Mad Dog’s Old Lady wasn’t around. She was hands off, more and more lately, turning a blind eye to Mad Dog’s wandering one. Me, I would want my old lady to have the cojones to kick me in the nuts if I got out of line like that. I might be an asshole, but if I ever did find someone, I wouldn’t mess it all up screwing around on her with trash like that.
Sam walked over, hips swaying, jeans sitting so low on her hips I could see her thong inches above the waistband.
“Hey, Axe,” she said, her voice a sing-song. She stood close to me, her red lacquered fingernail tracing the seam on my cut. “I missed you, baby.”
“What the hell are you doing here, Sam?” I was done with her. I’d told her as much the other day.
Sam kissed me hard on the lips, and I tasted liquor on her breath. “Baby, you need to take me in the back room.”
“You need to get the hell out of here,” I said. “You’re not welcome.” Even when I said it, I could feel myself getting hard just looking at her. Damn it.
“Don’t be like that, baby,” Sam said. “I’m sorry for what happened.” She pouted. I hated when she did that. Then she leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. “I need you inside me.” She slid her palm against my cock, and I groaned.
“Give me a minute, Sam.” I needed to step back from her, remind myself why I wasn’t with her. She was hot, that was for sure, but she was also crazy. And an addict. And I kept getting sucked into her whirlwind when I was with her. Two days ago, we'd had a blowout, and I was gone. I was. Until she put coke on her nipples and told me to lick it off.
Sam pouted. “Do I have to find someone else?”
Pushing her away, I headed for the bar. “Do whatever you want, Sam. Maybe try going home.”
“You’re such an asshole, Axe.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her flounce to the other side of the room where she joined one of her girlfriends on the couch. I rolled my eyes. Sure, I was horny, but I didn’t need her brand of crazy tonight. I nodded at the prospect behind the bar. “Gimme a bottle of Jack.”
“You want a glass, man?”
“Just the bottle.”
The prospect raised his eyebrows. “One of those days?”
“Shut the fuck up.” He handed me the bottle and I took a swig, savoring the feeling of the alcohol burning on the way down my throat. That was better. “You seen Crunch around here anywhere?”
“Oh yeah, man, I saw him a couple hours ago. Haven’t seen him recently though." Crunch probably wasn't here. He wasn't much for the parties anymore. Having his kid had calmed him down a bit, at least where the fighting and the partying was concerned.
I hoped I’d be that way if I ever had a kid. More mellow.
I took another swig of the whiskey. Some father I’d make.
I caught Sam’s eye across the room, where she’d found the lap of one of the new patches and was giving him a full view of her tits in her tank top.
Christ, Sam knew how to piss me off.
That guy thought he was about to get lucky. He wasn’t.
I took another drag from the bottle, and walked over to her, pulling her by the arm off the new patch.
“Get the fuck off his lap,” I said.
“Come on, man,” the new patch complained as I pulled Sam by the wrist toward a back room. She liked it when I was crazy and possessive, knew what to do to push my buttons. I hated her for that.
I pounded on the door, not waiting for a response before I opened it. Tank was passed out in bed, his pants down, flaccid dick against his thigh. Two girls were sprawled out in bed beside him naked, making out.
“Hey! You can’t just barge in here!”
“Get your shit,” I said, picking up wadded up clothing from the bottom of the bed and tossing it at them. “We’re using the room.”
“We’re busy!”
“I said, get out. And wake him up.” The man roused, shaking his head and mumbling incoherently. “Tank!” I yelled, loud enough for him to hear. “Get the fuck out of here. I need the room.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, tucking his cock back inside his pants and stumbling out with the girls.
Sam wasted no time helping me out of my clothes, and I pushed her up against the wall, forcefully, probably too forcefully. I didn't give a shit if I bruised her or not. Sliding my hand under her shirt, I felt her nipple harden to my touch, and she moaned. I reached into my back pocket for a condom, pausing from kissing her long enough to roll it onto my length before returning my attention to her. She yanked her jeans down over her hips.
Gripping the back of her legs, I lifted her up against the wall, plunging myself into her, my thrusts hard and fierce. She kissed me hungrily, pulling my head against her. I fucked her, not caring if she came or not. It was solely about my own pleasure. Sam liked it rough; she got off on it. When she came, she screamed into my ear, digging her fingernails into my neck. I came right after her, nearly collapsing into her. We stood there for a minute, her legs around my waist.
Sam leaned her head back against the wall, sighing. "Damn, Axe. That was good. You've been holding out on me."
When I let go of her legs, her feet hit the ground, the clank of her heels against the floor loud in the room. I straightened myself, tossing the condom in a nearby trash can. "Maybe if you stopped being so fucking crazy."
"Aw, Axe," she said, buttoning her pants as she sauntered up to me. I didn't know why I did this to myself, hooking up with her. I couldn't stand her. "Why do you have to be so mean, baby?"
"Why do you have to be such a crazy bitch?"
"What do you mean, baby?"
"Crazy, like, throwing a fucking ashtray at my head. Calling me a million times in a row. Shit, you forget you tried to stab me?"
"Axe, that was days ago," she said. "Ancient history. Anyway." Her voice trailed off as she rummaged through her purse. "You want to do a line?"
I sighed when I saw what she was offering. "I don't want to do it anymore. It's too much. And you promised you would stop doing that shit. You've got a kid, for fuck's sake."
She laughed. "You're not my father, Cade. Don't be an asshole."
"Why don't you go home? Is Tyler with the babysitter?" I watched as she bent over the table and came up, holding her nostril.
"Why don't you fuck off? He doesn't need a babysitter. He’s asleep."
“What the fuck are you talking about, Sam?” I asked, grabbing her by the arm, my fingers leaving red welts. “You left that fucking kid home alone? What, are you some kind of psycho?”
“He’ll be fine,” she said, rubbing her nose.
“No fucking way,” I said. “Fuck.” I pushed past her on the way out the door, sliding open my cell phone and dialing Mad Dog's Old Lady. She'd take care of this. “Kate? Sorry it’s so late. Yeah, you too. Need you to do me a favor. You remember Sam? I know, I know, I don’t need a lecture. Need you to run over to her house and keep an eye on her kid. She’s all fucked up.”
~ ~ ~
Present Day
I shook off the memory. Sam had been a low point in my life. Fuck, there was a lot of time in the club that had been a low point. The entire last year had been one giant valley. But that night, with Sam at the clubhouse fucking me and doing coke while her kid slept at home alone? At least that was the last straw, the thing that made get the hell away from her toxic ass.
It didn't get me away from the club though, or out of the bottle. I'd sunk into those as far as I could.
Until now. Until June.
June
Snuggling up under the duvet in my bed, I stretched out, luxuriating in the fact that I didn't have to get up, go anywhere, or do anything. Bailey was out exploring the yard, ecstatic that she had more space than she could ever want to roam. From my window, I could see the expanse of space between Stan's house and mine, the grass glistening with morning dew. This house was the refuge I'd been looking for, even if West Bend was bringing up old memories.
Memories of my family.
Memories of Cade and I.
I wondered when Cade had finally given up on this place.
Back when I was in high school, I never thought I'd leave West Bend. I believed I would stay here forever, that I would grow old in this place. Back then, I thought Cade and I were it. We would be forever. It was a naive idea, blissful teenage unawareness of what the future would hold.
I never anticipated what would happen to my family.
Cade and I belonged together back then. I didn't have eyes for anyone else and neither did he. But how could we? We'd been raised together, in the same church, the same school, same summer camp. It was inevitable we would fall in love.
It was small town love and that was it. Nothing more. We were simply a relationship of proximity.
Cade wasn't the same as the boy I knew. And even if I kept seeing glimpses of that boy, I was mistaken. I had to be.
He was an outlaw now, a criminal. Nothing more.
And anyway, there was Jed. Blue-eyed, blonde haired, All-American appropriate Jed. The cop. A law-abiding, productive member of society.
Not a thug in a leather jacket, tattoos so dense on his arms you could barely see his skin underneath the tangle of inked pictures.
Of course, Jed was not the guy who made me shiver when he stood next to me.
He wasn't the guy whose clothes I wanted to tear off. The guy I wanted to lick every inch of.
But this was what I wanted, wasn't it? A return to a quiet, normal life. And what the hell could be more quiet or normal than running a bed and breakfast in West Bend, and dating the town sheriff?
Anyway, it was just coffee. Not even a date.
I needed to get Cade and Jed out of my head.
I slid out of bed, letting the shower water run while I brushed my teeth. I stepped inside and yelped, scrambling out as quickly as I could. Ice cold.
I let it run for a while. Still cold.
Damn water heater. It was supposed to be fixed when I moved in.
As I threw on clothes, I ran through the options. Having someone come out on a Saturday to take a look at it wasn't going to work.
I could go ask Stan for help.
Or Cade.
No, Cade was the last person I needed to come over here.
When I walked over to Stan's house, MacKenzie was already playing outside, running her little metal cars around in the dirt driveway while April watched her from the porch. “Hi, June!” she said brightly, looking up at me briefly before busying herself with her toys.
“Hey, MacKenzie,” I said.
April stood on the front porch and waved me toward her. “June,” she said. “How are you?”
“Cold. My water heater is on the fritz, I think. I almost took an ice shower,” I said.
“You should have come over here,” April said. “I’m sure no one would have minded."
“Oh, no,” I said. “I wouldn’t want to impose.” Or run into Cade while I was over here, showering. “Is Stan home? Unless you know something about water heaters…”
April shook her head and smiled. “Not at all,” she said. “But Stan’s inside.”
Stan sat at the front table, reading the paper, and peered over the edge at me as I walked inside the kitchen. “Morning, June,” he said. “What brings you over here? I don’t suppose it’s the coffee, is it?”
"Not at all," I said. "I’m actually here to see if you know anything about water heaters. Mine went out this morning.”
“Well, now, that I can help you with,” Stan said. “This old man is still good for something. Give me an hour or so and I’ll come by.”
“Thanks, Stan,” I said. I walked back home, having a hard time deciphering the feeling I had as I walked away. I felt disappointed, but at what, I wasn’t sure. Not seeing Cade? I needed to get past that shit.
An hour later on the dot, Stan showed up, tool belt in hand. “Alright, June,” he said. “Let’s have a look. I showed him to the garage, and sat on the step while he began to work. He tinkered around for a while, and I made idle chit-chat with him while he worked, until he proclaimed it fixed. Afterward, we sat at my kitchen table, drinking coffee.
"I'm glad you came back here, June," he said. "Glad you moved into this old place. It needed someone like you here to breathe new life into it."
"Thanks, Stan," I said. "It's nice settling in here. It's been a long time since I felt settled." Since before my parents died.
"Now, if only you could talk Cade into coming back home."
“Oh, I don’t think my words wield any sort of influence over Cade anymore, Stan.”
He was quiet. “I think you still have more influence over him than you know, June. You always have.”
"That's not true, Stan," I said. "I think Cade does what he wants." And he certainly doesn't have any special regard for what I think.
"This is entirely me speaking out of turn here," Stan said. "But I watched my son carry a torch for you long after you left. I think he joined the Marines to get away from memories."
Memories of me, he meant.
"After you left, he kind of turned back in on himself, like he always did when things got hard," Stan said. "Well, you know how he is."
"Yeah," I said, without even thinking. Well, I knew him back then.
"He thinks I don't understand the path he's on," Stan said, his voice soft. "But I understand more than he thinks. I was in the Navy myself, back in Vietnam, you know. Things were different then. People talked about 'shell shock,' coming back from war different."
"You think that's what happened with Cade?"
"He did all those deployments," Stan said. "Came back different after the second one, the time in Ramadi. Got a Silver Star for it, but wouldn't say a word about it. Got pissed off when anyone tried to ask him about it. Said the Marine Corps should have kept their award. After that, he'd come back to visit between deployments, but it wasn't the same. He doesn't know I know about the nightmares and stuff. I'd hear him at night."
I didn't know what to say. That I understood? I'd been near an explosion. Tangentially involved. I hadn't seen what Cade had seen.
"The mood swings, doing crazy stuff," Stan said. "Dangerous stuff... It was like he didn't care if he lived or died."
Risk-taking behavior, my therapist had called it.
Like sleeping with my boss.
Like Cade joining an outlaw biker gang.
"I deployed with the Marines to Afghanistan," I said. I wasn't sure why I was telling him. "I came back here because I didn't want to do it anymore. Be a surgeon, I mean."
Stan nodded, thoughtful. "Cade's still a good man, June. At heart, I know he is."
Why was he telling me this?
I didn't want to hear that Cade was a good guy.
I didn't say anything.
"That family over there, he's hiding them from something bad," he said. "I know you don't want to put them in jeopardy."
"Of course not." What was he getting at?
Stan nodded. "Mentioning who's staying here, to a cop, wouldn't be a good thing."
Jed.
"I wouldn't do something like that," I said. "Where's this coming from?"
Stan sighed. "I know you wouldn't do anything that would put them at risk. And I figured you had enough common sense to figure out what to say. I'm sorry for butting my nose into this. It's none of my business. I just want to make sure that little girl and her family stay okay."