Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 105398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
The sirens were right on us now, lights bathing the black night red and blue. Two Rusk County Sherriff cars pulled up about two seconds after I put my .45 away. Wouldn’t be good for them to see an armed man standing over two individuals that clearly just got in a wreck.
One was a heavy set, and one who was a little older in years who looked like he’d seen it all. The other was a young black man who probably was still wet behind the ears. They both took in the situation noting the two mammoth Harleys parked there, the two huge men in black, and a couple of kids with their hands on their heads. It didn’t look like it would be a fun explanation. Especially when the cops immediately stiffened and moved their hands closer to their guns. Not placing them on them, but close enough to get to them if needed. That was a sign of a good cop, always ready for what could happen, whether it good or bad.
“Officer.” I said and nodded my head to them both.
“What’s going on here?”
Before they could receive their answer, James pulled up behind their cars, Ember on the back. Not wearing a helmet, I might add.
“Where’s your fuckin’ helmet?” I asked distracted from the original question posed by the officer.
“Well, I took it off to sit on it, but when I heard James, I took off towards the road, and kind of left it behind.” She said sheepishly.
“You don’t get on a bike without a helmet. Never. Too many things could happen, even in that short stretch of highway. That highway don’t care. It doesn’t care that you were only going to be riding for a couple of seconds. The highway is an unforgiving bitch.”
“Jesus, Gabe. He didn’t even get up over twenty miles an hour.”
I had this conversation a lot. The guys were used to it. Unfortunately, I’d been witnessed two motorcycle wrecks in my time, and neither one ended well for the individuals that were on them.
“You see that guardrail right there?” I asked her.
She turned, and looked at the guardrail. In addition, I noted that Jack, James, and each of the officers did as well.
“I witnessed a wreck one time with one of those. Want to know what happened? The guy was going just over thirty miles an hour and hit an oil spot. His bike went one way and his body went towards the guardrail. The side of his head hit the guardrail. Split his head open like a watermelon falling to the ground.”
“Not that this isn’t interesting, but shouldn’t you be doing something with those two?” She motioned towards to the two boys on the ground.
When Ember pulled up with James, she’d dismounted, both officer’s attentions had immediately zeroed in on her. She looked like she’d just been fucked (which she had been). Her hair was windblown, cheeks flushed. Her shirt had ridden up exposing some of the smooth skin at her belly. Now that she’d brought up their inappropriate behavior, they were all business.
“They seriously hurt?” the young officer asked.
“No, just a little banged up. These little assholes deserve this and more, they almost ran my girl and me off the road. I had to use some creative driving to get away from them before they made road kill out of us. We’re lucky to be alive right now.” I said and then started in on my explanation.
The officers listened to the whole explanation, took the kid’s explanation as well, and then gave them a seat in the back of the police cars. Each one in a separate car. With handcuffs.
Tomorrow was going to be a busy day for them; I’d be making sure of it.
Chapter 9
"Yippie-ki-yay, motherfucker.”
-Die Hard
Ember
“Get that out of my face.” Cheyenne said to me.
“It’s not in your face, it’s in my hand.”
“Get what’s in your hand out of my face.”
Both of us burst out laughing.
“Do you both ever stop? That’s all I fucking hear. If I have to hear penis, penis, penis, vagina, vagina, vagina one more time, I’ll shoot myself.” James said petulantly.
Sherlock Holmes and Varsity Blues were only two of the movies that we constantly quoted. We were both goody two shoes in high school. All we did was watch movies and eat in front of the television. We didn’t party, we didn’t stay out late, and we didn’t do anything illegal. Well maybe not too illegal, but still. They were lucky we watched movies; we could have been having sex with half of Kilgore’s population like the rest of our senior class.
“Penis, penis, penis.” Janie said.
James head whipped around and glared at us as if it was our fault. Not once today had we even said anything from Varsity Blues. He’s the one who said it. Sticking my tongue out right back, I turned my head back to the computer and started pointing out the bike helmets that I liked.
I’d gone back the next day to find it, but when I did there wasn’t much left but a shell. The straps had chew marks, and no padding was left where your head went. I still haven’t heard the end of that one.
“She’s three, James. What exactly do you expect when you say something that is so easy and catchy for her to say?” Cheyenne asked.
He’d been with her for a year now, and he still found himself flabbergasted at the stuff she said and did. Just last month she’d tried to take a shit on the potty at Lowe’s. While Cheyenne and I were busy laughing our asses off, James was running in the opposite direction. We’d calmly taken her down once we’d gotten ourselves under control, and then took her to the actual potty. She still never figured out why you couldn’t go since there was a potty right there that she could use.
“I like that one. The one with the skull. Do you think he would let me wear it?” I asked the group in general.