re single, right?” she asked.
“As single as they come,” I said with a nod.
She smiled and her eyes fell to my chest. After a second or two she lifted them to meet my gaze. “How?”
“My choice, I suppose,” I said flatly. “I went through a divorce after I got back from the war. My wife wasn’t quite faithful. I tried to fix it, and thought I could fix it, but in the end, she wasn’t willing to stay faithful, so I left.”
“And you were faithful?” she asked.
“Absolutely. I don’t take things like commitment lightly. It’s a promise, or at least it is to me. That’s the way I see it,” I said.
She narrowed her eyes. “She cheated on you?”
“She sure did,” I responded.
“Wow,” she said. After a second or two of silence, she shrugged her shoulders. “Sorry.”
“Glad it’s over now, and glad we didn’t have kids, I guess. Not that I don’t want any, just glad I didn’t have any with her,” I said.
Her mouth formed a smile large enough to expose her extremely white teeth. “You like kids?”
I nodded my head. “Love ‘em.”
She focused on me for a minute, dropped her eyes to the table, and after a few seconds, cleared her throat. “But. I mean. You’re like. You’re just. Well, you’re not the typical single guy.”
I chuckled. “What’s the typical single guy?”
“A douchebag,” she said with a laugh.
“Well, I’m not one of those,” I responded.
She coughed a laugh and reached for her glass of tea. “No, you’re sure not.”
“And you. You’re single?” I asked.
I was pretty sure she was, but not positive. Thinking of a girl like her being single was almost impossible to imagine.
She lowered her glass. Her eyes went wide as her mouth curled into a smile. Almost as if she realized she was outwardly expressing her excitement, she tried to shake off the smile, but didn’t quite succeed.
She wiped her mouth and nodded her head. “Sure am.”
I grinned and nodded my head, expecting she’d expand on her answer.
After a few minutes of fidgeting in her seat, she gazed down at the table and once again seemed to fade off into deep thought. In an effort to not get caught again, I shifted my eyes from my remaining pizza to her and back repeatedly, finding something about her with each glance that I enjoyed.
“I don’t know what Ripp told you about the guy he was in court about,” she said as she glanced upward. “The guy he uhhm. You know, the guy he killed.”
I shook my head as I wiped my hands on my napkin. “Nothing, really. I just know he did something to you, and then when Ripp confronted him, he pulled a gun.”
“Well, it was a long time ago, really, but the guy and I were hanging out, you know. And, after a while, it got serious. So, as far as sex went, he knew I was saving myself for the right man, and I didn’t know if he was that man. So, uhhm, we never had sex.”
I admire you even more.
“That’s admirable,” I said.
“It was,” she said.
No, don’t tell me…
“I have no idea why I’m telling you this, but…” she paused and shifted her eyes up from her plate and gazed beyond me.
I was afraid I didn’t want to hear what she had to say.
“We were seeing each other, and he knew…he knew that I was…you know, that I was a virgin. I told him no, but…he uhhm…he forced himself on me…”
She paused and shifted her eyes to meet mine. I raised my hand and shook my head, she didn’t need to continue.
But she did.
“He uhhm…he raped me,” she said.
I filled with rage. The thought of anyone raping a woman infuriated me. I felt like digging up his grave and beating his corpse to an absolute pulp. It was a good thing Ripp had broken his neck, because if he hadn’t, no jury would have found me not guilty of anything. I fought against my inner self and tried to be calm.
I whispered a raw apology. “I’m sorry.”
She pursed her lips and gazed past me as she nodded her head. “Me too. It happened almost a year ago. I’ve gone to a ton of therapy, and it helped me accept some things. I didn’t tell anyone about it at first, and really never planned to. It really bothered me. So, I told Manda, and she told me to go to therapy. It helped a lot, but it still bothered me. Then one day at dinner, long after it happened, I just lost it.”
I sat and stared at her blankly, not really knowing what to say, if anything.
“So I’m not a virgin anymore and it sucks. You know, having it taken from me like that,” she said.
I didn’t dispute that she was raped, but I didn’t necessarily agree with her thoughts on the matter of her losing her virginity. I had previously considered the exact same scenario, when a friend’s cousin was raped.
“As far as I’m concerned, you’re still a virgin,” I said.
She narrowed her eyes and stared. “How?”
“Well, it’s just a theory, but hear me out,” I said.
She nodded her head. “Okay.”
“A person is with a guy who commits murder, but doesn’t know going into it that he’s going to do that, and has no knowledge it was going to happen. Does that make the bystander a murderer?” I asked.
“No,” she said with a slight grin.
“Had he murdered?” I asked.
“The second guy?” she asked.
I nodded my head.
“No, I guess not,” she said.
“If you go golfing with a friend, say just to watch him play a round, and he golfs, but you don’t participate, you’re just there riding in the cart, when the round is over, have you ever golfed?” I asked.
She smiled even more. “No.”
“He may have raped you. But you haven’t had sex. Does that make sense?” I asked.
She stood from her seat.
I wiped my hands and stood. With her blue eyes fixed on mine, and mine clearly glued to hers, she walked around the edge of the table. Without speaking, she opened her arms. As odd as it seemed to be hugging her, for whatever reason, it felt more right than anything I had done in a long, long time. As she wrapped her arms around me and held me against her, she rested her chin against my shoulder.
Once again, I inhaled a hint of her soft perfume. I closed my eyes, pleased I could help her see things slightly differently.
“Thank you,” was all she said.
And it was all I needed to hear.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Summer 2014, Austin, Texas, USA
I quickly found myself in a place I hadn’t expected to be, feeling in a way I hadn’t anticipated feeling, and confronted with a situation I was awkwardly excited about. For a man who planned everything from the exact moment I got up in the morning to what my meals were going to be a week in advance, and everything in between – including how many of my tee shirts were in each stack in my dresser – I felt a strange sense of comfort.
Katie talked to Ripp about her desire to have me take her on a date, and although I wish she would have let me be the first to talk to him, I accepted not everything in life would always be in my control. I did talk to Ripp at length following their discussion, and was relieved to find out he trusted me with his sister.
One more stop and I was home free to take her on an actual date.
I took a breath and knocked on the door twice. I had always looked at a doorbell as a lazy way of knocking, and I was far from being a lazy man. I waited nervously with my hands at my si
des for the door to open.
He opened the door slightly, recognized me, and smiled. “Alec, how are you?”
“I am well, Sir, thank you,” I responded.
“Come in,” he said as he opened the door fully.
As I followed him into the house I realized this was something I had only done a few times in my life. As simple as a date may seem to most men, to me it was a tremendous commitment, and something I certainly didn’t take lightly. For me to ask a woman on a date, I had to see the possibility of a future relationship with her. I realized a date was simply that – an event on a specific day where two people chose to spend time together – and that there were no assurances, but if I didn’t feel the potential existed for a long-term relationship, I wouldn’t even ask.
“So, what’s the occasion,” he said over his shoulder as he walked toward the living room.
“Well, Sir, I’d like to speak to you about your daughter,” I responded as I followed him into the room.
“Have a seat,” he said as he sat down in the recliner positioned in the corner of the room.
He wasn’t as big of a man as Ripp, but he was close. It was easy to see that in his prime he would have been an intimidating figure. Although he wasn’t attempting to terrorize me, he was doing a good job of making me nervous. As I chose the seat next to him, I placed my hands in my lap, turned to face him, and smiled.
Smiling was something that I did infrequently, and many people often assumed I was angry at all times. My face permanently etched with a stern look and my walk filled with Marine Corps attitude, it was easy to assume I was a man who was rarely happy.
Most of the time I was happy, just not happy enough to share my feelings with the outside world.
He fixed his eyes on mine and chuckled a light laugh. “I’m guessing when you all went out the other night you had fun. The girls said it was a pretty good time. Hell, you never know with girls, they’ll tell you whatever you want to hear, won’t they, Son?”
“Yes, Sir, I’m sure that’s a true statement,” I nodded.
He raised his hand to his chin and rubbed the slight growth of beard on his face. “So what’s the problem? Did one of them act up the other night?”
Hard Corps (Selected Sinners MC #7) Page 11