HOT as F*CK

by Scott Hildreth

  Officially falling in love.

  I moved my hand away from my mouth and mouthed the words. “Thank you.”

  As the waitress walked away Dalton reached into the glass container in the center of the table and removed a pair of chopsticks. After placing them just as I’d shown him into the web of his hand, he reached for the mixture, picked up a piece of chicken, and poked it into his mouth.

  “Impressed,” I said as I clapped my hands together lightly.

  “Good teacher,” he responded.

  After a few more bites with his chopsticks, he rolled another wrap and held it in his hand.

  “We get done here, you think you can just stay at my place tonight?” he asked.

  “I nodded my head, “Sure. No school tomorrow, so I don’t see why not, why?”

  “Well,” he said as he took a bite of the wrap, “After all the fuckin’ and swimmin’ we did earlier, I’m wore out. Thought maybe we could eat, ride to my place, and just lay around in bed naked, you know with our bare skin just touchin’ each other. Maybe fall asleep like that. It’d be nice.”

  And, no differently than Dalton had said earlier, I was done.

  The search was over.

  I had fallen face first and landed in a puddle of love.

  Chapter One Hundred Thirty-Five

  BISCUIT

  There wasn’t too much I enjoyed other than riding, fucking, and fighting. Well, until now. As I attempted to lay still and breathe easily, Kat’s leg was draped over my thigh and her bare chest was pressed against mine. After fifteen minutes or so of me being as motionless as I had ever been, she began to stir.

  As she began to moan, she rolled to the side. Lying flat on her back with her head pointed up at the ceiling, she opened her eyes. Upon realizing where she was, she immediately rolled right back on top of me.

  “Mornin’.”

  “Morning,” she responded.

  After a quick kiss, she ran to the bathroom. A few minutes later she walked into the room, still naked and as beautiful as ever.

  “What day is it?” she asked.

  I gazed at her for a long minute before responding. Her body, hair, skin…everything - was perfect. She was truly a god send. After I cleared my mind of what a fortunate man I was to have her in my life, I responded.

  “Monday,” I responded.

  “And the time?” she asked.

  I glanced at my watch.

  “Almost six,” I responded.

  “Shit. I’ve got to go. I need to get home, take a shower, and go to damned school,” she said as she started picking up her things. “I feel like crap.”

  She quickly pulled on her shorts.

  “Probably wore smooth out,” I said as I rolled off the bed.

  “No, I feel sick,” she responded.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Probably the Mexican food from last night, or hell maybe the Chinese from Saturday?”

  She pulled on her top and grabbed her purse.

  “Maybe. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get,” she said. “Time?”

  I glanced at my watch. “Six straight up.”

  “Shit. Okay,” she said as she leaned toward me.

  After she kissed me on the lips she stood back, stared for a minute, and kissed me again.

  “Miss you already,” she said as she turned toward the door.

  If you had any idea.

  “Miss you,” I said.

  As I watched her Jeep back out of the drive, I realized lying in bed naked with her was my new favorite thing in the world. I had no intention of telling the fellas, or Kat for that matter, but I damned sure couldn’t wait until she came back and we could do it again.

  She was a true one and only.

  And she was mine.

  Chapter One Hundred Thirty-Six

  KAT

  Standing in my bathroom shaking, I stared down at the test I had taken an hour prior, still in absolute shock. The last thing a twenty-two year old girl who has an extremely independent bad boy biker for an almost boyfriend wants to see is a positive pregnancy test – especially nine months prior to her completion of college. I sighed and set the test on the side of the vanity and opened the second test, one capable of telling me the amount of weeks I was pregnant.

  I squatted, peed on the indicator, and waited.

  After a long stressful period of hoping the first test was inaccurate, I opened my eyes and looked down.

  Please…

  The indicator said “3+”. From my interpretation of the instructions, it meant just what I was afraid of – the baby was older than 5 weeks old.

  Fuck.

  My body’s reaction to the birth control I used wasn’t typical nor were my periods. Some months I had one, some months I didn’t, and yet other month’s I had a miniscule period which included light spotting. My most recent period was eight weeks back, and I had dismissed my missed period as nothing more than another month of my not-so-typical periods.

  I had only known Dalton for approximately four weeks, and if the test was accurate, it could only mean one thing.

  The baby would be Kyle’s.

  And it was conceived almost immediately before he went to jail, and after he beat the woman half to death.

  He had come to my home in a drunken stupor, and demanded sex. After refusing him, he slapped me, choked, me, and held me down until I was exhausted. As I cried and whimpered, hoping for him to stop, he had sex with me and promptly left.

  It was the last time we had sex, and I was afraid it was the day the child I carried inside of me was conceived.

  I felt sick.

  I stood, leaned over the vanity, and vomited.

  After a long period of crying, and a longer period of denial, I walked to the living room and called my doctor.

  And afternoon cancellation allowed me to make an appointment forty-five minutes from now, almost the exact amount of time it would take me to drive there.

  I grabbed my purse, tossed my phone inside, and wiped the tears from my cheeks as I stepped out onto the landing.

  There’s no sense in torturing yourself over this until you’re certain, Kat.

  I walked to my Jeep in a daze, trying to figure out what my life was going to become if the child was truly Kyle’s. In my opinion, raising a fatherless child wasn’t an option, nor was abortion. Spending my life with Kyle, however, wasn’t something I could even begin to imagine.

  But if the child was truly his, I felt it was my only option.

  I leaned against the Jeep, pressing my hand against the hot metal as I attempted to prevent myself from collapsing onto the asphalt parking lot. As I stood and waited for my head to clear, my stomach convulsed once again.

  And I vomited between my feet.

  The thought of Kyle made me ill.

  I wanted a life with Dalton, but I seriously doubted the child was his. A life with him which included raising a child wasn’t something I could see happening in the near future.

  As I reached for the door handle, I began to cry again. I closed my eyes, tilted my head toward the sky, and prayed.

  I don’t know what’s best, and you do. All I ask of you is this:

  Do whatever you can to make sure I raise this child safely and to the best of my ability.

  That’s all I ask of you.

  You take care of me, and I’ll take care of the baby.

  I opened my eyes and opened the door, knowing I had done all that I was able. The rest was up to God.

  And the father.

  Chapter One Hundred Thirty-Seven

  BISCUIT

  I had wondered for a large portion of my adult life if anything would ever happen to improve my way of living, thinking, or being. I eventually dismissed the thoughts, convinced the manner I lived my life was as good as I was personally able, therefore life was as good as it would ever become.

  I stood in the living room gazing blankly into the bedroom. My choice of colors for the room never seemed to last more than six weeks at best, but somet
hing about the beige appealed to me. It looked calm, peaceful, and bright – without being over the top.

  I nodded my head, grinned, and turned toward the kitchen. Satisfied my room was just as I wanted it, and my life wasn’t far behind, I walked to the fridge and opened it. An entire shelf of Red Bull’s looked back at me. I reached in, grabbed a yogurt and a Red Bull, and closed the door.

  As I scooped the yogurt from the container and sipped the Red Bull, I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer to the man in charge.

  You and I know I paint that room because it’s the only thing in my life I feel I have control over. If I can look at it and be satisfied, it must mean I’m satisfied with my life. I just want to let you know I appreciate you having Kat and I run into each other.

  I ain’t always been…

  Damn it, I mean ‘I’ve not’. That’s what I meant to say. ‘I’ve not’ always been the best man I could be, but I’m gonna give it an honest shake this time. I like this girl, and while I’m eatin’ my yogurt here, I just need one thing, Boss.

  Help me keep from doin’ dumb shit.

  That’s all I need.

  Amen.

  I finished the yogurt, drank the remaining red Bull, and grabbed one for the road. I stumbled out to the garage, hopped on my bike, and opened the can. As I sat silently on the bike, I slowly sipped the beverage, thinking of how Kat allowed me to feel like it was okay to just be me. Grateful for her being in my life, I began to wish she wasn’t in college, but with me, able to enjoy my life with me on a daily basis. Eight more months and I wouldn’t have to worry about her being in college.

  Anxious to see what the future for us held, I finished the drink, tossed the can in the trash, and started the bike. As the engine warmed up, the exhaust echoed throughout the neighborhood. After a few moments of chuckling to myself about what my neighbors must think of me, I pulled in the clutch and shifted the bike into gear.

  I inched forward, pressed the remote clipped to my fairing, and watched in the rearview mirror as the door slowly closed. After turning up the music to a dull roar, I slowly rolled into the street and stopped.

  Hell, I ain’t done a burn out in longer than I can remember.

  I pulled in the clutch, revved the engine until the rev limiter stopped me, and released the clutch. As the bike’s rear tire began to smoke, the bike inched forward slowly. As the rear tire continued to screech and spin wildly, I realized as soon as it got a little traction I would lurch forward like I’d been shot out of a rocket.

  Within a few seconds, the neighbor across the street stepped onto the porch, pressed his hands to his hips, and shook his head.

  I released the controls with my left hand, waved, and continued to twist the throttle back.

  Smoke bellowed from the rear fender.

  I twisted the throttle a little further.

  And, as the neighbor watched in disgust, I grinned. Working the throttle back and forth, I screeched the tire in a smoky burnout, bellowing smoke from the fender, and leaving a black mark stretching along the street the width of my neighbor’s yard.

  As I continued to grin and twist the throttle, my rear tire exploded into a thousand pieces. Rubber flew from the rear of the bike down the block behind me about a hundred feet. Almost instantly the bike fell six inches to the street and the wheel began to screech on the asphalt.

  I released the throttle and shook my head, knowing not only that I’d ruined the tire, but that I’d possibly damaged my wheel beyond repair.

  I glanced at the neighbor as I shut off the bike. His hands were now on his knees, and he was laughing uncontrollably.

  I might have known what I wanted out of life, but for me to think for one minute that I was anything more than a great big kid would have been an absolute lie. As the neighbor finally caught his breath and stood up straight, I stepped off the bike and attempted to push it back into the garage.

  Pushing the nine hundred pound bike alone on the steel wheel without a tire was almost impossible.

  Within a few seconds of my huffing, puffing, and shoving, the bike began to float easily along the pavement. I glanced over my shoulder. The neighbor was bent over, his hands against my saddlebags, pushing for all he was worth. Within a few minutes, the bike was parked safely in my garage.

  “Appreciate it. I’m Dalton Biskette,” I said as I extended my right hand.

  He chuckled as he reached for my hand. “Quite a show. I’m Randy Devlon. Hell, you’ve lived here for ten years and we’ve never met.”

  He had an average build, roughly six feet tall, with salt and pepper hair that seemed to be out of place for what I would guess to be a man in his latter thirties. Dressed in designer jeans and an untucked dress shirt with loafers, he looked like a desk jockey. .

  “Ain’t never been much on mingling with people I don’t know. Appreciate your help, though, I really do,” I said as I released his hand and gazed down at my bike.

  “I understand. You know, you’ll never know anyone if you don’t mingle. I guess that’s another way to look at it,” he said.

  “Well, stop by sometime, we can have a beer,” I said as I glanced in his direction.

  “I’ll do that,” he said. “Nice meeting you.”

  “Likewise,” I agreed.

  As he turned and walked away, I realized I had lived across the street from him for the ten year period he’d indicated without meeting him. Feeling almost guilty, I turned toward the house and walked into the kitchen. I grabbed a Red Bull from the fridge, opened it, and stared down at the can.

  I was in a half-assed relationship with a woman, for once in my life had no desire to be with another, and had actually met one of my neighbors.

  What the fuck was my life becoming?

  I turned toward the door leading into the garage and opened it. My bike sat on the rear wheel, which was clearly ruined. I tipped the can up and drank half of it. I gazed at the bike. I drank the remainder.

  I tilted my head back and stared up at the ceiling of the garage.

  You’ve got a sense of humor, don’t you?

  I tossed the can in the trash can beside the door, stepped into the garage and gazed out toward the street. Pieces of tire littered the block for a hundred feet in front of my house.

  If anyone was going to keep me from doing dumb shit, it wasn’t going to be God, it was going to be me.

  Well, this new way of living is going to take some getting used, to, that’s for sure.

  Chapter One Hundred Thirty-Eight

  KAT

  Having a friend you truly trust and can count on regardless of what type of situation your life presents is invaluable. Jennifer was that type of friend for me. We didn’t always agree with each other, but I always knew she would be truthful with me about her opinions when so many others might not. As we sat at the coffee shop on College Road and waited for our drinks, she began to look nervous.

  “So what’s the deal, Kat? Why are we meeting here?” she said as she looked around at the various hipsters drinking their mocha-choka-lattes.

  “I don’t know,” I shrugged.

  “Kat!” the barista hollered.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said as I stood from my overstuffed chair.

  I walked to the bar, picked up our two smoothies, and walked back to where we were seated. After handing Jennifer her drink, I sat down and stared at my cup. It resembled a milkshake. I sucked on the straw until some of the frozen beverage escaped into my mouth.

  Holy shit, this is good.

  I nodded my head and raised my cup. “Holy shit, this is good.”

  “So…” she said as she studied her cup of frozen beverage.

  Talking to Jennifer about it would be easier than talking to Biscuit or my parents. I figured if nothing else, discussing it with her would provide me with a little experience. Beginning the conversation, however, is always the hardest part.

  “I’m pregnant,” I said.

  “Excuse me? I thought you said you were pregnant,”
she responded.

  I nodded my head. “I am.”

  She leaned forward in her seat - almost off the front edge. She lowered her hands between her knees as her eyes widened drastically.

  “Holy shit, what are you going to do?” she asked. “What’s Biscuit or whatever his name is going to say?”

  “Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. And before you go ballistic, let me finish,” I said.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “It’s Kyle’s. From when he came over and all but raped me that night after he got arrested. Remember me telling you about that?” I asked.

  “Oh my God,” she gasped as she covered her mouth.

  “What are you going to do?” she whispered.

  I gazed down at the floor and began to explain my intentions. “I’ve already told Kyle. I’m going to do the only thing I can do. We’re getting back together. I’m not going to raise this baby in a fatherless home. I can’t do that to him or her. We’ll just have to work out our differences.”

  “It’ll never work Kat. I hate to say it, but you and I both know it won’t work. He’s mean, abusive, and violent. He’s a douchebag, I’m sorry. He needs help, and it’s not help you can provide,” she paused and sat up in her chair.

  I raised my hand and held it between us. “Please. Don’t say that. I’ve decided it’s what’s right. And, no matter how difficult it is, I’m going to do it. For the baby. Maybe he’ll change once the baby is born.”

  “Maybe,” she said. “But I doubt it. I’m sorry, but I hate him. You’re better than that. And what about your parents? Told them yet?”

  I shifted my gaze from her toward the floor. As my eyes went unfocused, I began to speak. “Well, that’s an entirely different issue. My father will be pissed. Truthfully, he’ll probably be glad it’s Kyle’s and not Biscuit’s. He doesn’t know how violent Kyle was, by the way.”

  “And Biscuit?” she asked.