Owned (17 page)

“Stop, God damn it. Stop, it’s sensitive,” he half screamed, half laughed.

I pulled my mouth off of his cock and grabbed it in my hand, stroking it as fast as I could.

“Fuck fest, remember? Till someone taps out,” I said as I looked up and smiled.

I guided his cock back into my mouth and slid it down my throat. I felt his cum oozing from inside of my pussy and down my leg. I held it in my throat, and pressed hard, making my throat convulse on his half hard cock.

I forced my lips against his balls and stuck out my tongue.

And I growled.

His hand hit the window.

Smack!

And again.

Smack!

I forced him deeper in my throat, growled, looked up, and waited.

“You little fucker…” he screamed as his hand came back for the third...

Smack!

ERIK.
The people in your life that truly care for you are the most difficult to listen to sometimes. Generally, they aren’t afraid to tell you when you’re making a mistake. If someone tells you that you have a problem, it is second nature to scoff, and walk away. If two people tell you, you may wonder. If a third person tells you, you better take a long look at yourself - because more than likely they’re right.

“So, what’re you doing today, Train?” I asked, hoping he would be leaving soon.

“Just hanging out, gonna put a different exhaust on the bike. That one’s too fucking loud and doesn’t perform for shit,” he said as he motioned to his bike.

“My bagger exhaust is the shit,” Teddy laughed as he stepped off his bike.

“Hell, just build what you want,” Bone said as he pointed to a custom exhaust that was on a bike in the shop.

“I ain’t a welder, Bone. I can’t just
build
shit like you do. And you ain’t got time to fuck with it, you got a dozen half-done projects now,” A-Train laughed.

Bone turned toward A-Train and scowled.

“No disrespect Prez, but it’s true. Look around, shit,” A-Train pointed around the shop at the half finished bikes that littered the floor of the shop.

The club leased a shop, and used it primarily for the repair of motorcycles. It was the initial intent for motorcycles to be repaired in the shop
for income
. Although there was an outsider’s bike worked on from time-to-time, there was never really an income seen from the repairs. Bone and Jake worked on the bikes and rarely charged a fee, and
never
charged what it was worth.

“Hell if you charged for repairs, like we talked, maybe there wouldn’t be a dozen in here,” I said as I raised myself up off of my seat.

“What did I tell you assholes about riding your bikes in the shop? Everyone else parks outside,” Bone complained.

“Damn, Bone. Take a fuckin’ pill,” Teddy growled as he slapped
him on the back, “We ain’t gonna be here all day. I got to get home and fuck my girl. She’s off today.”

“Heard you moved that gal in,” A-Train said.

“Yeah. She’s a hell of a gal. I’ll put up with her as long as she’ll put up with me,” Teddy laughed.

“So, Doc.
What’s the deal with that girl from the run? She’s a keeper, huh?” A-Train asked as he turned to me.

“She’s a damn fine woman,” I responded, turning away.

“Don’t wanna talk about it?” he asked.

“No, I’m going into the office,” I said, wanting to avoid a potential four on one conversation about Kelli and
I.

“What’s going on in
my
office?” Bone asked.

“Thought we were talking?” I responded.

“Hell, ain’t nobody here but us fellas,” Bone looked around, “me, Teddy, the Train, Jake’s in the back, and you, Doc, that’s all. We can talk here. No need to go into the office for secrecy.”

“Alright,” I responded as I turned back to the group.

A-Train lit a cigarette, “Anyway, I don’t know. You know, I can tell things from looking at a person. She’s a good girl, Doc.”

“Sure is,” I responded, wanting to change the subject.

“When you moving her in?” The Bone asked as he raised his eyebrows.

“Shit, Doc won’t allow
us
in his house. You think he’ll let her in there?” Teddy chuckled.

“Correction,” The Bone said as he took a drag on his cigarette, “when you moving in with
her
?”

“Stays there four days a week,” Teddy immediately offered.

“Listen, Jesus…I feel like I’m being attacked,” I complained.

“Not yet, but I feel it’s
comin’ here in a few,” The Bone responded.

“I’m not in the mood for bullshit this morning, fellas,” I held my hands at my sides and rolled my shoulders.

“Oh, shit. You gonna fight us, Doc?” A-Train said as he rubbed his hands together.

“No, just not in the mood for bullshit or game playing, I got shit to do,” I responded.

“You ain’t got a fucking job, brother. You ain’t got dick to do,” A-Train laughed.

“All bullshit aside, Doc.
In the last six years, you’ve deteriorated. After your mother passed we all felt you’d need time. Hell, she’s all you had,” he took a breath.

Teddy and A-Train looked down at the floor like they knew this talk was coming.

“We gave you time. We gave you
years
. But you’ve got worse, you’ve changed. You won’t…”

“Bullshit. Changed? I haven’t changed. Times change, things change. I’m an adult, I haven’t changed…” I said defensively.

“I’ve got the floor right now. Let me finish, Doc,” The Bone said as he tossed his cigarette on the floor, stepping on it with the toe of his boot.

“This ain’t about some girl, or
any
girl for that matter. It’s about
you.
Fuck, Doc. You won’t commit to go on our runs out of state. You either show up, or you don’t. Because you know if you
say
you’ll do it, you’ll have to
do it.
I’ll give you
that
. You won’t break your word. But shit, Doc. You won’t even pre-register for the fucking poker run. You’re non-committal. You’re afraid to commit to anything,” he pulled his cigarettes from his back pocket.

I looked around the room. Jake had walked up to the circle. Everyone was looking down at the floor. Teddy stood, drawing in the dirt on the concrete floor with the toe of his boot. I looked back toward The Bone as he started speaking again.

“You know, we’ve talked about this for a while. It’s just timing that you’re with that girl now, this ain’t about her,” he took a drag off his cigarette and squinted as the smoke got in his eyes.

“So, you guys
planned
this?” I interrupted, looking around the group.

“I didn’t say that. Let me finish,” he said as he exhaled smoke.

“Did you?”

“Maybe we did. Now again, I’ve got the floor. Look at it like this, we’re offering you wisdom to
consider
,” he bit his cigarette in between his teeth and rubbed his palms on the thighs of his jeans.

The Bone wasn’t a stupid man. In fact, he was quite the opposite. He had obtained a mechanical engineering degree, and later became a professional engineer. It was his intent all along to design motorcycles. His love for riding overcame the desire to be an engineer when he determined there wasn’t a job in the mid-west designing motorcycles. After a few attempts in the aircraft plants designing widgets for airplanes he quit working and started repairing motorcycles. The Bone always had a problem working for someone else. He struggled with authority.

“Our hearts are funny. We can, after a series of events or exposures, become almost incapable of
feeling
. Look at the Train. Nothing against ya, Train,” he motioned to A-Train, took a drag off of his cigarette, and spit it on the floor.

“Hell, Train has been
exposed
to shit. Over and over. Four fucking tours as a Marine in that war in Afghanistan. Your heart, after being exposed to bitterness, pain, and death -repeatedly, becomes scarred. Almost incapable of feeling. Just like if you cut yourself in the same spot over and over. You end up with a huge scar. That scar, in a sense, is protection. It’s from a massive amount of exposure over a short period of time. The same exposure, over a much longer period of time - a lifetime for instance, causes not near as much scarring.”

I looked at the group. They all stood, arms crossed, listening intently as The Bone spoke. Although Bone and I had many discussions over the years, we had never had a discussion like
this
. Actually, I had never had a discussion like this with anyone. I not once asked for advice, and rarely was
offered
any. The more Bone talked, the more uncomfortable I became.

“We can all recover from
an event
. One. Time passes, something else happens, and we can recover from another. You’ve got a hole in your heart, Doc. From your mother’s death. Fill it. It’s that easy. I don’t know if that person is Kelli. Hell, I don’t know her. Train swears she’s golden, says he can see it in her eyes.
Weird bastard
,” he looked over and smiled at A-Train.

A-Train had a knack for understanding people. He was a Special Forces or
Force Recon
Marine. He had years of training, which included being able to interview and interrogate people. He could tell from talking to someone if they were lying to him when they responded. Additionally, naturally, he was great with understanding people. That, combined with his training, did make him somewhat of an authority on judging a person’s character.

“When I was a kid, I had a dog. I loved that dog.
Duke.
Dad named him after John Wayne. Had that dog from the time I was born until I was thirteen. He was old, but he was still a damn good dog. Slept with me every night, at the foot of my bed. Challenged anyone that tried to touch me, including my brother or my Pop. Hell, I talked to that dog about my problems. One day, he chased a cat out of the yard. Truck that ran over him didn’t even see him,” he stopped talking and lit another cigarette.

“I drug him back to the yard. The man in the truck wasn’t at fault. I screamed and yelled at him anyway. I held that dog, Doc. I held him and screamed. I screamed for my Pop to save him. I screamed at God. I prayed. I swore to God if he’d save that dog, I’d do
anything
. That dog was like a brother to me. Fact was he was closer to me than my brother,” he exhaled smoke and took another drag from his cigarette.

“The dog shook in my arms until he bled to death. He was looking me in the eye and whining the entire time. There wasn’t anything I could do but cry. Right there in my arms, he died. I sat there, the dog in my arms, devastated and covered in blood. I didn’t think I would
ever
recover. I didn’t sleep for about a month. I couldn’t eat. I even considered suicide. Hell, I didn’t
want
to live. Not without Duke. It just didn’t make sense, me living without him,” he bit his cigarette in his teeth, squinted, and rubbed his hands on his jeans as he looked down at the floor.

“You know what kept me from killing myself?” he asked as he looked up.

I shook my head. I realized I was shaking, thinking about The Bone, his dog, my mother, Kelli, and myself.

“I got another damned dog,” he spit his cigarette on the floor.

“I had a long talk with
that
dog. The new one. Told him he was a piece of shit. Told him he’d never hold up to the legacy of Duke. I hated that dog when I got him. I even remember kicking him a few times, because I was mad about Duke dying. But I tell you what. That dog loved me. And in time, I loved him. Named him Bob. Time passed, and I forgot about Duke,” he rubbed his hands on his jeans again.

“Find someone that believes in you, Doc. Believe in them. Kick ‘em a few times if you have to. Have that long talk. But let ‘em in your life. Develop trust,” he paused and took a breath.

“Doc, it’s time you get a new dog,” he looked into my eyes and rubbed his palms together.

“The past can hold a weak man down like an anchor. It takes a strong man to remember the past, but forgive. Forgive and forget. Taking the first step forward is difficult. But take it. Save a backward glance for the times when you’re uncertain, just to make sure your past is where it belongs,” he inhaled slowly.

“Behind you.”

“To move forward is to forgive
. To forgive is to move forward,” he sighed.

H
e clapped his hands and opened his arms.

“Come here, you big stubborn prick,” he laughed.