Hard Corps (Selected Sinners MC #7)

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Hard Corps (Selected Sinners MC #7) Page 13

by Scott Hildreth


  My Saturdays during the summer months had been spent doing whatever the weather permitted, but almost always it was something outside. Now, the only difference was that Katie was present. My time with her was something I enjoyed immensely, and it didn’t seem to matter what it was we were doing, I found it to be pleasant.

  I quickly realized not only was she different than Suzanne, but that I found pleasure in doing things with her I would have never considered with Suzanne. After considerable thought, it was clear to me that what little time I spent with Suzanne was done more out of a feeling of necessity than out of desire.

  I spent time with her because she was my wife.

  Being with Katie wasn’t something that was expected of me, but it was exactly what I wanted.

  “Did you see that movie with Josh Brolin? The one where he found the case full of money?” she asked.

  We were hiking along the Colorado River northwest of the city, and the scenery was beautiful. The river had etched its way through the terrain hundreds of years before we arrived, through the solid rock formations, leaving a sheer rock cliff up one side of the river bank, and a shallow berm on the other. Both sides were lined with trees, rocks, and crevices that made the river perfect for hiking.

  I stepped over a large rock, stopped, and responded to what she had asked me.

  “I haven’t seen a lot of movies, except the recent ones. I’ve got about twelve years of catching up to do. When did it come out?” I asked.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, maybe like six years ago. Dad has it on DVD.”

  “What’s it about?” I asked.

  Dressed in canvas shorts, hiking boots, and a loose-fitting tee shirt, she sat down on a rock ten feet away from where I stood. I stepped back and sat down on the one I had just stepped over. As she situated herself on the rock, I pulled off my pack, set it to the side, and pulled out a bottle of water.

  “Drink?” I asked.

  “Sure,” she said.

  I tossed the bottle into the air, and wondered as it began to fall if she was going to catch it or drop it. As it fell in the space in front of her, she reached out and caught it one-handed.

  “Impressive catch,” I said.

  “Thanks. It’s brutal out here, and I wanted a drink,” she said as she wiped her brow.

  “That it is,” I said.

  It was late in the summer, but unseasonably warm. I had yet to spend an entire summer in Austin, but from what I could see it was considerably warmer than Wichita. I gazed over my left shoulder and toward the drop-off to the river, admiring the deep blue color of the water.

  “Here,” she said as she tossed the bottle of water in my direction.

  Instead of tossing the bottle upward, she tossed it directly at me. Trying to catch it would have made a fool of me, so I rolled my shoulders back and let it slap against my chest. As it fell toward the ground, I reached down and caught it in my right hand.

  “Yeah, that’s not going to happen here,” she said with a laugh as she stuck her chest out. “These things are like huge pillows.”

  Katie was tall, probably five-foot ten or a little more, thin, and had an extremely large chest for her size. In believing she was probably self-conscious about her breasts, I had yet to mention them one way or another, and did my utmost not to ever stare. Apparently, however, the size of them was a subject she didn’t mind joking about.

  “Probably not. You’ll need to work on your hand-eye coordination. So what about the movie?” I asked as I unscrewed the lid from the bottle of water.

  “Okay, Josh Brolin. He plays a guy that’s maybe kind of like you. Maybe a little bit. The movie didn’t say, but you get an idea that he’s former military. It starts out, and he’s out in the middle of nowhere hunting. He shoots an antelope, and while he’s tracking it in the scope of his rifle, he scans across a bunch of abandoned trucks and SUVs. And there’s dead guys all laying around,” she paused and stretched her arms wide.

  “So, he searches the vehicles and finds a ton of heroin. He leaves the dead men…wait…all but one is dead. So he leaves the dead men except for one who’s alive, and goes home. The next day he goes back and the almost dead guy is under a tree right beside the place where they were shot. He walks up to the guy, and now he’s dead, just like the others. And, he’s clutching a case with two million bucks in it. So he takes the money and leaves him there.”

  “So, before I tell you the rest of the story, would you take the money?”

  I didn’t even need to think about it. “Nope.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Really?”

  “I live in a black and white world. It’s either right or it’s wrong. That’s stealing. It’s wrong. I guarantee you, that money was intended for someone, and they’d not only want it, but need it. Even if the reason behind it was dope, it’s part of the cycle of life for that group of people. And for that group of people, the money would buy more dope, which would eventually get more bad guys killed, and the cycle would continue until the end. But no, I wouldn’t take it,” I explained.

  “Wow,” she said. “I ask everyone. And so far, everyone I’ve asked would take it.”

  I found it interesting she would ask everyone such a question. Now it was my turn.

  “Would you?” I asked as I held the bottle of water up.

  She shook her head. “Oh hell no.”

  “Hell no on the water or hell no on the money?” I asked.

  “No on the water, and hell no on the money,” she said.

  “Why not?” I asked. “They’re all dead. Dead men don’t talk. It’d change your life.”

  She reached back with both hands and adjusted her ponytail as she glared at me. After shaking her head and satisfying herself it was as she wanted it to be, she responded.

  “Damned right it’d change my life. For the worse. Karma. Or whatever you want to call it. If you do bad stuff, bad things happen to you. If you do good things, good things happen to you. I’m not interested in doing bad, being bad, however you want to look at it,” she said.

  “Good to know,” I said.

  “You know, in Baghdad there were several Marines who happened onto a lot of gold. I mean a lot. So, quite a few of them tried to ship it home in drums and boxes and however they could devise a way they thought would work. And every one of them got caught. Every damned one. And they were all sent to prison. Money makes people greedy. I’d much rather be poor and happy,” I said.

  “Same here,” she said. “I’m glad you said you wouldn’t take the money.”

  “I lead a simple life. You know what? As much as I’ve been through, and as much hatred and killing as I’ve seen, I still live every day happy. Some are tougher than others, but every day above ground is a good day,” I said.

  “I agree,” she said as she stood. “Are you ready?”

  I didn’t have to convince myself I enjoyed my time with Katie. For once, I felt that I was truly where I should be, and I didn’t have to worry about how I acted or reacted to situations. She seemed to accept me as I was, without explanations or excuses. It was refreshing to think a woman was interested enough in who I was to accept me without reservation.

  I shoved the bottle of water in the pack, pulled it over my shoulder, and stood from my rather comfortable rock.

  “You want to follow the river?” she asked as she pointed along the exposed edge of the cliff.

  “Sure,” I responded.

  As she began to walk along the rock formation I adjusted my pack. A few more steps toward her, and she froze.

  “Alec…” she whispered as she raised her hands in the air.

  “What?”

  “Rattlesnake,” she whispered.

  She no more than spoke, and I could hear the rattling of the snake’s tail. As far as we were from the truck, and as long as it would take for us to get to a hospital, the possibility of dying was pretty probable if one of us were bitten.

  Fuck.

  Standing behind her and with
the snake in front of her, I couldn’t see it, but I could hear it, and it didn’t seem to be interested in going away. It wasn’t uncommon in the latter part of the summer when the days began to shorten and the nights became cooler for rattlesnakes to lie on rocks and absorb the warmth. When startled, they coiled, raised their heads, and prepared to strike at whatever they thought was a threat.

  But in all actuality, the snake was just as scared as the human.

  “How close?” I asked as I began to quietly make a large sweeping circle around where she stood.

  “Five feet,” she whispered.

  “Don’t move,” I said as I walked around her.

  “Alec…” she whispered.

  “Don’t worry,” I said.

  As I walked past her, I saw the snake. Easily four or more feet long, it was one of the largest rattlesnakes I had ever seen. Coiled and prepared to strike, there was no doubt if it felt threatened any more than it already did, it could bite her from its current position. I circled around her, stepped behind it, and stood still.

  “Don’t move,” I whispered as I silently snapped a branch from the mesquite tree beside me.

  She nodded her head.

  One carefully placed step at a time, I approached the back of the snake, holding the stick in front of me for protection. When I was close enough to touch it, I lowered the tip of the branch onto the rock surface behind the snake’s back.

  I pressed the stick against the stone ledge, making a scraping sound with each stroke. The snake quickly turned toward me, coiled, and struck at the stick.

  “Walk away,” I said flatly as I continued to distract the snake.

  She turned and walked away, toward the rock where I was seated earlier. After taunting the snake for a few more seconds, I dropped the stick and walked toward her.

  Standing beside the rock staring down at the ground, it was obvious the encounter with the venomous snake had her rather upset. As I stepped in front of her, she reached out and wrapped her arms around me. I pulled her against me, held her tight, and I could feel her body trembling.

  I leaned back and pulled my chest away from her. Her eyes were fixed on the ground between us. Slowly, I reached out, lifted her chin, and gazed into her eyes. They were filled with fear, and it was genuine. Although I couldn’t always comfort those with fear-filled eyes I had seen in the past, there was something I could do for her.

  It was something I wanted to do, but had not yet attempted. With our eyes locked on each other, I lowered my mouth to hers and kissed her.

  Her soft lips pressed against mine, kissing me fully, passionately, and perfectly. As we embraced, our hands fumbled to find the perfect place to land, each of us positioning them in a location making the kiss even more flawless than it already was.

  It was the first time I had kissed her, but it seemed to be my first kiss ever. Later, I decided it was. For that moment, it was the only kiss in my life that mattered, and I wanted it to never end. Throughout the embrace, she was slowly transforming me from a man with very little emotion into a man whose mind was opening into a sea of possibilities.

  If a simple kiss had the ability to allow a person to see the compatibility of a prospective partner – and I did believe that to be the case – it was immediately apparent Katie and I were not only compatible, but placed on this earth to be kissing one another.

  The kiss was long, passionate, and exactly what I felt I needed. When our lips eventually parted, she said two simple words. Simple, but more effective than anything else she could have said to convince me both of our lives were clearly in order.

  “Don’t stop,” she breathed.

  And I didn’t.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Late summer 2014, Austin, Texas, USA

  It had been a month since Katie and I started dating, and our time together was always enjoyable. Ripp and Shane shocked the family three-weeks prior, announcing simultaneously that their wives were pregnant. I couldn’t have been happier for either of them, and was excited for the day to come when their children arrived. In my opinion, no one was more excited than Katie’s father, who was having a hard time hiding not only his excitement, but his naturally protective nature of those he loved.

  He pulled his fork from his mouth and wagged it toward Ripp. “You need to give that woman some space, Mike. You’re crowding her. Inch over and give her some damned room.”

  I shifted my eyes toward Ripp. Sitting in his wife beater, covered in muscles, and littered from head to toe in tattoos, he probably didn’t appear to be a soon-to-be father by all of those who saw him, but I knew where his devotion lied.

  He lifted his head from the piece of chicken he was eating, glanced toward his father, and glared.

  “The table ain’t shrunk since we was all here last has it, Dekk?” Ripp asked as he stared at his father.

  Shane looked up from his plate. “Not that I know of.”

  “A-Train, table seem smaller to you?” he asked without shifting his eyes from his father.

  My assigned position at the table had changed from being seated beside Ripp to across the table between Manda and Katie. I peered over the table toward him and shook my head.

  “Same size,” I responded.

  Still staring at his father, and his father steadily staring back, Ripp released his piece of chicken dramatically and tossed his hands into the air as his chicken fell to his plate.

  “How in the hell can I be crowdin’ her when we’re all sittin’ in the same spots we’ve always sat in, Pop?” he growled.

  “She needs more damned room,” his father growled in return. “She got one in the oven.”

  “It’s the size of a damned piece of rice,” Ripp said as he reached for his piece of chicken. “And Vee’s fine, aren’t you, Vee?”

  “I’ve got plenty of room,” she said.

  His father shook his head. “A piece of rice? Where in the Sam Hill do you get your information? That kid’s the size of a damned orange.”

  Ripp sighed loudly, lowered his piece of chicken from his mouth and let it dangle from his fingertips. “Internet, Pop. Maybe you heard of it.”

  “Oh, Lord. You can’t go believing everything you read on that damned interweb” he said as he glanced down at his plate and began to eat.

  “It’s true, Mr. Ripton. Rice baby. I’ve looked,” Kace said.

  Mr. Ripton raised his head, turned toward Kace, and lowered his chin. “Is that a fact? Never would have guessed it.”

  Ripp glanced at Kace, shook his head, and shifted his eyes to his father.

  “So Kace says it and it’s a fact. I say it and I’m an idiot?” Ripp howled.

  “You are an idiot. Rice baby or not, you’re a damned fool, Mike. Now, eat your chicken,” his father said with a gesture from the tip of his fork.

  “Don’t call Michael an idiot, it isn’t nice,” Mrs. Ripton said.

  I grinned and glanced around the table. Everyone in attendance acted as if this was typical, and from what I had seen of the dinners at the Ripton residence, it was quite normal for the family to act in the manner they were acting. Vee rarely spoke unless spoken to, and Shane never said a word unless asked a question or paying Mrs. Ripton a compliment on the food. Manda, Ripp and Katie’s sister, seemed to have a hidden agenda, and attended the meals only to eat, never saying a word one way or another.

  Ripp cleaned the meat from the bone he was chewing on and tossed it aside. “You need to treat everyone at this table the same, Pop.”

  “I do,” his father said without glancing up from his meal.

  “Don’t either,” Ripp responded. “I said rice baby, and I’m a damned fool. Kace said rice baby and you said is that a fact. Be fair. I’m not a damned fool, and stop calling me one. I’m excited about this baby.”

  “So am I, Michael,” his mother said.

  “So am I,” his father said with a hint of love in his eyes. “But you’re a damned fool, baby or no baby. And I call ‘em as I see ‘em.”

 
“Like a fuckin’ umpire, now, huh? Now you’re a god damned umpire, callin’ ‘em like you see ‘em?” Ripp snarled playfully.

  Katie gripped my leg slightly above my knee and squeezed, causing me to jump, hitting my leg on the bottom of the table.

  “Michael Allen. Not. At. The. Table,” his mother said as she looked up from her meal.

  “Sorry, Ma,” Ripp said.

  Kace turned toward Ripp and cleared her throat to get his attention. “If we’re treating everyone the same, why do you always say Shane is kissing your mother’s rear end when he compliments her on the meal, and you never say the same to Alec?”

  Ripp turned toward her and furrowed his brow. “Dekk’s the all-time biggest ass kisser ever. A-Train’s just sayin’ when he likes something. It’s different,” Ripp explained.

  “Nicknames, Michael,” his mother said.

  “I can’t win,” he said.

  Ripp reached for the platter of chicken. After digging through the platter and tossing each piece of chicken to the side without actually taking a piece, his father looked up, tilted his head to the side, and widened his eyes. Still tossing pieces of chicken left and right as if looking for the perfect piece, Ripp didn’t notice his father’s glare.

  “What in the hell are you doing, fingerin’ all the damned chicken? Nobody’s going to eat it now, who knows where those damned hands have been?” his father snarled.

  “I know where they been, and they’re clean,” Ripp said without looking up.

  Ripp turned toward his mother. “You buy breastless chickens, Ma?”

  She shook her head. “Two per chicken, just like always.”

  “No extras?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “It was before the football game, and they were out.”

  He pushed his chair from the table and crossed his arms in front of his chest, like a child throwing a fit.

  After a few long seconds of no one caring about his act of defiance, he cleared his throat. “Where the hell did you go?”

  “HEB, just like always,” she said.

  “Eat a damned thigh,” his father said, pointing to the platter of chicken with his fork. “Thighs are good.”

 

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