Brighter Days Ch. 03

Chapter 3

I had been out of prison for two and a half years. I still lived in my little trailer. When the weather was nice I rode my Harley; if it was crappy I had a well-used, but trustworthy Toyota 4Runner to get me where I needed to go. Al gave me more leeway, I only had to call in once a month, and I had to see him in person once every ninety days. I still had to get his clearance to leave Elko, but I never went anywhere, so that wasn't an issue.

Sarah had met a doctor named Mark from San Francisco, I had yet to meet him but she seemed to absolutely adore him. She managed to make it to Elko at least twice a month so we could hang out and chat.

Jimmy and Daisey had gotten married and were dedicating a bunch of time to each other, so Jimmy let Mrs. Rosales handle the day-to-day operation of the diner so that he could have more family time. I often wondered when they would have kids.

I ran the kitchen from the time we opened until noon, and then Charlie, Jimmy's kid brother, took over as manager. Mrs. Rosales ran the kitchen and Jimmy only came in whenever he felt like he needed to.

I still worked at the ore mill. They moved me to an actual production job and I worked from three until one o'clock in the morning. My work days were long, but I really didn't have much else to do.

I had dated a couple of women. One ran the other way when I told her why I had been incarcerated. I guessed, maybe, she didn't feel she could be a one man woman. I heard later from friends that she had badmouthed me and said she could never be with a con. Funny thing is; she knew that I had done time before she even met me.

The second woman had been one of Daisey's bridesmaids. With her, I just never felt a spark. Jimmy and Daisey both kept telling me that I needed to get back on the horse, so to speak. I knew they were right, but until the right woman came along, my right hand would have to do.

In the Nevada desert, you could go months on end without a drop of rain. Then a thunderstorm would come along and drop four inches in the space of a couple of hours. The sky would be blotted out, and you wouldn't call anyone a dumbass for making like Noah and building an ark.

On one of those days, my intuition had kicked in and I had driven the 4Runner to the mill. We were a few hours into the shift when the storms boiled up. The mill lost power and we were all sent home.

Despite the fact that it was only seven in the evening, it was as dark as if it was midnight. Most of the guys were hoping the bars would have power and headed down the back road that led to their favorite roadhouse. I was far enough along with my parole that I might have been able to get away with stopping for a beer, but I hadn't missed the alcohol at all, so I decided I'd go home and lift weights before bed.

Everyone has had a moment in their life in which one small difference would have meant disaster. We've all heard of people over sleeping and missing a flight that ended up crashing, or leaving a store two minutes before it is robbed, or hearing the rattlesnake an instant before placing themselves in position to be bitten.

That night, if I had been messing with my radio, or messing with my cell phone, or just plain driving with my head up my ass, I would have killed her. One second, my headlights showed darkness and rain in front of me, the next second, someone was walking in the middle of the lane. I only registered that it was a person, as I took evasive action.

I slammed my brakes and jerked the wheel to the left. I heard a scream as I shot by him, and if I had been forced at gunpoint to swear on a stack of bibles, I would have said that the sliding rear end of my 4Runner smashed into them. One moment, he was by the passenger door, the next, I didn't see him.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD I JUST KILLED SOMEONE!"

As my mind grasped that thought, I realized I could still hear the scream. The scream was coming from me. Before the reality that I had taken a life could set in, the 4Runner slid off the other side of the road. I overcorrected and only the wet ground kept me from flipping the car over.

An icy fear gripped me as I began to contemplate my situation. I was sure that I was headed back to prison. Nobody would ever believe that someone would be walking down the middle of the road in a storm like this.

I debated running. I could be into California by midnight, then on to Mexico. It was true that I had flunked Spanish in high school, but sooner or later, I'd have to learn it or survive on cerveza and tacos the rest of my days.

Everyone I worked with would know that I came this way. As soon as the body was discovered, they'd be looking for me. The US-Mexico border would be the first place they'd look. I was screwed.

Just as I had resigned myself to my fate, there was a 'BANG! BANG! BANG!' from the passenger side of the 4Runner. I was sure that I was being shot at, either by the half-dead corpse I had just splattered, or some ethereal bounty hunter was coming to take me across the River Styx. Okay, so I was in panic mode.

The banging came again and I put my foot to the floor, hoping to get away from the macabre scene that was unfolding. Nothing happened. The motor had stalled. I was trying to pry my hand from the steering wheel to restart it, when the passenger door flew open.

Death, himself, had pried open my door and was reaching for me. Funny thing was... I always figured 'The Horseman' could probably reach further that the 'Oh Jesus' handle on my passenger dashboard. At that moment, a bolt of lightning backlit the scene, obscuring the face from my fear-addled brain.

As the hooded figure emerged from the darkness outside the car I suddenly thought of the slasher movies I had seen in my younger days. I recalled that in one of them some kids had run over a guy and killed him. They elected to ignore the felony and go about their merry way.

Ignoring that felony had pissed the dead guy off enough that he went and killed them all. Except for the dumb bitch with huge tits that did everything she could to get killed... going to the bathroom alone, running up the stairs, you know, all the stupid shit the heroine does in slasher films. I hadn't even chosen to ignore the crime and the dead motherfucker was crawling into my car... apologizing?

"Are you OK? I'm so sorry I wasn't watching where I was walking..."

Why was the corpse asking if I was OK? Why was the corpse apologizing? Suddenly, the corpse made sense when she said that I might want to start the vehicle and get it out of the road before someone came along and creamed us.

My brain was still puzzling over a speaking, apologetic murder victim; but my instinct listened and I somehow managed to start the 4Runner, shift it into 4-Low and got out of the ditch.

I had heard of people having panic attacks, but I never knew what they entailed. As we started down the road again, I felt like I was driving in a tunnel; more accurately, I felt like I couldn't see anything but dead ahead, and my breathing was suddenly labored.

I managed to get the 4Runner to a pull-off spot and out of gear before the debilitating effects struck me. I was struggling to draw breath, and when I did it came in great painful gulps, like I was sobbing uncontrollably. I could hear my passenger counseling me to be calm and breath.

"We're okay, Jeff. Everything is fine. Just breathe."

She knew my name. She was speaking in a calming, soothing voice, but she knew my name. Just as I thought I was going to pass out, I managed to look over and recognized the dead woman. It was my old cellmate's daughter, Brandi.

*****

After several minutes or so, I finally got myself back under control. Or I thought I had. I turned to Brandi. "My God, I thought I killed you."

As I fought to get control over myself, she kept soothing me. "It wasn't your fault, Jeff. I wasn't paying attention to where I was and I was in your way. You did a wonderful job missing me. You have nothing at all to feel bad about."

I finally settled down and started driving through the deluge toward town. We hadn't gotten too far before I realized she was softly crying. Then it dawned on me to wonder why she was way out here all alone walking.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

She sniffled, and said, "I'm uninjured, so I suppose that qualifies as okay."

I drove on for a few more miles, and then I had to address the elephant in the room, so to speak. "So what were you doing walking out here in this weather? Did you have car trouble?"

"You could say I did."

"Where is it? Maybe it's something I can fix with no trouble."

"Oh there's nothing to fix, Jeff." She paused for a moment, as if she was debating telling me more. "Luke and I went into Lovelock today. I had something I had to do and he wanted to go see a guy about some rare comic book.

"On our way home, he stopped to see Lance, his best friend from college. He lives out past the mines. When he told his friend what he paid for the comic book, I got angry. After we left, I asked him where he got the money for it. He told me that he'd raided our wedding fund to buy it. Well, I reminded his lazy ass that I had put most of the money away for the wedding and he had no right to do that without talking to me first.

"He then informed me that he was going to pull more money out, so he and Lance could fly to a comic book convention. 'Don't worry about the wedding, babe. We can have a smaller one or you can work overtime.' He told me. I then told him that that was not happening and he kicked me out of the car. I've been walking in the rain for at least an hour. I'm so glad you came along."

"Even if I almost killed you?" I asked, hoping to lighten the moment.

"That was my fault, Jeff. I should have stayed on the shoulder."

"But then I might not have seen you."

"Either way, I'm glad you came along. I'm not ruining your plans or anything, am I?"

"Well I had intended to dominate the world, but now I have to wait until the planets re-align. Thanks for that," I said, trying to sound evil.

She chuckled half-heartedly. "You know what I mean. I hope you're not missing important time with your lady because you're aiding me."

"First off, there is no lady, so all you're keeping me from is figuring out what to do with myself until bedtime."

"Come on Jeff. You don't have a girl?"

"Well, there is someone I am interested in, but I'm sure it'll never happen. So I am free to aid you as long as you need. Most women aren't into ex-cons with long hair and beards."

In the days and weeks following my hospital stay, I had realized that the only way to hide the remaining scars and hairless patches on the back of my head was to grow my hair out and keep it in a ponytail, I grew the beard after buying the Harley to complete the look.

"I'm grateful for your help, Jeff. I'm sure your girl will come around. And besides, your hair and beard don't make you less attractive." I wasn't sure, but she did seem to be appraising me as she spoke.

We made it into town with no more trouble. I pulled up in front of her house and stopped. "I can't thank you enough, Jeff. I hope things work out for you," she said, as she kissed my cheek.

Before I could reply, she was out of the car and headed for her door. I waited to make sure she made it in OK, and it was a good thing that I did. She pounded on the door for a few minutes and then went to the car in the driveway. I couldn't tell what she was doing in the car, but soon she was headed back to the door.

She pounded for a moment, and then I saw the curtains move. I could tell she was yelling at him, but I couldn't tell what was being said. A moment later, the porch light shut off and she came stalking back to my car. She got in and started crying.

"He has my keys. He's locked me out of my house and he has my fucking keys."

"Fucker. Want me to go talk to him?"

"No. He'll just call the police and make problems for you. Can you just please take me to a hotel?"

Normally, I would have loved to hear this woman utter those words to me, but not then. "I have a better idea," I told her. "I have room at my place. You can bed down for the night and see what tomorrow brings."

"I can't put you out like that. Jeff, just take me to..."

"It's no imposition, and besides, he's wasted enough of your money today without him causing you to spend more."

I thought she was just too exhausted to argue her point, so she finally agreed. I drove to my house. I should have been ecstatic to be near her, but it was tearing me up inside, knowing she'd probably fix things with Luke in the morning, and they'd be back in love and I'd still be alone. I had promised a photograph of her that I'd rescue her, and I meant to keep that promise. Besides, she had no idea of how she was hurting me.

We got to my place and I made us some soup. While the soup was heating, I introduced her to Scooby. Scooby was my Great Dane, who just happened to be colored like the famous cartoon dog.

After we ate, I told her of the bed assignments. "Brandi, you can sleep in my room. I'll take the sofa."

"No way, buster. I have no intention of kicking you out of your own bed. I am fine with the sofa."

"You might be fine with it, but Scooby will be all over you. I'm used to him so I'll take the sofa. You just sleep well."

We said our goodnights and she retired to my bedroom. I picked up my dumbbells and did some curls. I wanted to do a full routine, but didn't want to make too much noise. I did ten sets of curls, then a few sets of butterflies, then I decided to go to sleep.

Sometime around four, I woke up on the floor. I vaguely remembered being pushed from the sofa by a 160-pound dog. In the dim light from the streetlights outside, I could make out his sleeping form occupying the entire sofa.

Since it was my day off from the diner I contemplated going back to sleep, but realized that wouldn't happen on the floor. I also knew moving Scooby would be a fruitless venture as well. So I turned on the TV and watched an old movie.

I must have drifted off to sleep again because one moment I was into the movie, the next moment I heard from beside me, "Oh I love this movie."

I must have startled a bit because she laughed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spook you, Jeff."

"You're fine. I guess I was just in that weird world between sleep and being awake. That's not even the same movie I was watching. Are you hungry?"

She said she was, so I got up and made us some French toast for breakfast, and scooped food into Scooby's bowl. As we ate, she didn't say much. I hoped she didn't notice how much I was looking at her, but I couldn't help it. She was wearing one of my shirts and looked fantastic. I know I didn't look as good in it as she did.

Here was this beautiful woman, and I knew she was out of my reach. I would have some lovely images to help my right hand later on, though.

As we were finishing breakfast, Brandi asked if I could run her to the bank. "I'm going to pull the rest of my money from the wedding fund and make sure he can't touch my checking account. Then I need to buy some work clothes."

"Don't we need to hurry?" I asked.

"No need," she smiled. "Luke won't be out of bed before eleven anyway, so we have plenty of time."

I told her that I had nothing going on until the evening, and would be happy to be her chauffeur for the day. She smiled and then went to get dressed. While she was in the bathroom, I slipped into my bedroom and changed clothes. I felt perverted, but I smelled the shirt she'd slept in. Her scent was heavenly, but I reminded myself that there was likely very little chance I'd ever get to be more than her friend.

When she was ready we went to the bank. She closed out her accounts and then we went to another bank where she opened a new account. "I'm afraid those bimbos at First National will recognize Luke and allow him to get at my money," she said. It wasn't really my business, so I just told her that was a good idea.

Then I drove her to Walmart, where she picked up a decent outfit for work. "I don't know what I'll do if Luke won't bring me my keys. I need them for work."

I dropped her off at the grocery store and told her to call me if she needed anything. She kissed my cheek as she got out, and said, "I can't impose on you, Jeff. But thank you for your kind offer."

As she hurried into the store, I decided I had one last good deed in me. I drove to her house and knocked on the door. After several minutes of not getting an answer, I moved their newspaper into the middle of the yard and sat down on the porch swing. The window that faced the porch wasn't near the swing so I didn't think I'd be seen from inside.

About an hour later, I heard the door open. A scraggly looking guy looked at the welcome mat, then grunted as he saw the paper was in the yard. As he shuffled down the steps to retrieve it, I slipped into the house and stood to the side of the door.

A moment later he walked back in, so engrossed with the paper, he didn't realize I was standing there until I spoke. "Luke, I need to have a word with you."

The look on his face was comical, as he spun to see me. "Wh... Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my house?"

"I am a close friend of Brandi's father. I'm here to retrieve her keys because she needs them. The rest of the shit is between you two, but I'm not going to leave here without her keys."

His eyes were huge. I suddenly realized the fucker might have a gun and I was unarmed. He just stood there, his mouth working wordlessly. I put an exasperated look on my face. "Come on, motherfucker. I don't have all damn day."

That seemed to break him out of his trance. He tossed the paper onto a table and then picked up a ring of keys from the room divider. He was shaking, as he handed them to me.

"Good. Thanks. Now, let's just hope I don't have to come back. Now you have a pleasant day."

I turned and headed back out the door and down to the sidewalk. I then walked to my 4Runner. "Damn, the bike would have made a more intimidating ride," I thought, as I got in. I looked toward the house. The front door was still open, like he was afraid to close it.

Ten minutes later, I was handing Brandi's keys to a woman with 'Assistant Manager' written on her name tag. I then went home and took Scooby out for a jog. As I ran, I wondered how many laws I had broken.

"Technically none," I told myself. "I didn't pick a lock or break a window. I didn't threaten the guy. I just got Brandi's keys and left." I wondered what Al would say if he knew what I did. I'm sure Fred would understand. It was Brandi I was worried about.

I was worried she might be upset that I intimidated her fiancé, or that I stuck my nose into her business. I was sure I had no shot at her, so it didn't matter a whole lot. The more I thought about it, the more the black despair came over me.

I was tired of being alone, I craved a connection. The problem was I had built up this image of Brandi. I'd made her my sole desire for so long that I had no Plan B. No other would live up to the image I had built in my mind.

I considered going to the store and buying a bottle of vodka. I hadn't been checked by Al in over three months, and should have been in the clear, as long as I didn't go make an ass of myself somewhere. But in the end, I just hit the weights.

I don't know how long I'd been lifting, but I knew I was overdoing it. When I got tired, I just decreased the weight and lifted to burn out. I was on my third burn-out set of curls, when I heard someone knocking at my door.

"That's probably the cops," I thought. I figured Luke would send them my way sooner or later. I set down my bar and went to the door. "OH FUCK," I thought, as I saw who was at my door.

"Hi Brandi," I said, as I opened the door. I couldn't tell her mood from the look on her face. She didn't seem to be too happy though. "Please, come in?"

"Hi Jeff," she said, as she came in and sat down.

I sat on the couch across from her.

"So, do you know anything about someone paying my fiancé a visit and claiming to be a close friend of my father?"

"Did this someone get your keys for you?" I asked, sheepishly.

"Someone brought me my keys. It was Jenna, my assistant manager. She said some good-looking guy had given them to her."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Getting my keys? No. Intimidating Luke? Not entirely. Claiming to be a friend of my father? That doesn't sit too well with me, Jeff. You don't know my father and you have no idea how scared Luke is right now. He's afraid to even leave the house."

"Actually, Brandi, I do know your father." I told her how I had spent the better part of six years with Fred, since we shared the same cell. I almost told her about his photos of her, but sensed that would be a bad idea.

"I never knew. He never mentioned his cellmate. Jeff, I thank you for getting my keys, I'm sure Luke would have brought them sooner or later."

I sensed the impending 'but' that was surely on its way. The kind of 'but' that would deal a crushing blow to what Darla had left of my heart. I wasn't sure I could handle her saying it, but it came anyway.

"But, if I am to have any chance at saving what Luke and I have, I have to ask you not to intimidate him anymore."

In retrospect, I might have been a little rude, but I had to get her out of there before I lost it. "Okay. I'll butt out. Speaking of butting out, I have a workout routine to finish," I said, standing up, and walking to the door. I opened it as I finished, "So if you wouldn't mind..."

I'm not sure what her facial expression was, I couldn't bring myself to look at her face. She walked past me and out of the door. "Thank you for everything, Jeff," I heard her say just before I closed the door.

"Don't mention it," I said, as I pulled it closed.

* * * * *

For the next three weeks, I fell into a routine. On my work days, I'd work at the diner, and then go for a run with Scooby. I'd get home and shower then go to my job at the mill. After that shift, I'd walk Scooby and then lift until I was exhausted enough to sleep.

On my off days, I'd either load Scooby into the 4Runner and head for a lake, or I'd go for a ride on the bike. I loved the Harley, but I hated leaving my furry companion behind, so my excursions on the bike were never all that long.

One afternoon, I came home from the diner to find Brandi sitting on my front steps. I hadn't seen her fiancé since the day I retrieved her keys, so I didn't think she was there to yell at me for intimidating him.

As I approached, she looked up. "Hi Jeff. I came to apologize for the last time I was here."

I invited her in and offered her a drink. She opted for a bottle of tea, while I had a bottle of water. After I took a pull, I said, "I see no need for you to apologize, Brandi. I should have kept my nose out of your business."

"No. I was wrong for the way I reacted, Jeff. You put yourself out to help me and I was a bitch to you."

Maybe I was a bit cynical, but I suddenly wondered what she was really there for. One part of me said to not let her off the hook too quickly, but the part that had spent countless hours staring at Fred's photos wanted to be as close to her as possible.

"I don't know, you were a little rough, maybe, but I'd never call you a bitch."

She smiled at me demurely, "I know you wouldn't, Jeff. You are probably the sweetest man I've ever met." She stood and put her arms around me. "The biggest reason I reacted badly, Jeff, is... I am not sure exactly how to put this."

She bit her bottom lip and was silent for a moment. Then a look of revelation crossed her face. "I... I know," she said as she pulled me in for a kiss. What she couldn't say in words, her soul kiss spelled out clearly.

At first, I was a bit tentative with my hands. When I stroked her back, she responded so I let my hands wander. I knew I'd hit pay dirt when she moaned into my mouth as I caressed her ass.

Without breaking the kiss, we maneuvered into my bedroom, and I had removed her blouse and bra. We had to break it though, when she pulled my t-shirt up over my head. And we simultaneously shed our shorts and underwear. I gently pushed her back onto the bed, and resumed our kiss.

I lightly ran my hands over her bare flesh, relishing the feel as the goose bumps became prominent. I could actually feel her nipples harden as I rubbed them. As I worked on her nipples, she was fondling my rapidly hardening cock.

"Oh, it's so nice," she purred.

I started kissing down her body, starting from her earlobes, down her throat to her chest. I spent some time on each nipple, appreciating the way she responded to stimulation. Her moans got louder, as I worked my way down her stomach to her neatly trimmed mound.

Looking up past her mound and through her cleavage, I saw the look of ecstasy on her face as I stopped teasing her lips, and attacked her clit with my lips and tongue. It wasn't long before her thighs were tight to my ears, and her hands were pulling my head in tighter.

"Oh God, Jeff! Oh yes, just like that," she squealed, as her orgasm shook her. Her thighs quaked and her heels drummed on my back, as I kept licking her pussy.

I inserted a finger, hoping to keep her orgasm going, but she had other ideas.

"Come here," she commanded, as she pulled me up and onto her.

I suddenly remembered how long it had been since I had been with anyone other than my own hand.

I was thinking of anything I could, so that I wouldn't cum right away as my cock sank into her hot, wet honeypot. She didn't help matters much by digging her fingernails into my back, as she came for the second time in less than two minutes. Unfortunately, between her nails on my back, her heels drumming on my ass, and the death grip her pussy had on my cock, I didn't last but another minute before I was flooding her womb with my cum.

"Oh God, I needed that," she gasped into my ear, as she pulled me tight to her. "Your ex must have been stupid to want anyone else."

That night began six months of sex sessions, whenever we both had available time. Even though Luke had moved to his aunt's house, and we were together almost every night, neither one of us ever brought up the idea of moving in together.

One night during our post sex cuddle and pillow-talk, I finally learned about my old cellmate. We were snuggling, when she began tracing the tattoo on my shoulder. I had been contemplating getting it removed since I was no longer a guest of the state, and in no danger of getting my shit pushed in.

"So you were one of daddy's lieutenants?" she asked.

"Daddy's lieutenants? As far as I know your father knew a lot and had a hand in nothing."

"Oh no," she said, obviously amused. "The guys who run the rackets inside aren't in charge. Daddy is like the 'Godfather' in there," she said making air quotes. He's in charge, but no one knows."

I mulled that over for several minutes. Thinking back, I had assumed that Mike had been the boss. I had never seen him take orders from anyone, nor had I ever seen him and Fred converse. As a matter of fact, the only one I knew who talked to Fred was me, and I never passed anything along to Mike or anyone else from him.

"I can see you're puzzled," Brandi said. "Daddy has a system for getting word out to his guys. You were obviously being purposely kept out of harm's way if you didn't know he was the boss."

"So maybe you can solve a mystery for me. What did your dad do to gain entry to the Nevada's finest social club?"

"Well..." she paused for a moment. "Daddy did things for his best friend from elementary school. Daddy was a henchman for him you might say, but his friend called him his lieutenant. His friend got into the heroin trade in Vegas.

"They were bringing in hundreds of thousands of dollars every week, at first, then millions, later on. They managed to stay under the radar for years. Then one of their lowest-level street dealers got busted. To save his own hide, he started naming names. He wasn't able to name daddy, but as each guy was caught, they also gave up names. Eventually, they got someone who could name my father.

"Daddy refused to cooperate with the police, and therefore was sentenced as if he was the kingpin. None of the guys who talked are still around, but Uncle Andre takes wonderful care of daddy. All he has to do is ask and Uncle Andre sees to it that daddy gets it."

I suddenly knew who had imported the pure heroin for Jesus Enriquez to OD on and how Fred seemed to have so much insider information. Uncle Andre had to be Andre Calabrese and I was damn lucky that 'Topper' didn't take real offense to my pseudo conversations. I also knew then why Luke had been so scared shitless that day I had retrieved Brandi's keys.

Brandi went on to tell me how she refused to be 'cared for' by her uncle and insisted on making her own way without the help of his drug money. "He sends me a card now and then, but he respects my wishes to remain out of their business. Daddy has more of a problem with it. He says Andre owes him, and therefore he owes me. I want no part of their dealings, Jeff."

I completely understood why Brandi wanted to insulate herself from her 'uncle's' dealings. I knew then I would be getting that tattoo removed in the near future.

The sex was hot and heavy, but after a while, I began feeling that something was missing. Brandi wasn't really distant, so to speak, but there was an almost mechanical feel to her. I myself felt I was lacking a connection that should have been there, but I ignored the nagging feelings and pressed on, after all, the sex was great.

* * * * *

One Wednesday afternoon, Mrs. Rosales, Charlie, Jimmy and I were having one of our weekly face-to-face meetings. Tammy, who was our top waitress, told me I had someone asking for me. I hadn't seen Brandi for a couple of days so I half-expected it to be her.

I looked around and was surprised to find Sarah. She didn't look too happy, so I excused myself from the meeting and went to talk to her. We'd talked on the phone quite often, but this was the first time I had seen her in person in a couple of months.

"Hey Sarah," I said, as I greeted her with a kiss. "Is everything alright with you, hon?"

"Not exactly, but that talk is for another time."

I was about to push for more information when Daisey came in and sat down. She and Sarah didn't say anything to each other, so I knew I was the target of this conversation.

"I don't know how you feel because we've never discussed her," Sarah began. "Royce called me yesterday, he had a message from his aunt Lenore." She paused, as if looking for the right words. Finally, she took a deep breath, and said, "Jeff, Darla is dead."

I wasn't sure how to respond. The way she looked the last time I'd seen her I wasn't too surprised. I hadn't really thought of her since that day. Lenore was Darla's mother. She was a drunk and Darla had avoided her at all costs, so I had only met her twice. The first time I met her was at our wedding, then at her uncle's house for Thanksgiving a year later.

"We weren't even sure if you wanted to know, Jeff," added Daisey. "But in the end, we decided you should know."

"Her mother also asked if you'd go to the funeral. She's being buried in Truckee on Friday afternoon."

"She knows Darla and I haven't been married in a long time, doesn't she?"

"She does, but she said in spite of everything, Darla loved you. He seemed to think his Aunt Donna wanted you there more than Lenore did."

"Oh, Darla was a loving person all right... She loved me, Ramon, Bruno, the vagrants at the bus station, the boys at the ballpark; who didn't she love?" I asked, sourly. I was pissed off at myself for allowing the old wounds to be opened.

"We just thought you might want to say goodbye."

"I said goodbye. I said it many times. If I were to go to Truckee, I'd feel like a complete hypocrite."

"No one says you have to give her life a glowing review," said Daisey. "Just think about it. No one wants you to regret not going, nor do you have to go."

Daisey got up and kissed me on the cheek.

I sat there, staring at Sarah for a few minutes. Her mind seemed to be a million miles away.

She finally looked at me, and said, "I'm sorry, Jeff. I really am."

Tears were flowing down her face, and I knew it wasn't Darla she was weeping over.

"Hey. What's with the water works?" I asked, as I handed her a napkin.

"I'm sorry, I fucked your life up."

I was floored. How could my best friend think she'd fucked my life up?

"You?" I chuckled, "Sarah, you have no reason to believe you fucked my life up. You didn't make Darla and Ramon bump uglies. You didn't send me to prison, and you definitely didn't make Jesus Enriquez bash my skull in with a dumbbell. Hell, if anything, you've always been a bright spot."

"You are always too good to me Jeff. That's part of the problem. Do you remember the carnival?"

I nodded my head. Sarah asked, "Do you know how many times over the years I have wished to heaven that Royce would have been unwilling to talk, or would have become infatuated with his date? Or that maybe you would have become a little possessive of your date?"

I wasn't sure where she was going, so I let her continue.

"I had a plan that night. I really didn't think Royce would be there. I knew he had family visiting him; I counted on him not being there. Then when I saw him with that bitch, I lost it. Worst of all, I lost track of why I was there in the first place.

"By time I got my bearings again, Royce was apologizing and that tramp was sinking her claws into you. I didn't want Royce to talk to me that night. That was an excuse to be with you, but you played the role of the friend all too well and let me do what you thought I wanted to do, and Royce beat me at my own game."

At first, I wasn't sure I was really hearing what she was saying.

"Jeff, I had planned on letting you know that night that I wanted to be with my best friend. I wanted to marry my best friend. When I first got involved with Royce, it was to try to get you jealous. But no. Not you. You were happy for me that I had found someone. You watched me fall for the wrong guy, and I watched you suffering.

"Deep inside, you knew we were meant to be more than friends. You knew, but you always put my happiness ahead of your own. Hell, you put Ramon's happiness in front of yours."

I knew I reacted to that name. I saw a look of shame pass over her face it was fleeting, but it was there. I cursed myself for forgetting what I'd learned in prison about keeping my true feelings at bay.

"When you and Darla hooked up I was jealous of her. She had my best friend, and I was too chicken shit to say anything. It killed me to see you go to prison. Now I see a lonely shell of what you were, and I pray I'm not too late."

I sat there pondering everything she'd said.

She looked at her watch, and said, "I have to get back home now. We'll talk again soon." She stood and kissed me on the forehead then went over to Daisey, spoke for a moment, then left.

I just sat there, thinking over things. I had never played the 'what if?' game. You know the game where you'd sit there and ask yourself "What if?" until you were miserable.

I found myself wondering what would have happened if Sarah and I had hooked up that night. I would have never gone to prison. If I had never gone to prison, I would have never become infatuated with Brandi.

As I explored that thought, I decided I would have been all right with that. I knew deep inside that I wasn't in love with Brandi; actually, I had realized that some time ago. Nor did I think she was in love with me.

When I took an honest look at our relationship I realized that we met each other's sexual needs and not much more. We weren't much more than fuck buddies. Thinking of the time I'd wasted pining over her, made me sad.

I looked up to find Daisey sitting across from me. "It's OK to be a little sad about Darla. She was your wife, and even though things turned to shit, you two did have love for a time."

"I'm not sad over Darla. It's... ah nothing. Just a lot to mull over, I guess." I didn't know if Daisey knew the whole story or not. She knew I liked Brandi, but she didn't know how much. Nor did I know if she knew of Sarah's true feelings.

"Yeah. I'm not sure how I'd feel if I heard Ramon was dead. So, are you going to her funeral?"

"I suppose I should. Might be a good thing to make sure the bitch is really dead," I said with a half-smile.

"Jeff," Daisey said pretending to be offended. "That's awful." She laughed.

"I need to go eyeball the old place anyway," I said.

"You know, I think I miss that cabin more than I ever missed Ramon."

I knew what she meant. I missed my cabin more than I would ever miss Darla.

* * * * *

When I talked to Al about going to Truckee for Darla's funeral the only thing he required of me, was that I had no contact with local law enforcement.

"You've done very well, Jeff. I trust your judgment and fully expect that you won't get into any legal trouble while you're there. And I need to have a meeting with you when you get back."

I left Friday morning. Brandi had agreed to feed Scooby while I was away, and Daisey was going to walk him around noon and again before bedtime. I wasn't looking forward to the trip, but I left anyway.

I got to the mortuary half an hour before the service was supposed to start. I planned on slipping into the back of the room just as the service started, to avoid any uncomfortable situations.

There were only a few cars in the parking lot, so I easily noticed the black Jeep across the street. It wasn't so much the Jeep, itself, that had caught my attention, but more the two guys who seemed to be watching the entrance. I wondered if they might be cops looking for Ramon or Bruno.

Darla's fuck buddies had crossed my mind several times over the past couple of days. I truly hoped that I would avoid either one if they had, indeed, come to pay their last respects. But I highly doubted either would show.

I went into the building and was pointed towards the funeral by a somber-faced young man. Down the short hallway I slipped into the room, and took a seat in the last row.

There were only six people in the room, including the minister. I didn't see any of Darla's aunts or cousins, only her mother and some people that I suspected were her friends. Neither Ramon nor Bruno was there.

In the end, I approached Darla's mother to express my condolences. I saw no recognition in her eyes as she thanked me for coming. I wanted to get out before anyone could ask me how I knew her, or before her breath got me sauced enough to pass out. I didn't really feel any closure, but I was relieved to know for sure that the worst chapter of my life had come to a close.

I was almost out the door, when a voice behind me said, "Hold on a second, Jeff."

I turned and saw Darla's Aunt Donna. Like Lenore, I had only met this woman twice; the first time was when Darla had introduced me to her family after we'd been married for a month. Donna had grabbed my ass, called me a sweet hunk of meat, and tried to force her tongue down my throat. Darla had pulled her off and we left immediately. The second time was when we had joined her family for Thanksgiving, and I witnessed Donna drop Darla's mom with a single punch.

She was holding a large envelope. "Here are some things that I thought you should have, Jeff. The tramp's mother didn't agree, but she won't remember in a few hours anyway. God knows this fucked-up family will destroy anyone who falls into our gravity pull, so feel lucky that you escaped.

"I wish I could spend more time with you, Jeff, but I have to get back in there and listen to all of the lies. 'Oh what a loss,' 'What a tragedy," she said mockingly.

"No one will speak the truth," she continued. "The gene pool has improved!" She handed me the envelope, and rubbed my ass, then turned back into the room as I made for the door.

"Still a sweet hunk of meat," I heard her say, as she entered the room.

As I was walking back to my car, I noticed that the black Jeep had moved to a better position to watch the parking lot. I could see one guy was still in the Jeep, I couldn't see the other occupant. Forgetting the Jeep, I got into my 4Runner and headed back to Reno.

When I got to the hotel I decided I was going to have a drink. I debated all the way to the lounge about what I would have. I really didn't miss alcohol. So I was sitting at the bar, drinking pineapple juice, when a woman sat down right next to me. Her appearance and the fact that there were many open stools led me to believe she was a prostitute. I wasn't far off with that assumption.

I had no intention of engaging her in conversation, so I continued drinking my juice and watching the room through the big mirror behind the bar. I didn't look at the woman directly, but a glance in the mirror told me she'd once been a fairly attractive girl. She showed every bit of a hard life. She looked at least a decade older than I was, and she definitely rarely used the word 'exercise'. She wasn't fat exactly, but she was definitely more than housewife soft.

I wondered how business could be for a whore, who'd obviously been ridden hard and put away wet more times than anyone could count. Were there that many guys willing to pay to fuck her?

I glanced into the mirror again, and was mortified to lock eyes with her. As I fought back the wave of revulsion I was feeling, I recognized her.

As if I needed more proof, she spoke. "You're looking good, Jeff. It's nice to see you again."

"Hi Lupe," I said, in an even tone.

I had the misfortune of speaking to Lupe Lopez... Ramon's cousin. I quickly scanned the room, and in no time, spotted him. Ramon looked like a patient in a shitty nursing home. He was enough in the shadows that I didn't get the best look at him, but I'd seen enough to know that the years had not been kind to him.

"He misses you, Jeff. Will you talk to him?"

"Lupe, I do owe you, him and your Petri dish crotch a debt of gratitude."

She looked mildly offended, but there was some hope on her face. "Thanks to you, I learned that my wife was a cum-slurping gutter slut and my supposed best friend was a worthless scumbag. No, I don't' wish to talk to him," I said, as I tossed five dollars onto the bar and rose from my stool. "Have a nice life, Lupe, but he can rot."

I left the lounge and went to the front desk to see if I could get a refund. I had changed my mind about staying in Reno, knowing that I was near enough, to choke the life out of the shell of what had once been my best friend.

The only reason the hotel manager didn't charge me for backing out so late, was the couple from San Francisco who had almost been informed that there were no vacancies.

I walked to my 4Runner. I tossed my bag in and headed for the highway. I was lost enough in thought that I didn't surveil my surroundings; I didn't even bother to see if the kissin' cousins had followed me out.

Just as I was about to make the last turn that would lead me to the freeway, I noticed that my gas gauge read 'empty,' and the 'low fuel' light was on. I had filled the tank before I left Truckee, I shouldn't have had to gas up again until I got to Lovelock. Obviously some asshole had lost their money in the casino and had helped themselves to my fuel to go home. I pulled into an Exxon station and stopped at the pump.

When the tank had filled, I replaced the nozzle, replaced my gas cap, grabbed my receipt and headed for the driver's door. As I opened the door, someone suddenly stepped up behind me and pushed something into my kidney area. I had never experienced this before, but I knew the odds were great that it was a gun.

"Unlock the passenger doors and get in," my new acquaintance said. My mind was racing as I did as he said. I sat in the driver's seat and heard my captor close his door. I closed mine as he put the muzzle of a snub-nosed revolver against my neck.

"Just do what I say and you'll be all right," he said. He had me get onto the freeway heading south. After thirty miles he had me take an exit. I knew that the exit went nowhere and started trying to figure out how I was going to survive this ordeal.

We were several miles away from the highway, when he had me turn onto a small dirt road leading up a hill towards an abandoned mine. I knew one of us was probably going to end up in the mine, and I sure as hell wasn't going willingly.

I had formulated my plan when we topped the hill and entered the mine's property. I saw three men standing in front of the black Jeep from outside the funeral parlor. Two of the men had rifles, so I knew my plan would need some tweaking.

The guy in my back seat ordered me to shut the engine off and hand him the keys. As I handed back the keys, I saw the men tracking my movements with their rifles trained on me. I wasn't ready to admit that I was fucked, but I knew my odds of survival were growing slimmer by the minute.

As we approached the men by the Jeep, I recognized the guy calling the shots. "Fuckin' Bruno." I shook my head.

"Surprised to see me, Fucko?" He let out a raspy chuckle. "I bet you are."

"More like disgusted, but who's counting?" I replied.

"I knew your sentimental ass would show up to see the slut off, you just never outgrew your stupid, did you?"

For a brief moment, I wondered if Lenore and Donna hadn't set me up, but I doubted that even those mean bitches would have been in league with this asshole.

"Speaking of outgrowing things, how long did it take for you to realize that you missed being cornholed after your five-day stint?"

He walked over and slapped me. There wasn't much behind it.

"Well, you do hit like a bitch," I laughed. "And to think I was intimidated back there in your club."

I expected him to hit me again, but instead, he just spat on the ground.

"Funny you should mention the word 'bitch' Fucko. Do you really think I'm gonna let you go to your grave without making you my bitch?" He looked at his guys. "Strip him!"

Two of the guys left the Jeep and approached me as Bruno began unbuckling his belt. One of them grabbed my shirt and ripped it off. In that instant, I knew I was not only going to die, I was going to be humiliated by this shriveled version of a man before I was put out of my misery.

"You fellas might wanna let Chromy the Assclown, here, go first. In all the time he was fucking my ex, I never noticed. She always felt virgin tight. If you go before him he might not be able to touch the sides," I laughed even as one of the dickheads punched me in the kidney.

"Laugh it up, Fucko," Bruno said with a sneer. "Might not just be my cock going up your ass but I'll fist-fuck you too."

I barely had a moment to reflect on what he said when he screamed, "I said strip him!"

As my shirt was torn free, I heard a gasp behind me followed by, "Oh shit."

Bruno looked up, and yelled, "What the fuck are you waiting for? I said strip him!"

"Fuck no," said a voice behind me. The guy holding me let go and said "I don't want any part of this."

"What the fuck?!" yelled Bruno. He pointed at the guy by the Jeep. "Plug him!"

"He's a shot caller," said a voice behind me.

"A what?" said another.

"He's a motherfuckin' 'caller' Griz. He's fucking badged! I aint part of this shit no more."

I suddenly realized that my prison ink had just saved my ass. The guy holding my shirt tried to drape it back over my shoulders. "Oh man, I hope you don't tell anyone about this."

"Damn it, I want this bitch!" screamed Bruno.

"Only bitch here is you, boy," said my captor, as he approached the shaking, angry man.

""Man, I hope we're cool," said the guy who'd torn my shirt as he stepped in front of me. "I tell you what, if you're game, just get back in your car and head out. We'll deal with this turd."

"No," I said, with authority. "Take him back and let your president make that call."

The guys agreed that was a good idea, and took a picture of my ink to show their president. "We're sure sorry about this," he said, as he motioned for the others to load up.

"What?!" Bruno screamed, as the bearded man, who'd brought me here, silenced him with a single punch to the gut.

He looked at me. "Yeah man, we're definitely sorry about this. Please don't hold it agin us. We didn't know."

"I won't say shit," I said, as I turned and walked back to my 4Runner. I didn't even bother to take one last look, as I got in and headed for Elko. That day was the last day any of those shitheads were ever in my life.

*****

I got back to Elko around two in the morning. I had planned on going home and going to sleep, but I decided to drive by to see, if by any chance Brandi was awake. I no longer was interested in pursuing a relationship with her, but since she was such a fun fuck, I hoped to have her at least one more time before I ended it.

I could see that her bedroom light was on, so I parked. There was a car I didn't know in the driveway so I stealthily used my key to enter. I had a pretty good idea that I wasn't about to interrupt a bridge game or book club meeting.

The den was dark and vacant, as was the kitchen. On the counter there were two wine glasses as well as two beer bottles. I wondered just who had been here. I quietly placed the bottles in the trash and placed the wine glasses in the sink.

I then slipped upstairs, making sure to avoid the noisy treads. I wasn't sure what I was going to find, so I didn't want to announce my presence. I noticed her bedroom door was open so I moved along the wall so anyone looking in the mirror wouldn't see me.

I got to the door and peeked in. I definitely wasn't expecting to see Brandi on the bed with the two punks who had been accosting her on the night we first met. She was riding the fat one while the short one fucked her from behind. In the mirror, I saw Luke sitting in the chair across from the bed jerking his dick slowly, as he watched the action. Suddenly, a comment she'd made one night made perfect sense.

We had just finished a hot sweaty fuck and were lying next to each other, catching our breath. I didn't know why, but I asked her if she thought Luke was pissed off that I was fucking her. She thought for a second, and replied that he'd be more upset that he couldn't watch.

I slipped back down the hall as the action in the room seemed to shift into a higher gear. Back in the kitchen, I removed my house key from Brandi's key ring and replaced it with hers. I went out the door and onward to my trailer. That was the last time I ever laid eyes on Brandi Hoyt.

I got home and took Scooby for a quick walk and went to bed. When I woke up the next day around noon, I found an envelope taped to my door. "This should be interesting," I quipped to my furry partner. I opened it and sure enough it was from Brandi.

Jeff,

I know you saw me last night, even though the other three didn't know you'd even been there. I know you have felt the distance between us recently as much as I have. I know I shouldn't have done this behind your back, but it was something I had really been missing. I get off harder knowing Luke is watching, and as good as you were, and Jeff you lack nothing, being used in front of someone is a bigger thrill for me. I hope you aren't too upset over this, and for what it's worth; thank you for a great time.

Brandi.

The note from Brandi hadn't been unexpected, but I was in store for two more surprises that day.

The first was opening the envelope that Darla's aunt had given me, only to find papers for a life insurance policy on Darla for 350 thousand dollars and the proper death certificates to file the claim. There was also a policy on me that I would be able to cash in for 50 thousand dollars since the beneficiary was no longer alive. There was also a cashier's check in the amount of 200 thousand dollars with a note from Donna clipped to it.

Jeff,

This is Darla's inheritance from her grandfather. We kept it from her to keep that bald-headed asshole from getting his pudgy fingers on it. Lenore would only spend it on booze and I have enough, so I want you to have it. God only knows you've earned it.

Donna

It confounded me that they had all this money, but lived like the poorest of the poor. I hadn't a clue anybody in that bunch had an extra nickel, but I guess it was good they were cheap because, otherwise, I might have been raked across the coals in the divorce. The Turner family definitely was full of surprises.

I didn't have time to go to open a bank account just then because I had forty minutes to get my ass to Al's office for this meeting he had ordered.

*****

I got to Al's office to find the reception area was almost full. I rarely saw more than one person waiting when I had to go in. I checked in with his receptionist, and was handed a sample cup. "You know the drill, Jeff," she said.

Al's Deputy Jake watched me empty my pockets and then watched me fill the cup to the line with piss. I finished in the toilet and handed the cup to Jose. He looked at the toilet bowl and flushed it and then I was left alone for a minute to wash my hands. This was the first time in a year that I had been tested.

Ten minutes later, I was in Al's office. We exchanged pleasantries and made small talk until Jose opened the side door. He and Al exchanged a glance then we got down to business.

"Jeff, the state has asked me to transfer to Carson City. I'll be replaced by a gal named Samantha Bartlett, who is just starting her career in the parole system."

"Whew," I said, "for a moment, I was afraid you were going to tell me that I would have to drive to Carson City to meet with you."

"Oh no, Jeff," he chuckled. "As a matter of fact you won't have to meet with anyone."

He chuckled at the confused look that must have crossed my face. "You see, Jeff; since Ms. Bartlett is brand new, the state is trying to make her first few months as easy as possible. I was asked to submit my worst cases, and my best cases. My ten worst cases will have to travel to Wells and see Bob Higgins."

Again, I must have looked puzzled because he was quick to add, "Don't worry, Jeff, you are nowhere near one of my worst. No sir, you are one of my best cases. You were among the names I gave them as my best cases and to further ease Ms. Bartlett's transition, you are one that has been granted a complete release from the state."

I just sat for a minute, trying to digest what he'd said. "Yes Jeff, your debt to society has been declared paid and you are completely free. No more sanctions, no more meetings, and no more having someone watch you pee in a cup."

I think I actually hugged the guy. My mind was whirling with the news. Free? Really? I was free? I didn't get to mull it over for long because Al had others to elate and piss off. I wasn't exactly sure what to say; no way would I miss having to deal with him, but he was a good guy all in all.

He seemed to understand my pause. "Good luck with everything, Jeff," he said, shaking my hand. And with that I was turned out into the world, a completely free man.

In the weeks that followed, I had Melvin look at the trust Larry had drawn up to see if anything could be done to end it since I no longer needed its protection. In less than a half an hour he called me back and had already found a loophole that Larry had built in.

"I swear Jeff, Larry knew he caliber of lawyers Darla would hire, because my paralegal found the clause as she was copying it"

"If you only knew," I thought, again bewildered at Darla's family.

Within a month, my parents had deeded the property over to me along with one hundred and sixty acres of forested land my grandfather had given my dad, and I received the rent monies from the cabin. I gave the mill my two weeks' notice, and began making plans for the future.

To be completed...