Hard Corps (Selected Sinners MC #7) Read online

  I was talking in a circle, and not giving her the information I had intended to. It was all too easy for me to give minimal information and convince myself I had actually discussed – at length – whatever the subject was I intended to discuss. It was typical of the Marine in me.

  “Katie,” I said. “I’ve killed men.”

  “I know,” she said. “You had to.”

  I shook my head. “Since the war.”

  Her eyes widened slightly, and she shifted them to the side, gazing beyond me. I studied her as she stared blankly at the kitchen behind me, her eyes eventually narrowing into slits as she drifted deep into thought. After a moment, she shifted her eyes to me, inhaled a slow breath and dropped her gaze to the floor.

  “Like Ripp did? Guys like that?” she asked.

  “Worse,” I responded.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Do I need to?”

  “I guess…”

  “Let me say this,” I interrupted. “I have no idea how or why my mind works the way it does. I’m not saying I’m always right, but I sure think I am for some reason. Whether I’m an active duty Marine or not, I’m a protector. I feel like it’s my duty to protect the people on this earth from what is evil, because I am able. And, believe me, not everyone is able.”

  “Now I don’t plan on scouring the nation looking for any and everyone who is evil, but when evil threatens the ones I love, I’ll take care of it,” I said.

  She unfolded her arms, reached for her coffee, and took a drink. As she lowered her cup, her eyes followed it.

  “So you’re protecting your loved ones from harm,” she said as she shifted her eyes to meet mine.

  “Exactly,” I said.

  “I’m not agreeing with you just to agree with you,” she said. “But you know, when I think about what happened to me, and what Ripp did…”

  Her eyes dropped to the coffee cup and she hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I wish someone would have done that to him a long time ago. You know he told Ripp that he had done that before to several women, and no one would testify against him. So he just kept doing it.”

  She lifted her eyes from the cup and continued. “I mean, you’re a good guy. A great guy. I’ve lived in Texas my entire life. This state is full of vigilantes. People walk around with guns on their belts. Ripp was robbed at gunpoint a year ago, and a guy tried to take his car. We were almost robbed that night at the bar, and then that guy shot your friend, Toad. I guess I trust you.”

  It seemed all too easy. I didn’t expect her to agree with me, but having her do so was comforting. I pressed my forearms onto my knees and leaned forward.

  “Trust me to what?” I asked.

  “Make good decisions,” she said.

  “So, you’re not upset about it?”

  She shook her head. “Really? I’ve lived with Ripp my entire life. He’s beaten up guys for looking at girls cross-eyed. And Shane? Yeah, he might come off as a really mellow guy, but he’s not. When he first got here he was going out to bars and beating the crap out of guys who he thought were shitty. And I know what Ripp did to Kace’s old boyfriend. He got drunk and told us. No, I’m not upset.”

  I felt relieved, but I was still not convinced she had accepted me for who I was.

  “That night the guy tried to rob us?” I said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, I wished I wouldn’t have let him go,” I said.

  There. I said it.

  Her mouth twisted into a slight smirk. “Alec, we all talked about it when we drove around the block. I was sure you had killed him. So was everyone else.”

  I scrunched my brow and stared. “Really?”

  “You know,” she said. “There’s a huge difference between people like me and Vee and Kace and people like you and Ripp and Shane. We might not be able to always tell you what we want or even what we expect when it comes to things like that, but that doesn’t mean we don’t want them. Deep down inside, we want them. We just don’t want to talk about it.”

  She stood from the couch and picked up her coffee cup. “One reason, one big reason I was originally attracted to you? Because I knew you’d always protect me. And I knew you were able.”

  I followed her with my eyes as she walked toward the kitchen. Half-way there, she glanced over her shoulder.

  “I just don’t want to hear the details,” she said.

  I stood from the chair as she poured another cup of coffee. There wasn’t a person on the entire earth who could claim to be perfect in a complete sense, but for me, Katie was as close as a person could be.

  All I could hope for was that one day I could be the same in her eyes.

  “Alec,” she said over her shoulder.

  As she realized I was walking in her direction, she continued. “We all have flaws. But as far as I’m concerned, you’re perfect.”

  And, at that instant, I realized the day I had waited for arrived.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Summer 2015, Austin, Texas, USA

  Austin had won his first three fights, proving not only that he was a great boxer, but that I was capable of teaching him. The pride I felt in his abilities was probably similar to what a child’s father felt when his son accomplished a difficult goal.

  Shane paid to have a new gym built, and we were all enjoying the size, new equipment, and additional boxing rings. Waiting in line to be able to spar was a thing of the past, and although the old gym was still available, it was becoming more of a museum than anything.

  My life, entirely, was as in order as it had ever been. In the grand scheme of things, I exhaled, paused, and inhaled a long slow breath of appreciation.

  “You’re just going to have to get used to it. You’re a father now, and being a father is about makin’ sacrifices,” Mr. Ripton said.

  He had Jessie balanced on his knee, holding her in place with one hand and was eating a hamburger with the other.

  Ripp crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Since when do we not have chicken?”

  “Since now,” his father responded.

  Ripp turned his head to face his mother and sighed. “Seriously, we’re not going to have any chicken?”

  “Meal’s been served, Mike. Look around you,” his father said sternly. “Everyone’s about done eatin’. You been bitchin’ about it for fifteen minutes.”

  “The burgers are really good,” Kace said as she held her half-eaten burger in the air.

  I shifted my eyes toward Mrs. Ripton. She glanced up from her plate and nodded her head toward Kace. “Thank you, Kace.”

  “Burgers are really good,” Ripp repeated sarcastically as his eyes darted around the table for something satisfactory to eat.

  Ripp’s eating habits were similar to that of a teenage girl. He refused to eat hamburger, claiming it would make him fat. Although I wasn’t as big as Ripp, I was certainly in better physical condition, and I ate beef on a regular basis. Despite Shane’s and my attempts to convince him otherwise, he wouldn’t eat a hamburger if we tried to force him.

  It was now apparent even his parents couldn’t convince him to.

  “I say we go the next year and eat Sunday Burgers. I’d like to watch you wither away. You don’t fight anymore anyway,” his father said as he reached for another burger.

  Ripp furrowed his brow and glared at his father. “I still fight. I fought last weekend.”

  “Fightin’ in Rundberg doesn’t count, Mike. Bare knuckles fights are for kids and thugs. You need to grow up,” he said.

  Katie choked on her food and began to laugh. I pursed my lips and shifted my eyes toward Ripp, fully knowing he would respond with some type of smart-assed remark.

  “Grow up?” Ripp howled as he waved his arm toward his father. “I’ve got a house, a kid, and a wife. How much more can I grow up?”

  “Shane bought you that house, you ain’t got a wife ‘cause you ain’t actually married, you’re still fightin’ bare knuckles matches in Rundberg fo
r cash, and I’m holding your baby. I’d say you could stand to grow up plenty,” he responded.

  “Gimme the baby,” Ripp demanded.

  “Eat a burger,” his father said as he nodded his head toward the platter of hamburgers.

  “I ain’t eatin’ a burger,” Ripp said. “Gimme the baby.”

  Mr. Ripton shifted his eyes from Ripp toward me. “What do you weigh, Alec?”

  “Hundred ninety-five, Sir,” I responded.

  “You get on that machine at the gym? The one where they test your fat?” he asked.

  “Body fat percentage? Yes, Sir, I do,” I responded.

  He took a bite of his burger, shifted his eyes to Ripp, and glared at him as he chewed. After swallowing, he placed the remainder onto his plate and began to bounce the Jessie on his knee, but never moved his eyes away from Ripp.

  With their eyes locked, he continued.

  “So, Alec. What’s your fat? How much fat you got?” he asked.

  “Eight point two percent this morning, Sir,” I responded.

  “Huh,” he said, still staring at Ripp. “So, Mike. What do you weigh?”

  “What’s your point?” Ripp asked.

  Vee chuckled. “Answer your father.”

  “Two-forty, give or take,” Ripp said.

  “And the fat?” Mr. Ripton asked.

  Ripp clenched his jaw and stared.

  “Alec, you eat hamburgers?” his father asked as he shifted his eyes from Ripp to me.

  “Yes, Sir,” I responded, fighting not to smile as I did.

  “This is funny,” Katie whispered.

  I nodded my head.

  Ripp sighed, reached for the plate of burgers, and picked one up.

  “None of your business,” he responded.

  “I’m thinkin’ you could learn a lot from Alec,” Mr. Ripton said.

  “Alec ain’t perfect, Pop,” Ripp snapped back.

  “More so than you,” his father said as he reached for his burger.

  “He’s got a different metabolism,” Ripp snarled.

  “Sure does,” his father said as he finished his burger. “It’s called devotion.”

  Ripp had already eaten half the burger. As he glared at his father, he dramatically opened his hands and dropped the remainder onto his plate. “You sayin’ I ain’t devoted?”

  “I said all I got to say,” his father said.

  “That’s about enough,” Mrs. Ripton said softly. “It’s Sunday, we should all get along.”

  Katie grinned as she squeezed my knee. When we gathered on Sundays, I’d become accustomed to her having her hand on my leg for almost the entire meal, which was something that developed over time.

  I glanced around the table as everyone quietly ate and realized I was amongst my family. Since moving to Texas, my old habits had faded away one by one, leaving a void within me. The void, entirely, had been filled with new events, new people, and new purpose.

  There was no doubt in my mind I was exactly where I belonged.

  After everyone finished their meal and began to tell stories of bare knuckles matches, changing diapers, and babies learning to eat solid food, I lowered my head and said a one-word prayer.

  Courage.

  I lifted my head, glanced at Mr. Ripton, and as he met my gaze, winked. In response, he furrowed his brow and glared back at me.

  I stood from my seat.

  “Since I’ve moved to this fine state of yours, I’ve learned a lot. I’ve grown considerably, and not in size, but in my ability to become human again. I look at each and every one of you as family, and I appreciate all you do for me,” I said.

  “But something’s missing,” I said as I turned to face Katie. “Something I’m afraid I can’t go any longer without at least attempting to fix it.”

  “There’s a huge hole in my soul, and I feel empty sometimes. So, tonight, I’m going to take a step toward repairing that one part of me that remains broken.”

  I lowered myself to kneeling, reached into my pocket, and pulled out the ring.

  “Katie, would you consider filling the void within me by agreeing to be my wife?” I asked.

  Her mouth curled into a smile. She glanced toward her father. I did the same. He grinned and nodded his head. She gazed down at me with her beautiful blue eyes and responded.

  “Yes,” she said excitedly.

  As I slipped the ring onto her finger she reached for the back of my head with her free hand. I’d never been one for public displays of affection, but as she pulled me into her for a kiss, I didn’t resist at all.

  I closed my eyes, kissed her, and allowed myself to become lost in the moment, but not so much that I wasn’t able to hear her father.

  “Yeah,” her father said. “I’m thinkin’ you could learn a lot from Alec.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Summer 2015, Austin, Texas, USA

  Regardless of my attempts to separate myself mentally or physically from my family, they were, and would always remain, my flesh and blood. No amount of effort, or lack of the same, would ever be able to break that bond.

  I stared at the text message, reluctant to respond, but fully knowing I needed to.

  It’s dad. Wherever you are, you need to come home. He’s bad.

  As much as I despised some of the decisions my father had made, he was still my father. He was the man I once admired, and always looked up to. He was the one who taught me how to shoot a rifle, how to hunt, and how, at least initially, to defend myself. He made his values my values, and instilled a belief system within me that allowed me to become a hero in the eyes of many and a remarkable man in the eyes of at least one woman.

  “Who was it?” she asked.

  I glanced up from my phone and gazed blankly in her direction. The possibilities of what could have happened to him were running through my head, and it wasn’t so much that I didn’t want to face him, I really didn’t want to face the problem – or the unmistakable truth that he was getting older.

  “Huh?” I murmured.

  “Your phone. You didn’t answer. Who called?” she asked.

  “My sister,” I said.

  “Oh,” she said, narrowing her eyes slightly.

  “I guess I knew you had a sister, but…”

  “I need to call her back, she sent me a text message,” I said.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Hard to say with her.”

  I pressed redial, and paced the floor as the phone rang. Four rings into the call, and one ring away from me hanging up, and she answered.

  “Alec?” she asked. “Is that you?”

  “Who else would it be?” I asked sarcastically. “So what happened?”

  “He had another heart attack. His COPD is pretty bad and his heartbeat is irregular. They uhhm. They said if you want to see him alive, you better get here in in the next few hours,” she said.

  “They don’t know shit,” I snapped back.

  “Alec, he’s at the heart hospital. Galicia. A specialist has been assigned to him. He’s had a lot more heart attacks than you’re aware of, and he’s had all the bypasses they can give him. They were talking about an ablation, but they don’t think he’ll live through the procedure. It’s complicated. Come home,” she said softly.

  After my second tour, she had given me her promise to keep her son. Raising him without a husband certainly wasn’t an easy task for her, but it wasn’t impossible, either. After giving up on herself and her ability to raise him without assistance, she had moved back in with my father. Before my tour ended, he talked her into giving the child up for adoption.

  I’d never forgiven her for doing so, and I had my doubts as to whether or not I would ever be able to. Since I turned my back on her and my father, it wasn’t uncommon for her to stretch the truth regarding my father’s medical condition – all in an effort to get me to be closer to her – and to him.

  “I am home, Alicia. I live in Texas now. I tell you what. I’ll driv
e up there, but if this is another one of your bullshit…”

  “The doctor’s given him a few hours to live, Alec. I don’t know how long it will take you to get here, but if it takes too long, I’m afraid…”

  “Be there in eight hours,” I said.

  And I hung up the phone.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Summer 2015, Wichita, KS, USA

  I stood in the waiting room with my sister, the doctor, and Katie. Everything he was telling us was not at all what I had hoped for, expected, or was prepared to process. No child, regardless of the relationship they have with their parent, wants to hear that their death is not only certain, but imminent.

  There are few certainties in life, death being one of them.

  Knowing when the exact moment will be that we are going to draw out last breath is something everyone seems curious about, but no one really wants to know the answer to.

  “So, if the ablation isn’t done, it’s your professional opinion that he won’t make through the night?” I asked.

  “That is correct. His defibrillator receives a signal from the heart, if you will. That signal is processed, and recorded. If the signal is irregular or becomes irregular, the device shocks the heart, much like the paddles I’m sure you’ve seen in the movies that they rub on someone’s chest to shock them back to life. The shock is intended to correct the heartbeat.”

  He paused and gazed down at the floor. As he shifted his eyes upward he continued. “Your father’s heart has a spot on it which is sending false or inaccurate signals to the device. We monitor the device remotely, and it had gone off over a two-dozen times in 24 hours. In short, your father has suffered half a dozen heart attacks in the last day.”

  “And the ablation procedure corrects that?” I asked.

  “It may,” he said. “In a sense, we burn the heart, causing it to scar, and remove that section of heart from sending false signals. The process is a timely one, and that is my concern.”

  “The anesthesia?” I asked.

  “Not the anesthesia itself, but the length of time he would be required to be under anesthesia. My guess is six hours or more,” he said.

  “And the decision is mine to make?” I asked.