"Oh, fuck me just like that! Keep going! I'm so close! Don't ya' dare change a thing!" Beth shouted.
She arched her back and pressed against me. I felt her clench against me. She closed her eyes. I followed her command and kept pumping away at the same pace. I didn't speed up to try and help her along. Any change had the chance of ruining her climax.
I was close myself. Her dirty talk and watching her gear up to come was so sexy I wanted to go myself. Except if I came I would stop pumping and we couldn't have that. Finally, Beth peaked. She hollered out. Her left hand slapped the truck bed. She grabbed a handful of my chest with her right. Once she calmed down I had my moment.
I waited until she let go of my chest before rolling off her. I smoothed the blanket, which got rumpled during sex. I was on my back, panting and staring at the stars.
Beth lay next to me, panting as well. Every so often she'd twitch. When she came that hard she didn't like being touched for a while afterwards. She said it felt like every nerve in her body was electrified. Pleasure was so intense it became pain.
Finally Beth came back to reality. She stretched out like she was waking up from a deep sleep. She rolled over on top of me. She kissed me twice then once more.
"Hey," she said.
"Welcome back."
She giggled and rolled back off me. We lay in the truck bed staring at the night's sky. It was a warm evening with a light, pleasant breeze. We were on Beth's property outside of the city, parked on a cliff. When we got here we didn't immediately start having sex. Instead we sat on her tailgate and looked at the city far off in the distance. We had a six-pack to split between us, which she drank most of, and listened to the radio playing from the truck's cab.
We hadn't seen each other for two weeks. I hadn't had a chance to ask her about her husband yet. The conversation I had with him ate at me during her absence. That fucking cowboy put bad thoughts in my head. All I could do was constantly pick up my cell phone to check if any messages came in which I hadn't heard. It made me sick to my stomach thinking that she could be out screwing another dude. She'd arrived in my life suddenly so it seemed likely she could leave the same way.
Except she wasn't like that. She wouldn't cheat on me. That's just where my brain went. She'd leave me, yes, but she'd tell me. She left her husband. If not legally by divorce then by simply being estranged. He knew that she broke up with him. Following her around like a love-struck puppy was his own deal.
What really happened was much more mundane and less salacious than the fantasies my brain thought up to torture me with: she forgot her phone while on a job. She had picked up a new one while over in the Middle East, but didn't have the right SIM card with my number in it, which she never bothered to memorize. Besides, she told me, she was too busy guarding an oil sheik to call me anyway.
I was the first person she called once she was back stateside and found her phone at the ranch. That had been a few hours ago. She basically demanded I drive out to meet her. I blew off videogames with my friend Wade and drove out, stopping only to pick up the six-pack from a convenience store.
When I showed up the sun was setting. We switched to her truck. For once we actually needed it to get where we were going. The trail up to the cliff was deeply rutted and bumpy as hell. My car never would have made it. The whole way up she apologized for being out of touch.
"I missed ya' so much, I just couldn't remember your number to save my life. Who keeps numbers in their head anymore? It's not like ya'd be able to recite my number by memory."
"That's because you change it all the time."
"Right, well, but still. I thought about ya' constantly. It was just as well. I was having my lady days while I was gone. We wouldn't have had too much fun since that still freaks ya' out. And I got my frustration out by killing some folks.
"They think just cause they got some AKs that makes 'em soldiers. I went over there with my 30-30 and showed them. I was guarding this Arab royalty or something who'd been targeted for death for some reason. He was already pissed that I was a woman and that I didn't actually have powers. His fucking fault for not doing any research before hiring me. Also for going so cheap.
"I know my limitations. I don't charge a lot because I got no powers. I mostly provide muscle for a security team already there. He thought he was getting a deal on a super-powered tank. Instead he got me. Granted, I ain't as good in the shooting department as Blood Shadow, but I do very well with my aiming. 'Sides, it was too late to send me back and get someone who had real powers.
"And after flying all that way I damn well was gonna' get paid. He didn't have to use me, but he was gonna' pay me no matter what. Oh! Reminds me. I got ya' something."
She ran to the truck cab. She rummaged around for a bit before coming back with a paper bag with Arabic writing on it. I reached inside and pulled out a snow globe with a little Dubai in it. Beth's eyes widened with delight as I looked at it. I was confused. She got impatient and told me why she was so happy.
"It's a snow globe! Of the desert! Like they know what snow is!" she giggled.
I fake laughed and told her I liked the gift. I hugged her. While she was nuzzled in close to me we started kissing. Kissing led to stripping each other's clothes off. I felt exposed under the bright moonlight. Beth told me to shut up and fuck her.
Now we were in her truck bed staring at the stars. It was pretty peaceful. I could easily see why she wanted to come out here. I could barely see the stars from my apartment because of the city lights. It was times like these when I realized I felt relaxed. Like I didn't have a care in the world.
Except I did have cares.
One big care in particular, who wore a cowboy hat. He was on my mind. He was why I couldn't sit back and relax in the afterglow. I chewed my lip as I debated the best way of bringing her husband up in conversation. I couldn't ignore the topic, not matter how much I wished I could. Keeping it a secret that I had met him would come back to bite me. I knew he wasn't going to keep quiet.
I'd "won" our first encounter, but he wasn't beaten. A man in love like that wasn't going to tuck tail and run. Especially with a woman like Beth on the line. If she did to him what she'd done to me, burrowed into my heart, he wasn't going to give up without a serious fight. The only thing I could do was make sure Beth loved me more than she did the cowboy.
Beth was fondling my penis. She flopped it back and forth, sometimes jerking her hands up and down. It was a nice sensation despite the coarse feeling of her hand. She giggled.
"Come on! Why isn't this working?!" She licked her hand and then continued stroking, "Too soon?" she asked, "normally you're good to go. What's up?"
"I met your husband," I blurted.
She tensed up beside me. Her fondling stopped. It turned into a vice grip. I nearly screamed before she realized what she was doing and eased off. She scooted away from me. She grabbed her shirt and slipped it on, getting it mostly buttoned up. I took this to mean that sexy time was over and we were about to have an uncomfortable conversation, which would be better if we were somewhat dressed.
I retrieved my pants from where she threw them and slid them on. I got my shirt on by the time she put on her boots. She got out of the truck bed. Instead of moving towards the cab she walked toward the cliff. I wanted to run and hold her. First I had to put on my shoes because it was rough and rocky.
Once I was laced up I walked up to her. I tried to put my arm around her shoulders, but she slipped from my embrace. Tears ran down her cheeks. It killed me to see her like that. I kept my silence since it was my big mouth which started the situation. I stood and stared at my shoes like an idiot waiting for her to speak.
"Ya' met Wyatt," she said.
"I guess."
"Did he hurt ya'?"
"No. I think he wanted to, but he didn't. Not really. He was trying to scare me off."
"That's good. Because if he hurt ya'...if he hurt ya' I'd have to break his stupid nose again." She smiled and wiped a tear from her eye with the back of her hand. She snorted up some snot then spit on the ground, "ya' mind fetching some tissues from the truck?"
I nodded. I went to the truck and dug around. I found a package of tissues in one of the door pockets. I brought it to her. She pulled one out, dabbed at her tears, then blew her nose like a lady.
I was still gun-shy about being rebuffed so I didn't try to physically console her again. I stood next to her with my hands in my pockets, staring at the bright city skyline in the distance. She sniffled for a while.
"Sorry about the tears."
"Not a problem. Sorry to bring them on. Sorry I mentioned him."
"Not your fault, babe. Ya' had to. I knew there was something going on in your head tonight. Didn't figure it to be my worthless ex-husband."
"He didn't seem to believe you guys were ex-anything."
"Only because he won't sign the damn papers. So, legally, I am still Mrs. Wyatt Williams. And all that entails. Which is jack and shit."
"That doesn't seem like it would matter all that much to you. I mean, come on, legalities don't matter to you."
"But they matter a whole hell of a lot to him. As long as we're still legally married then he's got a lot more reason for pursuing me. He thinks it's his damned right to drag me back to Texas."
"I got the impression he'd be trying to do that even if you two weren't still married," I said.
"Ain't that the damned truth? I told him I didn't want anything to do with him anymore, but he still comes around any time I start dating someone. He scares them off. Or he kicks their ass and throws them in jail."
"He made mention of being a super hero of sorts."
"Geez, Luke, ya' really don't pay attention to anything."
"Sorry, super heroes are just kind of a fact of life. I'm sure if I'd been around when they first started showing up I'd be more interested in them. Instead they've always been around. I know the big names and teams, and everybody knows the losers, but everyone else falls through the cracks. It's not like you can name every supreme court justice."
"How would I ever use that information?" she asked.
"Exactly my point. That's how I feel about anyone wearing a costume...present company excluded."
"Damn right ya' should know my name. Gonna' make ya' shout it later. That's if you're up for it."
She sidled up to me. She didn't do anything overt, just grabbed my hand and entwined her fingers through mine.
"It does feel weird being an adulterer," I said.
"Ya' never struck me as the religious type," she replied.
"I ain't, I mean, I'm not." I blushed at the fact that I'd started picking up her speech habits, "If I were then I'd feel bad about all the pre-marital sex we've had. There's just a strangeness to it all. You're a married woman."
"To an asshole. Who I ain't seen in a year. He seems to forget that pitching woo at a girl means more than scaring her boyfriends off. The moment I'm actually single it's funny, he fucks off back to Texas. For all his words a' love he never follows through. He isn't like when we first started to date. Back then he was all about flowers and candies and working up the courage to ask me to dances."
"When did you guys start dating?"
She was the one who blushed this time. She bit her bottom lip, making a grin with the top row of her teeth, "This is gonna' sound stupid, but in Junior high."
"That...that is an awfully long time to have dated." I tried like hell to keep the disappointment and fear out of my voice. People who dated that long had such a deeper connection than anyone else ever could have. My first girlfriend was a high school sweetheart. But that was where we met. She had her own childhood memories and friends. Beth and Wyatt had their formative years linked.
Those were the types of memories which were the strongest, good or bad. If you had a terrible childhood then nothing would be more powerful in your life than what you remembered. Nothing bad that any person did to try to bring you down could be worse than the memories which kept pushing you down from inside your own head.
Conversely it was the same for happy memories. My first kiss was more powerful than anything else in the world. That moment, which lasted only seconds, felt like hours. I swore I could still taste Karen's strawberry lip gloss sometimes. Whenever I heard a certain Dave Matthews Band song I could feel my hands pressing into the softness of her homecoming dress.
If Wyatt were around to be that man in her memories then he had a strong advantage over me. I only had the last few months to make an impression on Beth. The kisses were great, the sex was amazing, but that was only powered by new romance. I had felt it before with the girls after Karen. It didn't last though. You never felt things as powerful as you did when you were younger.
There was hope. Being with Beth made it feel like I was close to recreating those feelings of young love. When I kissed her it was such an intense rush that I didn't have time to over-think what it all meant and where it was going. I never got tired of it. We never went with quick pecks only done out of formality. They were always powerful embraces which almost left us both clawing at each other's clothes. Kissing her was unlike anything I felt before. When her lips locked on mine and I felt her tongue press against my teeth I forgot all about strawberry lip gloss.
I could only hope that she felt the same.
"Kind of a long time," she said, knocking me out of my thoughts, "But we were just kids. We grew up together. Same small town and all. It wasn't like there was much choice in the town. It was exhilarating when we started dating. Ya' gotta' understand, even as a young boy, Wyatt was the closest thing we had to fame. He was like royalty and rock star all in one."
That did not bode well for me, being the only son of a chemistry teacher and a seamstress/part-time piano teacher.
"What's that mean?" I asked.
"Read a book! Even if ya' don't like super heroes ya' should at least be aware a' them! Wyatt is the Texan hero White Hat. Except he ain't the first one. He's a legacy hero. The last White Hat was Wyatt's daddy, Joel. Before that it was his daddy's daddy. Fella' name of Kelly. I forget the chain after that. Couldn't have gone back much further, I don't think.
"It was the worst kept secret in our town. Hell, the whole state. Wyatt's daddy was White Hat and Wyatt was being trained to take over the mantle when Joel retired. Wyatt wasn't going out on patrol or busting heads. Nothing like that. It was a lot a' working out, studying tactics, learning how to shoot.
"So he's this handsome kid with a great body...for a seventh grader. That's weird. If I saw a seventh grader with abs now I'd wonder what the hell was wrong with him. But being that age he was like some Olympian god come down to Earth to attend my junior high. Every gal in school had a crush on him. Boy were they pissed when he chose me. Once he set eyes on me no other girl even interested him. I never understood that."
"What's not to understand? You're hot now. I figure you had to be a cute little girl."
"I was a skinny little bean pole with a bad complexion. I barely have tits now. I was flat as a board until I was a senior in high school. Most guys would've gone for Gail Sanderson. She had already moved outta' training bras by the time I met Wyatt. Plus there was always that rumor that if you paid her five bucks she'd touch a dick."
"Maybe he didn't want to date the slutty girl."
"Luke, you're sweet, but you're really gonna' stand there and tell me that if ya' went to school with Gail Sanderson that ya' wouldn't be saving you allowance every week for a hand job?"
"I mean...yeah. Probably...well...I'd save up the money but would be too chicken to go through with it. I couldn't imagine asking some girl to do that for money. Besides, it was probably a rumor started by one of her friends. Or one of the guys who really wanted a hand job and she shot him down."
"You're probably right. Still, she was a bitch to me so let me have my fantasy of her being a pre-teen whore."
"Wow, you really hated that girl. Do you just jump on her Facebook page and stalk her, waiting for something terrible to happen to her life?"
"Ya' know I never could get inta' Facebook, no matter how much Sarah keeps bugging me to. Besides, I don't have to follow her to know how her life turned out."
"Why?"
"'cuz she's dead," Beth said.
"What?!"
"Dead. And buried."
"Did you fucking kill her for being mean to you in middle school?"
"That's really the conclusion you came to? That I blew some bitch's head off because she was mean to me in middle school?"
"...yes."
"...okay, you're right. I probably would've eventually if she hadn't died in a drunk car crash on prom night. Once I bounced outta' that hick town it would've made a nice exclamation point on the whole thing...my feet are tired."
We walked back to the truck and sat on the tailgate.
"I think we got off point talking about Gail."
"Guess we did. Though there ain't much after that. Despite my flaws in the face of Hand Job McB-cups I was surprised Wyatt chose me. It was your typical young love/high school romance. I kinda' grew into the girl who was perfect for him. Never got the tits ya'd think he'd want. I grew a nice little booty and I didn't get fat."
"There has to be a better reason than just your body to stick around. He didn't date you for that long, and then marry you, just because of your body."
"It's a pretty hot body."
"Quit fishing for compliments."
"Please...make a girl feel pretty. It'll cheer me up."
"Fine, yes, it's a pretty hot body." I scooted closer to her, putting my arm around her shoulder. This time she allowed it to stay. Pressing my luck, my hand slipped down and lightly squeezed her breast.
"Mmm, that's nice," she said, "that's nice, but I gotta' ask ya' to stop. Not really appropriate for the next part of my story."
I gave one last squeeze before I took my arm from her shoulders. She reached over and took the last two beers out of the six-pack, twisted the caps off and handed me one. That was somewhat ominous. Why she felt like I needed a drink to hear her story I didn't know. So far it wasn't actually that bad. Sounded a lot like my life.
From what I knew of Wyatt, I had to know whatever happened to cause their split couldn't have been too bad on his part. He struck me as the type of guy who would happily hit a man, but would kill himself if he ever struck a woman in anger. Beth on the other hand...
She just admitted she would've happily murdered someone if they hadn't already died.
So whatever she had to say it was coming from a place of shame or guilt. Two emotions I never really got off Beth. She lived her life free of regret, never apologizing for the things she did.
"The real reason I think we stayed together was because a' my spirit."
"She said with only a little bit of pride," I smirked.
"Shut up. All the other girls were just that: girls. Some of 'em could ride, most of 'em could shoot. Everyone grew up hunting. But as they grew older they stopped really doing it. They took up more feminine hobbies. They were less inclined towards horse riding because it's mess up their make-up and break their nails.
"I never cared for any a' that. I like to feel pretty every once in a while, but trying to be a perfect doll every day is fucking tiring. And a waste a' time to boot. Days I like the most are when I can just wake up, tie my hair back and tend to the horses. I don't gotta' impress anyone. The horses don't care how I look. They only care if I'm nice to 'em. They also love sugar cubes.
"I'd have to say Wyatt loved me because I challenged him. I wasn't a passive partner. He was training to be a super-hero and damned if I was gonna' let him beat me. I wasn't ever planning on being one myself; I just wanted to compete. If we were a couple then we were gonna' be as equal as possible. By the time he actually started playing at being White Hat I could rope, ride and shoot just as good as him. Better, sometimes, though he'd never admit it."
"Was it jealousy which split you two up?"
"Oh, hell, no! He loved that I was just as good as him. It drove him to try harder. He knew he couldn't ever slack off because then he knew that I'd beat him and I would never let him hear the end of it. He used to brag to his bar buddies that I was a woman who could damn well take care of herself.
"As great as we were at other things, neither of us had much of a head for money. We lived mostly off his inheritance and some investments. We lived at his family ranch. Life was good for a while.
"Then the markets crashed.
"We lost everything. Our accountant stole what was left, tucked tail and ran. Turned out he had been screwing the entire family for years since they all acted the same way: that the money would always be there. It was a dumb way to live, but the family motto was 'Justice Comes First.' They always used that line to justify their super hero career. As long as evil was punished then everything else was secondary. So my entire new family went from living in mansions to slumming it in trailers. All because they didn't focus on other matters.
"Wyatt's daddy had it the easiest. The day they told him he was broke he had a heart attack and died on the spot. We got some conciliatory charity, but not nearly enough to put them back where they were. It was always barely enough to keep them going. That's the dark secret of small town living. Nobody likes talking about it. It's all friendly faces and politeness, but everyone has a mean streak. Lotta' folk were pretty happy to see the rich family get taken down a few pegs. Didn't matter that they all knew that these were the heroes who tried their damndest to keep everyone safe.
"Wyatt wouldn't see it that way. He grinned and took their shitty food donations. It wasn't like I wanted them all to give us enough so we could get the ranch back. I just wanted him to understand they weren't all good-hearted people who were sad to see us fall on hard times
"...that's when I started to hate him. He worked hard to get where he was. Now it was all slipping away and he wouldn't even try to hold onto anything. Our first big argument came about when he wouldn't even go after the accountant who screwed us. He told me that hunting him down would be vengeance, not justice. I screamed at him that there was no justice in us having to live in a trailer while that fat fuck sipped fruity drinks on a beach somewhere.
"I completely lost it when he started coming up with excuses for the bastard. The way Wyatt started to tell it you'd think the accountant was just some poor, mislead, confused soul who would beg our forgiveness if we confronted him. And because of the love and teachings of Jesus Christ we would welcome him back to our flock!"
Beth wasn't looking at the skyline anymore. Or the stars. She stared intently at the ground. Her eyes were fixed on a rock. I figured she was seeing the accountant’s face on it. She had set her beer down and her hands were on either side of her legs, gripping the edge of the tailgate so hard that her knuckles were pure white. Tears ran down her red face and dripped onto her jeans with surprisingly loud 'plop' noises.
"One a' the toughest days of my life was when we had to sell the horses. Man came from Tennessee and bought the whole lot. Had plans to breed 'em. Said he'd get top dollar for the seed from the horses once owned by a super-hero.
"There was one horse I loved most of all. It was a sorrel quarter horse named Mars. I fell in love with her the first time Wyatt brought me out to the ranch. I rode her every day I could. I think I wanted her more'n I wanted Wyatt. When we got married and she actually became mine that was the happiest day a' my life. Now she was going to a far off ranch where I'd never see her again. Even if we didn't need the money we'd get from selling her to pay down some debts we never coulda' afforded to keep her. We could barely feed ourselves. So she went to Tennessee and I stayed in Texas.
"The only thing Wyatt got to keep was his super hero shit. One of his millionaire buddies from the Rescueteers was generous enough to pay for that. I don't know what's worse: that they wouldn't pay for more than that or if Wyatt let his damned pride get in the way and refused anything they offered more than that.
"So we were the only folks in the trailer park who had a nuclear-powered rocket horse hitched up outside. When he was feeling up to it Wyatt would suit up and go patrol. Most nights, though, he stayed home and drank. Or he picked up the odd job bouncing at a bar here or there. No one ever hired him full-time because there were those times when he had to suddenly jet off to help the world from ending. They were also worried about their bars being flattened by some villain come to get revenge on White Hat.
"One day, after a long waitress shift, I came home to a trailer that needed cleaning and a nuclear-powered metal horse stamping outside. Right then I decided that I wasn't gonna' live like that anymore. Wyatt was never gonna' get ahead again, I didn't have any schooling past senior year, there was no future for us there anymore. Wyatt didn't see it that way. He said that he was born in Texas and that's where he was gonna' stay. He wasn't gonna' pull up stakes and run just because it got hard. I maybe could've believed that if he even considered moving to a bigger city, but he wouldn't. Pride or shame, I still don't know.
"Didn't care by that point. He was at work so I packed a suitcase, stole some of his guns, the real ones, not his electric revolvers he used for super heroing, cleaned out our emergency cash stash, and hit the road in the pickup truck. At first I was kinda' aimless. Stuck up a few travelers for cash, some gas stations. Then I started hearing more about Paradiso. Seemed like a place I could start over in. I didn't have any powers, but all that training with Wyatt's daddy was helpful.
"So I made my way to California, robbing as many mom & pop banks and liquor stores as I could. By the time I crossed the city line I was driving a new Mustang and had more money than I had made in the past two years being a waitress. I made a name for myself in the life by being a crazy cowgirl who would rob any bank. I didn't take any shit off anybody, powered or not, and soon got into the villain community. Been doing that ever since. Got big enough that I could afford to be a bit more choosy in my jobs. Ain't scraping by anymore. I'm enjoying life.
"Except when that asshole husband a' mine wanders into town."
By then her tears stopped, she released her death grip from the tailgate. She had even finished her beer and started drinking mine. She was so into her story I didn't think she even realized she'd taken mine. Which was fine by me. She needed it more than I did. I was more than fine with the two I had. Wasn't really my thing.
"So was taking the name Black Hat just to twist the knife further?" I asked.
She smiled. It was so bright I couldn't even believe she had been crying a few minutes earlier if her eyes weren't bloodshot, "Oh, more'n you know."
"Care to let me in on the joke?"
"I didn't invent the Black Hat identity. It's a legacy name. As long as there's been a White Hat dispensing justice there's been a Black Hat to make mischief."
"So you're saying your family were villains? Sounds like you and Wyatt had some sort of Romeo & Juliet thing going on."
"Oh, hell no. My family was poor white trash. Daddy was a ranch hand, before he ran off with another woman, and mama cleaned people's houses. Nothing to be proud of in that family tree. No, the last legit Black Hat died swinging from a rope when Wyatt was still in diapers.
"That family had a ranch around where they set off atom bombs. Made the last Black Hat completely sterile so he couldn't continue the line. Rumor was that they stayed knowing the dangers in the hopes the radiation would give their children super powers or something. If Wyatt's daddy hadn't executed Black Hat he was gonna' die a' cancer anyway.
"Wyatt's whole family was so damned proud a' how they'd outlasted the Black Hat family that I knew the moment I decided to strike out on my own I was gonna' resurrect the name. Just to twist the knife a bit more. It did kind a' backfire on me. Wyatt took it as a sign that I was doing all this because a' him. He thought that I still wanted him in some way because I was gonna' be his 'nemesis.'
"That was never a part of it. I only wanted to taunt him. I never planned on seeing him again. I was never gonna' return to Texas. If Wyatt hadn't tracked me down here I'd be free a' him. We weren't meant to battle it out like his daddy did with the last Black Hat. I've never even fought Wyatt while both of us were in costume. We always just have normal fights, screaming at each other in an embarrassing manner in parking lots."
"And he won't sign the divorce papers?" I asked.
"Nope. He refuses to. He thinks it's a waste a' time since we're destined to be together. He doesn't want to get divorced because we're just gonna' get re-married. Or some such shit. He told me that once. Seriously. There's not much I can do. I don't really got a lot of legal standing being an outlaw and all. At any time he could throw my ass in jail. It's his love for me which keeps him from doing that. If I pushed it harder, actually tried to get the law involved in this farce, then Wyatt would be forced to actually deal with me.
"The whole thing is stupid. I only wanna' divorce him so he'll leave me the fuck alone. I don't really care about the legalities. It's only a piece a' paper. Don't really mean much to me now. I don't consider myself married anymore. The night I tore outta' Texas I left everything behind. Husband and all."
She stopped speaking. She stared up at the stars for a while.
"Probably shoulda' changed my first name. Probably would've made it harder for Wyatt to find me. Oh, well. Live and learn. Probably end up shooting him sooner or later if he keeps bothering me."
"Do you still love him?"
"What? Why would ya' even think that? After all I told ya'?"
"Because you haven't gotten around to shooting him."
"Well, Luke, have ya' finished killing all your exes yet?"
"No!"
"Don't judge me then. I've killed at least one a' mine, so I'm ahead of ya' on points."
"...really?"
"What?"
"You've really killed an ex? Because I was just joking. Kind of."
"Ya' know me by now, Luke. Ya' know I ain't really the killing type. That brings down a lot more heat than I care for. I've not killed one person during one a' my robberies. Not one. I've...maimed a person or two during the course a' my career, but that's it."
"That's incredible."
"Not really. Nobody who works at a bank is really brave. Sorry, sweetie, it's true. Ya' guys don't want to die. Especially for somebody else's money."
"That's exactly right. In training we're taught complete compliance. Just give the robber whatever they want. The bank is insured for the loss."
"Yeah, ya' gave me everything I wanted alright," Beth smiled at me and squeezed my crotch. I jumped a little.
"I was afraid for my life."
"I bet ya' were," she scooted closer to me, nuzzling my neck with her mouth, planting light kisses with small bites intermixed. I was tempted to let her continue, but I couldn't. My mind was whirring.
"So why did you kill your ex?" Possibly the wrong thing to say. Probably the wrong thing to say. I couldn't help myself. I had to know. If I didn't ask now then I would never work up the nerve to ask again. I didn't want to know, but not knowing was worse. It was already pretty bad, the fantasy version. My mind was coming up with terrible scenarios which were probably miles beyond what she actually did. The brain was already figuring out something which involved terrible torture. Perhaps she tricked him into thinking he was getting some kinky sex, tied him down and then started cutting on him until he bled out. Then...
NO!
I had to shut those thoughts out. That wasn't Beth's style. If she killed a man it had to be in a fair fight. I also couldn't let that thought set up shop in my brain because I would probably have a panic attack the next time she pulled out the handcuffs.
"That's a fair question. Are ya' sure ya' wanna' hear the answer? I know ya' don't like to hear about the...nastier sides a' my life."
I took a deep breath. That was a good question. Did I want to hear about it? Really? If not I could pretend it didn't happen. I could keep pretending Beth wasn't a criminal, that she was a simple rancher who joked about robbing banks when she was bored.
No. I had to know. I didn't know if I loved her, truly loved her, but I felt something for her. Something which was much more than lust. I wasn't going to be able to keep the two sides of her separate and have this go on much longer. I felt that if I told her to keep quiet then that would be the beginning of the end for us. No matter how far along in the future the end was, this would be the moment it sprung from. I only hoped that I was man enough to handle it.
This could backfire on me as well. Hearing her story could be the end. It could shift her into a completely different light. No longer would she be my sweet Texan gal. She'd be a hardened killer, an unrepentant murderer.
Still, I couldn't be a coward anymore. Love meant taking chances. For good or bad I had to know.
"Tell me," I said in a little over a whisper. My throat was too dry to speak loudly.
"It was a guy named Kyle…something. Owens? Maybe that was it. He was a biker I met shortly after arriving in Paradiso. I liked him because he was the exact opposite of Wyatt. That's what I wanted. He wanted me because I was twenty and didn't mind sucking dick. Things were fine for a while. Not a long while. It was never supposed to be a long-term thing. Something to wipe the slate clean of me an' Wyatt.
"Then he started getting into drugs. That made him paranoid and super possessive. It started slow: him asking where I was going without him, who I was meeting up with. That type a' shit. Then it progressed to not letting me ride my own motorcycle. He started making me ride on the back a' his when we went out with his friends. He expected me to be his good little biker wife who maintained his shitty little house while he went out and had fun.
"I wasn't gonna' let him tie me down like that. I couldn't. I only stayed with him as long as I did because I was new to town and setting things up. By the time our relationship started heading south I already had some connections made and was setting myself up with a fake identity and a new apartment. Things would've been fine if he'd just let me leave. I was even gonna' leave the bike he 'bought' me and just sneak out."
"I'm starting to see a theme of how you end relationships," it was a joke I immediately regretted.
Beth turned red and scooted away from me, "I'll admit it's not the most graceful way a' doing things. But...why go through all that pain? Why even give the other person a chance to talk ya' out of what you're eventually gonna' do anyway?"
"Because maybe they love you? Or think they do and deserve the chance to plead their case?"
"I don't believe it works that way. I think the moment one person decides to end something then it's done. The other person could plead their case, hell, beg the person to stay...and they might. Probably will, because that moment is tough as hell. Only a monster would be able to just walk out at a moment like that. If they ever cared about the person at all. But after that then things return to normal. The doubts which made a person think about leaving in the first place return with reinforcements. So I think it's better to cut and run sometimes."
"Sometimes?" I asked.
"Luke, I ain't run out on everybody. Just Wyatt, Kyle and one other asshole. With all the other guys we had the sit down break-ups. I've done the normal girl things. I've cried and moped. The guys understood. They just weren't for me. There's even been a time when I got dumped. I was the dumbstruck person in a diner getting the 'we've drifted apart' speech. I was the one who got so angry at being dumped that I kicked the guy in the balls."
"I'm worried that my only options if I break up with you is either getting shot or getting kicked in the junk."
"Just be careful about breaking my heart. That'll keep you in better health."
"You sure do know how to keep a man around."
"Part a' my feminine charm. Ya' like living on the edge. It's why ya' keep me around."
"That is the main reason. Now tell me about the biker," I said.
"I already did," she replied.
"No, you almost told me. You got up to leaving him then you moved onto a tangent about kicking people in the dick. Which I'm not a fan of."
"Not your favorite topic?"
"No, it's not."
"So, anyway, I'm all packed and about to head out the door when I hear his bike rumble into the driveway. I thought about bolting out the back, but I didn't. For two reasons: first was that the sonnuvabitch parked his bike right behind my truck. Would've left it, but it was packed with all my stuff. In retrospect, none of it really mattered. I could've replaced it all pretty easy. Hell, I don't even own any of it now.
"Second was that sneaking out is a coward's way."
"Said the woman who was leaving without breaking up with her boyfriend," I said.
"Sneaking out is much different than leaving. There's a shame in slinking outta' the house like a rat. I was leaving the asshole and it was gonna' be easier if he didn't know about it. I decided to face it, get it over with then, since he was in the driveway
"He knew something was up and he was pissed by the time I exited the door. He was screaming up a storm, calling me all sort a' names. I didn't do anything except let him get it outta' his system. Trying to talk him down wasn't gonna' work. He called me every filthy name in God's creation. Don't know if he thought that would actually get me to stay with him. I never got that. He's angry at me for leaving, but does he really think calling me a cunt is gonna' make re-think leaving him?
"I expected him to run outta' steam, but instead he seemed to fuel himself with rage. His face turned such a dark shade a' purple I was sure he was gonna' have a stroke on the spot. I knew something bad was gonna' go down when he took a step towards me. Before that he was just venting. Taking that step meant he was gonna' get physical. If his house were in a better neighborhood then someone woulda' called the cops already instead a' watching us through their blinds. Though if we lived in a better neighborhood then he probably wouldn't have been a meth-head biker shouting at his bitch of a girlfriend.
"He got closer. I kept my hand off my gun. I wasn't prepared to kill him just yet. Then I saw the look in his eyes. They told me that he would be fine killing me. When he got close enough that's when he took a swing at me.
"It was a giant haymaker he fired at me. He never figured out that that punch only worked in crowded bars when he was sucker-punching someone. I slipped under it, got in close and punched him in the ribs. I felt a few a' them break and he dropped to the ground. At the time I figured that was it. I thought that I could just walk away. I made to move his bike away from my truck. That's when he pulled a gun on me.
"In the heat a' the moment I didn't even realize what I was doing. I saw him struggle to pull the gun from his holster. He hadn't even gotten it aimed at me when I drew down on him and fired. I got three shots off, all a' them right in the chest. It was so fast that he didn't even realize he'd been drawn on. He got his gun out and was still trying to aim at me before his body quit on him. He slumped onto the pavement right in front a' me.
"As I pointed my smoking gun's barrel in my ex's dead stupid face I realized what I had done. And that it didn't matter. I felt nothing. No joy, no regret, no sadness. He had been alive seconds earlier and now he was dead by my hand. I don't want to sound like I'm some sort a' sociopathic killer. I didn't get a thrill from killing him. I've met those guys before. They're scary as hell. Trust me, Luke, you do not want to be around those types a' killers. How I saw my situation was that Kyle intended to kill me so I killed him first. I felt nothing for his life because he viewed it as more important than mine.
"As I stood there, dumbly staring at the body of the man I killed, two of his buddies rolled up on their bikes. They were none too happy about what I'd done to their friend. They drew on me and I outgunned them, too. So, see why I wanted to just leave? All I wanted to do was slip away, go start my new life, the one I was meant to. Now I had ended three men's lives over stupid, petty bullshit."
"Wow," I said. Nothing more to say really. At least nothing that wouldn't sound stupider than 'wow.' I couldn't say that I was enthused about her killing three men in a break-up. I also couldn't say she was wrong to do it. Based on her story she really only had the one option. They intended to kill her, it was only their bad luck and her reflexes which caused them to be dead instead.
I wanted to believe her. I didn't have any reason not to. I'd been with her long enough that while I knew what she was, she wasn't incredibly violent about it. I could always check her story. There had to be at least one newspaper article about a shooting years back, possibly with eyewitness accounts.
What good would that really do me? She already told me she killed three men. Would lying about some of the details be that big of deal? No matter the outcome I would feel shitty. If I found a newspaper which corroborated her story perfectly down to the smallest detail then all it would do would make me feel like an asshole for not trusting her.
I sucked in a breath, released it as I stared up at the stars. I had wanted to know about her and now I did. I also had a nervous acid feeling in my stomach I wished I could blame on the two beers I drank.
"Are ya' okay with all this, hon?" she asked.
"I...think so. It's a whole lot to take in."
"I bet. Ya' know, I don't think I've ever told that story to anyone but Dana."
"Why only her?"
"She had to help me get rid of the rest of the bikers. Somehow they kept finding out my addresses. And the more I killed or sent to the hospital the worse it got. For both of us. Most a' their leadership ended up in the ground if they didn't end up in prison. They started having to send out methed out scrubs to try and kill me with rusty old shotguns. Finally they made the mistake of attacking me while I was hanging out with Dana."
"I can't imagine anyone trying anything dangerous when Dana's around."
"I told you these guys weren't exactly the cream a' the crop. She ended up kicking their heads off then asked me why she had to do that. After I told her what happened she set off to find out where they were operating out of. Dana is one hell of a tracker when she sets her mind to it. I swear, she must be part bloodhound or something."
Beth must have seen me gaping and answered my stupid question before I could ask it.
"Not literally, Luke. She ain't...she ain't human, but she's not made up of dogs. She followed their scent back to the flophouse they were crashing at. That was kind of funny. They had all these junker bikes lined up outside. Dana rolled up on hers. I don't think you've gotten to see it yet."
"Nope."
"Anyway, she rides this monster of a machine. Custom made to fit her. So much power in it that a normal man would die if he twisted the throttle. So she comes rolling up, her engine so loud the windows in the entire neighborhood are shaking. Two of the gang, who were probably supposed to be sentries, were lounging on the porch, smoking pot and drinking beer. They see her and know it's trouble. You've only seen happy, drunk Dana. When she gets pissed, like 'angry bikers are shooting at her friend' pissed, you can almost feel it radiate off her.
"As she walks towards the house she casually backhands one a' their motorcycles and sends them all crashing to the ground. Anyone else who did that the bikers would've been beating their ass with chains in a heartbeat. These two guys wet themselves. One a' them didn't even try to move when she got to him. Dana punched him and broke his neck.
"The second guy made a run for it. He jumped off the porch, but Dana caught him mid-air then threw him into the house...through the wall. She told me later she purposely missed the giant picture window. It was like something out of a cartoon. I was disappointed that the hole in the wall didn't look like a cutout of the asshole.
"Dana walked in the house through the hole. At first there were a lot of shouts and gun-fire. That quickly turned to bones cracking and screams of pain. I could've gone inside and helped. I wanted to. These assholes had been a major pain, but Dana decided it would be better if I waited outside by my truck and shoot anyone who tried to rabbit.
"Only one guy came out after Dana went in. And he wasn't escaping. He lurched out the front door holding his right hand over the stump of his left shoulder. He staggered a few steps down the walk before falling down dead. Couple a' minutes later Dana sauntered out the door, stepped over the body and got back on her bike. She didn't even have a hair out place and she had the biggest damned grin ever. She thanked me for the good time like I'd just taken her on a date.
"That's all there was to it. Haven't been bothered since."
"Seems like a lot," I said.
"No more'n anyone else. I'm sure you'd take about the same time ta' tell me your life story."
"Except mine would be filled more with boring stories about visiting Disneyland when I was six and less shooting bikers in the face."
"I didn't shoot 'em in the face...it was in the chest. Much more effective and easy to hit a center mass."
"My biography still doesn't anything to do with shooting anybody."
"Don't speak so soon. Your life ain't over yet."
"Only because I haven't broken up with you."
