Hard Corps (Selected Sinners MC #7) (41 page)

JAK.
“So I’ve never asked, but lately I’ve started to wonder. Respectfully, I’d like to ask a personal question. Permission?” I chuckled.

“You ain’t in the military anymore, boy. You ain’t got to be askin’ me permission to speak. Step away from the doorway so
the man
don’t see ya,” Oscar grinned as he waved his hand to the side.

I stepped into the shop and away from the door.

“Go on and speak your mind. What ya got?” Oscar said as he leaned against the golf cart and pulled a cigar from his pocket.

“Well, I was wondering. Is your wife still alive? Are you still married?” I asked.

“Well, thems two separate questions. She’s gone, Jak. She died four years past. She died by the hand of a man who had one too many drinks on the eve of the new year. Makes that day a doozie for me. But the other question?” he paused and lit the cigar.

“Yessir. I’s still married to her. Always will be. That’s when you know it’s true. When you stay married long after they’s gone,” he nodded as he pulled the cigar from his lips.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed.

I had asked for other reasons, but knowing a little more about Oscar pleased me. He was a fine man, and brought a little more joy into what had become a wonderful life for me. Sharing time with people like him allowed me to understand the value of war. Good people fighting against the belief of evil for what they believed to be good. War was and will always remain terrible, but seeing the good in the world through the people in it provided me hope the fighting wasn’t all for not.

“The reason I asked,” I paused and walked toward the golf cart.

I opened my arms and smiled, “Thanksgiving is coming up. I was thinking if you had nowhere to go for the holiday, you could spend it with us. My mother, Karter and me.”

“Thanksgivin’ dinner. Whooooeeeee. Been a spell since I had me one a those. A real one. White folk eat turkey?” he asked.

“Yes, we eat turkey,” I laughed.

He puffed on his cigar and widened his eyes comically, “You eat yams?”

“Yes sir.”

He raised one eyebrow and stood erect, “Stuffin’?”

I nodded my head and laughed, “Yes, we eat stuffing.”

“Hmmm. Well, if there’s to be a certain pie at this gatherin’, you might count this ole black man in. I likes me some peeee-can pie. Any a you know how to make a good peeee-can pie? You gots to make ‘em with the Karo syrup, or you fuck ‘em all up, ya see,” he lowered his cigar, raised his chin slightly, and looked into my eyes.

“It’s the only way my mother makes them. As much as I hate to admit it, this will be my first Thanksgiving at home in twenty-one years. Karter and I would love to have ya,” I smiled.

“Your mom let nigga’s in the house?” he asked dryly.

I slumped my shoulders and shook my head in disbelief, “Well, I’ll explain a little about my mother to you. If you use
that
word in her home, she’ll escort you to the door. Everyone in my mother’s home is equal. Everyone. If she hears that particular word fall from your lips, she’d politely ask you to leave. I feel the same way. So to answer your question, no. She doesn’t let them in her home; because to her, and to me, they don’t exist.”

“I was kiddin’ about bein’ a nigga. Well, kinda. People have strange beliefs. Some of ‘em, anyhow. I like you an’ Miss Karter fo’ sho’. You’s good people. And I thank ya for askin’. If you’s serious I’d sho’ like to attend,” he nodded.

“Well, consider it a date. My mother’s expecting you. I told her about you some time ago, and she asked the other day. I said I’d ask.”

“Miss Karter got a family?” he asked.

I shook my head, “I thought I told you. No, she doesn’t. She’s alone.”

He shook his head and stared at the floor, “Maybe that’s why I like her so much. I had me a little boy, Albert. We just called him Al. He died at fifty years. Same way as his momma. He was back east. Lived in Boston. Makes me kind a sick, so I don’t drink me any of the devil’s juice.”

“I don’t either, and you won’t find any in my mother’s home. I’m sorry about both your losses, Oscar,” I said as I patted him on the shoulder.

“They’s in a mighty fine place now, Jak. You God fearin’ people?” he asked as he looked up.

I nodded my head sharply.

“Well, that’s good. I’ll say the prayer,” he smiled.

“Sounds perfect. Well, I better get. I’ve got to meet her for lunch,” I said as I rubbed my palms together.

He extended his hand and smiled. As I took his hand in mine and shook it, I tried to remember if we’d shaken hands before. As he released my hand, he grinned.

“I’ll be seein’ ya, Jak.”

I smiled and walked to the door. As I passed the threshold, I tilted my head rearward.

“Not if I see you first.”

KARTER.
I’d used the microfiche machine at the library many times. I had tried to find out about my father when I was young by reading old newspapers on it in the library. Potwin, Kansas has no newspaper, and the news in Potwin wasn’t of much interest to the people in Wichita, so there was nothing for me to find out about my mother or really anything regarding the small town I was from.

As I frantically searched though the film, I came across the June 6
th
newspaper and found nothing. It was a Sunday. As I moved to the film to the next day, the front page of the Local/State section stopped me from looking any further. A photo of the scene of the accident sent chills down my spine.

Two police officers stood beside a truck. The photo was of the old Kellogg Avenue. One officer stood in front of the truck and one beside it. The caption above the photo read
Drunken Driver Drags Man to His Death.
It wasn’t the caption that caught my attention, it was the truck in the photo.

It was Jak’s truck.

Holy mother of all things sacred.

Jak was still driving his father’s truck. He had told me he used to drive the same truck in high school. Although he never spoke of his father, I knew he had died when Jak was young. His mother described how much she loved him, and Jak explained how he grew up without a father, but I never knew what happened for sure. And Jak never offered. Now I knew.

Bill killed Jak’s father.

I sat at the machine and cried. I cried for Jak, for his mother, and for Bill. The thought of something happening so quickly, and how it could change the lives of so many people became very heavy in my chest. I sat and stared at the article on the screen blankly, not even caring to read any further.

As I wiped the tears from my eyes, I realized although I had solved a mystery of sorts about Jak’s childhood, his past, and the death of his father, I could never share my findings with Jak. Keeping a secret from him wasn’t something I really wanted to do, and even lying about my mother made me extremely uncomfortable. After much consideration and thought, I decided some things need to be kept secret to prevent further harm to those the secrets are kept from. When Jak was ready to tell me, he would. If he didn’t, I’d take this knowledge with me to my grave.

Without removing the film from the machine, I stood and wiped my eyes. I left the light switch turned on and the article about Jak’s father’s death on the screen of the monitor. As I walked away, I did so with hope. Hope someone else would read the article and gain from it. If one drunken person took a taxi home instead of driving as a result of reading the article, the world would be a better place.

A much better place.

JAK.
I sat across the table from the most beautiful woman in the world. As she picked her teeth with blade of her knife, I further realized just how extraordinary she truly was. If she were anything but one of a kind, she surely wouldn’t fill all of what was broken within me with such precision.
Karter was placed on this earth to make me whole. I further believed I provided her with the same satisfaction. As I admired her eye color choice for the day, she looked at the tip of her knife with disgust. A small piece of what appeared to be chicken hung from the blade. After wiping it on her jeans, she leaned into the center of the table.

“You ride like a pussy,” Karter whispered.

I heard her clearly, but chose to respond as if I had not.

“Say again?”

“
Say again
,” she repeated in a mocking tone.

“I crossed my arms and tilted my chin upward, “What did you say.”

“I said you ride like a pussy. And you still have a long fucking ways to go to be a biker, new beard or not. Oh, and your ears are getting weak, old man,” she half shouted.

It seemed as if the entire rear portion of the restaurant turned around to see what the commotion was about. I lowered my chin and wrinkled my nose, “Old?”

I raised my hand to my chin and rubbed the four days growth of what was to be a new beard, “Pussy?”

“I knew you heard me,” she said as she pushed her plate to the side and burped.

“Through these old ears?” I shrugged.

“Mmmmhhhhm,” she mumbled.

“You’re pushing your luck,” I assured her.

“Oh really? What are you going to do? Punish me? By fucking me? Please Jak, please. I hate fucking you. Don’t fuck me Jak. Please no. Not the sex. Anything but the sex,” she said in a high pitched voice.

“That’s it,” I said as I slapped the table.

“You want me to bend over?” she asked.

I smiled at the thought of it. Karter was by all means the best thing to ever happen to me. She allowed me to understand just how simple living life could be - with the right person. I hadn’t even attempted to imagine a life without her for some time; only what our future could and would bring us. Karter had taken me from wallowing in the guilt associated with war and breathed life into my lungs. I yearned for the arrival of June and our ability to officially be man and wife.

“As a matter of fact, I do. Get your ass in the bathroom. I’ll be right behind you,” I stood from my chair and removed my wallet.

“Seriously? The bathroom?” she squeaked as she pointed her finger over her shoulder and to the rear of the restaurant.

I cleared my throat and pointed to the bathroom, “Now, Karter. Go!”

She lowered her head, stood, and walked toward the bathroom. I dropped a fifty-dollar bill on the table and covered it with my glass. I looked up and watched as Karter walked toward the hallway which led to the bathroom. As she walked with her shoulders slumped, I felt bad for acting stern. Surely she realized I was joking. As she entered the hallway, and was away from the view of the restaurant, she turned to face me and removed her shirt and bra. Now twirling them above her head, she took off in a dead run to the bathroom.

I shook my head and walked toward the bathroom. As I knocked on the door, she answered from the other side.

“Who is it?”

“Let me in,” I said softly.

“Sorry, it’s occupied.”

I scanned the empty hallway. I beat my hand against the door sharply, “Open the door.”

“Sorry, it’s occupied,” she said in an elevated tone.

I beat against the door with my clenched fist, “Karter, open the damned door.”

She opened the door slightly. Naked, except for her sneakers, she stood on the other side of the door.

“Oh, I thought you were someone else. Well, hurry up before someone sees me,” she said as she waved her hand toward the large bathroom.

I stepped inside the door and locked it behind me. Her clothes were neatly folded on the sink. I reached toward the towel dispenser and smacked it sharply with the back of my fist. The hinged cover immediately fell open. I removed the towels, looked at Karter, and dropped them into the toilet.

“What the fuck was that about?” she whispered.

I flushed the toilet three times. Finally, the towels disappeared into the swirling water.

“Get on your knees,” I demanded.

She smiled and lowered herself to her knees, “Oh, you going to face fuck me? Utter torture.”

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth. Seeing her naked with her sneakers on was a huge turn on. I unzipped my jeans and pushed them to mid-thigh. As I positioned my cock onto her lips, she eagerly began to lick the shaft and suck the tip.

As she slurped and sucked, I pushed her to the wall between the sink and the trash receptacle. She opened her eyes and looked upward. As she watched the expression on my face, I began to push myself in and out of her throat forcefully. As I watched my cock disappear into her mouth I moaned loudly.

After several seconds of face-fucking as Karter described it, I was far too excited to continue. I wasn’t done toying with her yet, and needed to change to something different to keep myself from reaching climax too quickly.

“Get up,” I demanded as I pulled my saliva covered cock from her mouth.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she stood, “Oh, do you want this pussy?”

I looked around the bathroom. I had very few options, “Bend over the sink.”

“Yes sir,” she saluted as she spoke.

As she bent over the sink, she arched her back and raised her ass into the air. I looked down at the floor. She was on her tip-toes. Without a doubt, I wouldn’t last long in this position. I waddled to the sink and gripped her waist in my hands. As I released her right side, I guided the head of my cock past her pussy lips and stood still. As I slapped her on the ass, I thrust myself deep into her in one forceful motion.

She grunted and buried her face in her folded clothes.

“Jesus, Jak. Thanks for the warning,” she moaned.

I pounded away without reservation. As I eagerly watched myself disappear into her wet swollen mound repeatedly, she gripped the edge of the sink in her hands.

“Fuck me Jak,” she grunted over her shoulder.

I worked my hips back and forth aggressively. As my upper thighs slapped against her ass, the sound of flesh on flesh echoed throughout the room. I released her waist and twisted my hand through her hair. After collecting most of it in my hand, I pulled rearward, forcing her to arch her back even more. The angle of her body combined with my deep savage strokes was more than I was prepared for. After a short time, she began to groan.

“Harder…Jak…fuck me harder.”

I pounded away as I looked down between the cheeks of her ass. My cock magically disappeared into her wet pussy with each thrust. I pulled her hair firmly as I pushed myself against her. I felt my cock beginning to swell. Within a few seconds, I knew this was going to end

As I felt her begin to climax, I pulled my cock from inside her.

“On your knees,” I demanded.

After a split-second hesitation, she turned and dropped to her knees.

“Fuck yes, cum in my mouth. I want to taste you,” she said as she opened her mouth.

I stroked my swollen cock until I felt the pressure building. As I lowered the tip to her mouth, I felt myself begin to explode. As I began to spurt cum into her mouth, I moved the tip of my cock and sprayed her face with cum. The excitement of being in the bathroom, Karter’s eagerness to fuck in public, and the fact I had not reached climax in four days was apparent by the amount of cum covering her face. The last spurt landed directly in her falsely colored blue eyes.

As she looked up at me in a face of somewhat disgust, I gazed down and smiled.

“Jesus. What the fuck? Are you a porn star? You fucking covered me in that shit,” she gasped.

I turned, shuffled to the toilet and removed the roll of toilet paper. I tossed it into the toilet and flushed repeatedly until it disappeared. I turned to face her. Cum dripped from her chin and onto her breasts as she attempted to wipe it from her eyes. I pulled my jeans from my thighs to my waist and stuffed my flaccid cock into them. As I buckled my belt, she turned toward me. She was still covered in cum with her eyes closed.

She held her hands in the air with squinted eyes, “Will you hand me something to clean this shit off?”

I reached for the door handle and smiled, knowing there was nothing but her clothes to wipe off with.

“You’ll figure something out. My
old
eyes can’t see too well.”

I opened the door to the bathroom and walked to my bike.

And with each and every step I felt more and more like a biker.