Hard Corps (Selected Sinners MC #7) Read online

Page 18


  Kelsey began to walk out of the locker room, noticed Austin walking in that direction, and quickly turned toward the door. As I watched him hustle back into the locker room, I laughed to myself.

  Going to give him some pointers, Old Man?

  Shane had earned almost 50 million dollars for winning the fight, and Kelsey made enough to make his life slightly easier to live than it had been in the past. The money, however, would never change either of the men regarding the sport itself, they enjoyed it far too much.

  I walked toward the locker room and stood beside the door waiting on Austin to come out. Kelsey’s unmistakable voice echoed from the concrete room.

  “Keep that chin tucked, Kid. You’re going to lose it if you’re not careful. And turn that skinny little body of yours when you’re on your heels, it’s a smaller target,” he growled.

  Sounds familiar.

  “You got it, Boss,” I heard Austin say.

  “Now listen to me,” Kelsey said. “Whatever that Marine tells you, you listen to him. He’s a good man, and he’ll lead you to a championship if you let him.”

  Filled with a newfound pride and a slightly inflated state of being, I walked toward the ring, proud that Kelsey felt my abilities were sufficient. I realized I was good at almost everything I devoted time to, but I rarely received recognition from anyone for anything I had ever done. As I gathered up the wet towels from around the ring, I swelled with pride.

  I turned toward the dirty rag bin and tossed the towels inside. As I glanced up Kelsey walked by, flipping me the bird as he passed.

  I didn’t say a word, at least not out loud.

  Thank you, Old Man.

  I won’t let you down.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Late Winter 2015, Austin, Texas, USA

  The day was unseasonably warm, and I was glad to be riding the motorcycle. A thirty-minute ride had the ability to transform my mind to another place altogether, and allow me to release things I would never be able to let go without it.

  It seemed the nation’s perception of a man in Levis and boots riding a Harley was one of drinking, fighting, and the commission of crimes. From what I had learned of bikers – and I had been exposed to all walks of biker life – the exact opposite was true.

  Bikers were the first to stop and lend a helping hand, the last to resort to violence without a reason, and although they were quick to protect their brethren, they typically didn’t do so with any more force than was necessary to do so.

  As I sat at the traffic light one block away from my destination, the woman beside me in the minivan stared straight ahead at the traffic light, seemingly petrified in fear of what may happen if she glanced in my direction.

  In the back seat, her children waved and made faces.

  I grinned at the children, stuck out my tongue, and waved one last time before pulling in the clutch as the light changed from red to green.

  I pulled into the driveway, shut off the engine, and let the bike coast to a stop. After a short emotion-filled hesitation, I tossed my leg over the bike and walked to the porch.

  On my third knock, the door opened.

  “I heard you half way up the street. I didn’t think any of those damned things were louder than Mike’s, but yours sure is. Got a distinct sound, too. Come on in, Son.” he said as he opened the door.

  “So, you called and said to get the pack of cigarettes ready. What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Can we go out onto the back deck?” I asked.

  “Hell, we can go anywhere you like, Son. This is just as much your home as it is anyone’s,” he responded with a light laugh.

  “You go on out there, and I’ll grab those smokes,” he said as he turned toward his bedroom.

  I walked out onto the deck, glanced around the back yard, and inhaled a long slow breath through my nose. As I opened my mouth and tilted my head back, he opened the door to the deck. I exhaled and turned toward him.

  “Great day, Sir,” I said.

  “Sure is. Damned near eighty degrees. Spring is almost upon us,” he said as he handed me the pack of cigarettes.

  Since I gave them to him, I had been back on three occasions. I took one from the pack, reached into my pocket, and removed my lighter. As I flipped the lighter between my fingers and toyed with the cigarette, he sat down in the chair beside me.

  “Now I’m gonna guess because you’re here and you’re wanting a smoke that this is a tough day for ya, Son. Just what’s going on?” he asked.

  I sat down across from him, flipped the cigarette into my mouth, and bit into the cotton filter. As I clenched it lightly in my teeth, I shifted my eyes toward the large maple tree in the corner of the yard. I imagined each of his children attempting to climb the tree as they grew old enough to reach the lowest of the branches. I laughed to myself, took another breath of courage, and turned to face him.

  I had no way of knowing how he was going to react to what I had to say, but I’d never been one to sugar-coat subjects or dance around the truth. There was one way and one way only to do what it was I came to do, and spitting out what I had to say was a far better alternative than chewing on it.

  I raised the lighter to the tip of the cigarette, lit it, and inhaled a long pulled deep into my lungs. As the smoke from the stale cigarette burned my lungs, I fought not to cough. I tilted my head to the side, exhaled, and took another long drag, watching the paper burn as I mentally prepared to speak.

  “Well, I’ll tell you,” I said as I exhaled the smoke toward the yard.

  The deck was concrete, covered, and a very peaceful place to sit. I found it quite relaxing, and although Katie and I often used the space for relaxation and make-out sessions, the remainder of the family rarely came out onto the deck.

  “I have a question for you,” I said.

  “Something’s eatin’ ya, I can see that. What happened?” he asked.

  “Nothing happened,” I said as I leaned forward, resting my forearms onto my thighs.

  I fixed my eyes on his, swallowed, and said what I came to say.

  “I’ve got something I feel like I need to do, and although I’m not planning on doing it for a while, I need to see if it’s acceptable to you before I make any plans to do it,” I said.

  I was clearly beating around the bush.

  He narrowed his eyes and stared, revealing the wrinkles beside his eyes that generally remained hidden. “Well, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what it is, Son. Say what you’ve come to say, and we’ll go from there,” he said.

  Katie’s mother carried out two glasses of tea, handed them to us, and turned toward the house without speaking a word. As the door slid open, she spoke over her shoulder.

  “Good afternoon, Alec,” she said. “It’s sure nice to see you.”

  “Good afternoon, Ma’am. And likewise.” I responded as I raised the glass of tea to my lips.

  I lowered the glass to the table, shifted my eyes to the cigarette, and then to Mr. Ripton.

  Just say it, Jacob. Say it quickly

  I locked my eyes on his. “I’d like to ask your permission to marry your daughter.”

  His eyes widened slowly as his mouth curled into grin. “Well, I’ll be go to hell. That’s what’s eatin’ you?”

  I nodded my head. “It’s not something I want to do right away, and I’ll know for sure when the time is right, but I don’t want to plan on doing it without your getting approval first.”

  At some point in time, the application of traditional values escaped the minds and lives of the residents of the nation, and although I firmly believed in old-fashioned traditions, there were not many people who shared my opinion.

  Perform every task to the best of your ability.

  Respect your elders by addressing them as Ma’am and Sir.

  Open the door for anyone who’s within eyeshot.

  Don’t lie, steal, or cheat.

  If you have anything to say to someone, say it to their face or don’t say it at
all.

  Ask a man’s permission to marry his daughter.

  Save sex for marriage.

  Always remain true to the one you love.

  “Damn it, Son. This heat’s drying out my eyes,” he said as he reached up and rubbed his eyes with the tips of his fingers.

  After a few seconds, he stood from his seat, lowered his head, and coughed. As he looked up, he lowered his hands and nodded his head.

  “It’d be an honor to have you as a son-in-law. It surely would,” he said as he extended his hand.

  I tossed my cigarette to the side and reached for his hand. “Thank you, Sir. I won’t disappoint you. Or her for that matter.”

  “Now, you’re not thinking of one of those runnin’ off deals, are ya? You know, when the time comes, that is,” he asked. “We’d sure like to attend.”

  “No, Sir.” I chuckled. “I’d like for it to be something we could all enjoy.”

  He grinned a prideful grin, wiped his swollen eyes, and nodded his head. “That’d sure tickle the wife and me.”

  I reached down, snuffed the smoldering cigarette, and pushed the butt into the pocket of my jeans.

  “Well, that’s all I had,” I said with a laugh as I patted him on the shoulder.

  “Well, I don’t know if I could handle any more in one day, so I suppose that’s a good thing,” he said. “You mind if I tell the wife?”

  “Not at all,” I said.

  “That’s good, I hate the thought of keeping secrets from that woman,” he said as he shrugged his shoulders. “Call me old-fashioned.”

  “You and me both,” I said with a laugh.

  “Wouldn’t want you any other way,” he said as he draped his arms over my shoulder.

  And, I couldn’t have agreed with him more.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Late Winter 2015, Austin, Texas, USA

  I had been blessed with an opportunity to babysit Casey while Shane and Kace went out to eat dinner and see a movie. For the first hour and a half, Casey slept and had absolutely no interest in waking, regardless of how much I wanted him to.

  As he began to stir in his swing, I rushed to it and reached down to pick him up.

  “Listen up, Little Man,” I said as I pulled him from the swing.

  As I raised him even with my face, he smiled. Seeing him smile was one of the best rewards life had ever offered me. With an adult, it was always anyone’s guess whether the smile was genuine or not. With a baby, I knew it was always genuine. Babies don’t lie and tell a man what he wants to hear, and they’re always honest.

  And a smiling baby is a happy baby.

  “Your old man is a good fella.”

  He gazed off in the distance, well beyond me and toward the wall.

  I carried him to the changing table, lowered him onto it, and opened his dirty diaper.

  ‘Do you hear me?” I asked him as I changed his diaper.

  His mouth curled into a slobber-covered smile as if he fully understood every word I said.

  “He’s a good solid dude, and you need to be sure and make him proud of you as he teaches you about life. Is that understood?”

  Again, he grinned and cooed, apparently understanding each and every word. I picked him up, cradled him in my arms, and began pacing the house as we spoke. Having Casey in my life allowed me to look at things not necessarily differently, but with a more open mind. He provided me what the Ferris wheel provided me, an entirely different perspective on life.

  A view from an alternate vantage point.

  My exposure to him allowed me to develop a better relationship with God, as I was now sure God was looking down on all of us with compassion and understanding, which was something I had always worried about in the past. In short, Casey was damned good for me.

  His eyes followed mine as I admired his ability to maintain focus not only on me, but on what I said each time I spoke. I realized he didn’t understand me, but it was nice telling myself he did. One day, without a doubt, he would, and when that day came, I would be a very proud uncle.

  “That’s what I thought,” I said with a nod. “I knew the minute you were born you’d be a good listener. You see, we grow up a product of our environment. Violence breeds violence, and a loving family teaches compassionate behavior. Your parents are as good as gold. They love you. And Ripp and I love you, Little Man. You need to know if you ever want someone to just kick it with you can always come to uncle A-Train. Remember that. I’ll keep telling you, just in case your little baby brain forgets. But I’ll be here for you, Little Man. Always.”

  “You see, my old man was a pretty good dude, but he didn’t so much care for kids. Me? I’m different. I like little fellas like you. One of these days, I just might have to have one of my own. Maybe make a little brother for you. Some might call him a cousin, but that’s not the case.”

  I shifted my eyes from the window down to his face. His eyes were drifting closed. “Are you paying attention to me, kid-o?”

  The tone of my voice changing caused him to open his eyes and smile. As his gaze met mine, he giggled, opened his mouth, and released a little bit of baby slobber onto his cheek. I reached down to wipe off his mouth, and his eyes attempted to follow my finger, but he soon lost focus.

  “We’ll need to work on that, wont we?”

  I moved my finger back and forth in front of his face slowly. As I did, his eyes followed it for the entire time.

  “That’s better. We’ll tell your old man when he gets home you’re going to be a good baseball player. He’ll be excited. You’ll just have to remember to always keep your eye on the ball, little man.”

  He grinned, got excited, and spit up a little bit. After I wiped his face with a burp rag, we got back to our discussion.

  “Brothers are brothers, and don’t ever let anyone tell you differently. Your aunt Katie and I might just make you a little brother or sister someday. If she’ll marry me, that is. I asked her father for permission, and he gave me the go ahead, so it’s all up to me now. I just need to make sure I’m ready for everything.”

  I heard the garage door open as we finished talking about the possibility of a marriage proposal. From the sound of the voices, Dekk and Kace had returned from the movie.

  “Keep that marriage stuff quiet little man. Got it?” I asked.

  “Right here,” I said as I cradled him in one arm and held out my clenched fist with my free hand. “Pound it.”

  Babies invariably have clenched fists. Further proof they’re always ready to make a promise and have every intention of keeping it. As I pounded my fist against his, he laughed.

  “I know, the thought of it makes me giggle too,” I grinned.

  As I carefully placed Casey into his swing, I wiped his mouth one last time and kissed him on the cheek.

  “We don’t want your folks thinking I held you the entire time they were gone, so keep that quiet too.”

  Filled with gratitude and appreciation for everything Casey provided me, I bowed my head and closed my eyes.

  If you let me make Katie a part of my life, I’ll make you proud, Lord.

  I certainly will.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Early Spring 2015, Austin, Texas, USA

  Immediately following high school, I joined the military. Soon thereafter, I met Suzanne, and quickly got married. My deployments overseas to the war began as soon as my military training was complete, and they continued for over ten years. In short, my only exposure to the real world as an adult without the atrocities of combat, battle, and war, had been since my return from The Middle East.

  The time I spent in Wichita following the war was unhealthy for me, and allowed me little, if any, recovery from post-war emotional and mental complications. My decision to move to Texas proved to be an excellent one, the elimination of stress alone allowed me to proceed through life with wide-open eyes. My new home allowed me, for the first time, to begin my journey not only to recovery, but to becoming a civilian responsible for his ow
n actions.

  Although I had been in combat for 12 years commanding troops, and home from the war for almost three years, I was experiencing the situations and making the same decisions that a high school senior would be forced to make upon graduating high school. My time in the Marine Corps did little to prepare me for living civilian life, and everything from housing, meals, and even medical provisions were provided for us.

  I was cautiously proceeding through life no differently than if I was walking through a minefield.

  And, since I had been in Texas, I had stepped in all the right places.

  “I am so relaxed, it’s crazy,” she said.

  With the tip of my index finger I traced along her skin lightly, from her shoulder to her wrist. Her skin was tanned from exposure to the Texas sun, yet silky smooth and without flaws. As she remained motionless, I slipped my finger under her hand and lifted it from the cushion.

  I softly gripped the tips of her fingers and lifted her hand toward my face. Her eyes followed the movement of her hand, and as my lips pressed against the surface or her skin, she shifted her eyes to meet mine.

  “Your skin,” I said as I gazed along the length of her arm. “It’s so soft.”

  “So are your lips,” she responded. “I love it when you kiss me. It gives me goosebumps.”

  “Scoot in here and lay down with me,” she said as she patted her hand against the cushion.

  Comfortably positioned on the couch, seated beside her hips, I stared down at her and shook my head. “Not yet. I like it here.”

  She nodded her head and closed her eyes. As she lay motionless, I admired depth of her true beauty. To me, in many more ways than her looks alone, she defined perfection.

  Each time I looked at Katie at for any length of time, it raised wonder as to why she would choose to find interest in me. I felt undeserving of her attention, unworthy of her love, and often uncertain that her love for me could last a lifetime.

  “On a scale of one to ten,” I said. “How happy are you right now? Not right now, but in general. With me?”

  “Ten,” she responded without opening her eyes.

  I feel the same way.