All for Maddie

by Jettie Woodruff

  You moved up to my mouth and slid your dick between my lips. You fucked my mouth while you spoke dirty things to me. Telling me how I liked sucking your dick: ah yes baby, take it all, suck my dick. I guess you don’t remember any of that either. Do you?”

  “Whitley,” Alex said, touching my arm, trying to stop me again.

  I jerked away and continued. “My gag reflexes didn’t even work. You shoved your dick clear down my throat and I couldn’t gag. I couldn’t do a Goddamn thing, but lay there and wait for it to be over. You even had the nerve to tell me I needed to stop before you shot your load in my mouth.

  You moved between my legs and stroked me with your tongue. That’s the part that made it okay in your mind. That’s the part where you sucked and teased my clitoris while you finger fucked me with two fingers. That’s when I had an orgasm. Right before you shoved your dick inside of me. That part wasn’t numb either, Alex. I felt you rip my virginity from my body while you pinched my nipples between your teeth. I felt that too.

  You fucked me nice and slow and then faster and harder. You rolled me over and fucked me sideways, towering above me on your knees. You rolled me over more and fucked me from behind. You pulled me to the side of the bed and fucked me standing up. That’s when you had enough. That’s when you told me that you were going to come and I was going to swallow it. You frantically pumped in and out of me and then suddenly pulled out, came to my mouth, and shoved your dick down the back of my throat. I felt that too. I tasted it, but guess what Alex? You left some behind. You left just enough to create Maddie.”

  I was crying by the time I got it all out. “That is the last thing I remembered until my friends came to find me fully clothed passed out. They were laughing at me for being drunk and passing out in your bed. Did you go tell them that I passed out drunk in your bed?”

  “Come here, Whitley,” Alex spoke in a quiet voice. I came off the bed when he tried to pull me to him. Really? Did he really think I was going to permit him to touch me?

  “Don’t fucking touch me! Don’t you ever fucking touch me!” I had to get out of there. I couldn’t be in the same room with him.

  Thank God the downstairs was dark. Dana had gone to bed. I sat in the dark living room with my legs pulled up to my chest on the end of the sofa. I’m not sure how long I sat there, but I was sure it was a while. Alex never came after me which was a good thing. I’m not sure I would have been able to control my elevated voice.

  “Hey, you okay?” my dad asked, sitting beside me, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me close. I wanted to cry.

  “Yeah, I’m okay, just couldn’t sleep,” I lied.

  “Did you and Alex have a fight?”

  “No, why would you think that?”

  “I heard you yelling.”

  Shit, did he hear what I was yelling?

  “I couldn’t make out a word of it, but I could tell you weren’t very happy with him,” he said, kissing the side of my head. “It’s hard to start a new relationship, Whit. Especially when you first start living together. I swore I would go crazy that first year with Dana. She used to squeeze the toothpaste from the middle. That drove me insane,” he snickered. I wished I was mad at Alex for squeezing the toothpaste from the middle. “It’ll get easier. You guys have a lot to learn about each other, but I do think you are doing the right thing by making a go of it. He sure loves that baby in there. That means a lot to me.”

  “I know it does, Daddy.”

  “I can’t believe how much I miss her. I hate feeding her fish. Every time I do, I hear her look up and say, ‘I feed a fish, Papaw.’ I even dropped an M&M in there the other day,” he laughed.

  “She misses you too, but I’m glad there are no fish here.”

  He laughed again. “I’m sure you are. You better get some sleep,” he coaxed, kissing the side of my head again before leaving me to my dark thoughts.

  “I will. Night.”

  “Night, sweetie.”

  I never went back upstairs with Alex. I went in and snuggled with my Maddie.

  <><><>

  “You sweep wif me,” Maddie exclaimed in the morning. I smiled down at her.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “No, dem gemin’s did sweep under da bed.”

  “No, they didn’t. Gremlins aren’t real. They’re like daddy’s big TV, they’re just pretend.” Was she ever going to forget about gremlins?

  “I did see one.”

  “I think it was just in your dream.”

  “I need a gun.”

  I laughed. Was she going to shoot the damn things?

  “Papaw here!” she remembered, sliding off the bed.

  “You go potty,” I called after her.

  I lay on Maddie’s bed, staring up at the ceiling and the light peering in from the top of the curtain, thinking about the night before. I said some pretty rotten things. I got pretty vulgar in my description of that night. I lay there contemplating what I was supposed to do and what was expected of me for a long time. I was young. I was only twenty-one and had no choice but to live this messed up life. I needed a gun. For who, I wasn’t sure. Maddie did need her daddy and he loved her. That part I was sure of.

  “Papaw teld you come eat beakast,” Maddie yelled, from the door in nothing but her panties.

  “Come here. Where are your clothes?” I asked, pulling myself out of bed and to her dresser.

  “I did take em off.”

  “Why?”

  “A sweeping time over now. I not wear jammies dis time,” she explained, raising her foot for her shorts. God I loved that kid.

  I walked out with Maddie, avoiding the look from Alex as he sipped his coffee. I retrieved my cellphone and opened up the new text message sent at four in the morning, looking right at Alex.

  I’m sorry. I remember every single detail.

  I erased it.

  <><><>

  I told Maddie, from the back seat of my dad’s car, that I would come and get her in a couple of days. My dad insisted that they would bring her home, but I didn’t want them to. I needed to go home to my house for a couple of days. I needed out of Alex’s house and wished he would take me with him.

  I walked to the kitchen and started cleaning up from breakfast, ignoring Alex as I passed him.

  “Can we talk?” he asked, sliding to the stool.

  “No,” I replied, walking out and leaving him alone.

  I spent the entire day in my room doing nothing. I messed around on my laptop. Called Maddie, and then Kylie, hoping she would want to get together. She was out of town. Figures, I called Regan next, wondering if she was busy. It was Saturday so she was probably doing family things with her perfect little girl and her perfect husband.

  “WHAT!” she answered in a scream. I hesitated, taken aback by her angry tone.

  “Regan?”

  “Oh sorry, Whitley. I thought you were my asshole husband again. We kind of had a fight.”

  “It must be in the air. Where is he?”

  “He took Trenton to a Red Sox game.”

  “You don’t go with them?”

  “No, I hate baseball. That’s their thing, besides he went with a guy from work and his daughter. What’s up?”

  “Not much. Bored and I’m not talking to your brother.”

  “Want to go do something?”

  “Uh, yeah,” I replied, happy that Alex had a sister and one that I liked.

  “Okay, I’ll pick you up in an hour. What do you want to do?”

  I looked at the clock, reading six pm. “Are you allowed to go to a bar?”

  “Honey, I wear the pants in this family, but I have to eat first.”

  “I haven’t eaten either. We can get something out.” I wasn’t cooking for that jerk. He could eat shit. I didn’t care.

  “Okay, see you in a little while.”

  I wasn’t expecting Alex to be out of his man cave when I emerged from getting ready.

  “You look nice, going somewhere?” he asked, looki
ng up from what looked like a bowl of soup.

  “Yup, going out with your sister.”

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. My sister is kind of crazy. I would rather you didn’t do that.”

  Really? I snickered and shook my head. “Yeah, and I would rather you go to hell. We don’t always get what we want.”

  “Whitley, this arrangement is never going to work if you don’t let go.”

  “This arrangement? Are you serious right now? I didn’t choose this arrangement. You did. I didn’t get a choice in the matter or did you forget that too?” I asked, opening the door and slamming it behind me. At least the son of a bitch had nerve. Thank God, Regan was coming down the street as I left.

  “Where we going?” I asked getting in and buckling up.

  “I thought we would just go to Blue Moon.”

  “Blue Moon?”

  “Yeah, it’s just some small dive bar. It’s out of the city limits. The cops stakeout all the bars in the city. I don’t want to have to call my husband to bail me out of jail.”

  “Did you make up?”

  “No, we never make up. We just forget it. He sent me a text message that said I love you so that means were done fighting about it. It was dumb anyway. We were supposed to take Trenton school shopping today. They both deserted me for a stupid ballgame.”

  I laughed, wishing Alex and me were fighting over a stupid ballgame.

  “What about you? What did my stupid brother do now?” she asked.

  I turned away briefly, looking out the window. “It’s complicated,” I replied, hoping that was enough. It was. She smiled a weak smile and moved on.

  “I love your dad,” she said, changing the subject.

  “Thanks. I was nervous about you guys meeting him. He can be a little rough around the edges sometimes.”

  “And so can my mother,” she assured me.

  “We’re not going in here, Regan,” I demanded, pulling into Blue Moon. Blue Moon, the biker bar.

  “Yes, we are, now get out.”

  “Regan, this is a biker bar. We’ll get raped and murdered or some shit.”

  Regan laughed at me. “We’re not going to get raped or murdered. And they have the best food in all of Lincoln.”

  I followed her in not liking it. I didn’t like it at all. This was going to be bad. I could feel it.

  The bar was pretty empty, only a couple of guys at the bar, a couple in a corner shooting pool, and two women and two guys playing cards at a table.

  “The usual?” the tattooed bartender asked.

  The usual? I repeated in my head. Did Regan hang out in a biker bar often?

  “Yeah, thanks Sam, make it two, and we need menus.”

  We drank one drink of something. I’m not sure what it was, but I didn’t like it. I ordered my customary bottle of Bud next. Regan was right. The food was delicious, either that or I was just starving from sitting in my room all day pouting.

  By nine o’clock the bar was full of guys in cut off jean vests and tattooed arms. Women wore skimpy tight shirts, biker boots, and jeans. They weren’t like the bikers I had watched on television at all. They were good ol’ boys and funny as shit. Regan knew several of them.

  “Hey Regan, you owe me a chance to win back my bet,” a burley biker called, holding out a pool stick toward us.

  “No way, my mother is still pissed about your life time ticket to her theater,” Regan called.

  “Hey, tell your mother, my kid appreciates the hell out of that win. Come on, you got my choker last time. You owe me.”

  “And you almost got me divorced when I lost the bet for a tattoo.”

  “You have a tattoo?” I asked shocked as hell.

  “Shhh, my family doesn’t know about that. I was drunk.”

  “You have season tickets for putt, putt golf.”

  “I never use them. You have my bra?”

  What?

  The biker laughed on that one.

  “Yeah Regan, I almost shot him in the head when he came home with that one. No more betting underwear,” a girl called from throwing darts.

  “Sorry Roxy, that was the only thing I had on me that night,” Regan laughed.

  “I’ll bet you drinks for the rest of the night,” the biker challenged, not about to let it go.

  “Can you shoot pool?” she asked, turning to me.

  “I’m not getting any tattoos or giving up any clothing.” I could shoot pool. I was damn good at it. Jaron was a shark and he had taught me moves that I was sure they hadn’t seen.

  “You’re on, Red” Regan called, holding up two fingers to the bartender for two more drinks.

  We shot partners with Red and a guy they called Thorn. Red broke and went two more times, claiming the low balls. I went next and last. I cleared the table with one turn. I was good, but I didn’t think I was that good. I was trying like hell not to show my excitement. I had never done that in my life. Regan and both men stood holding sticks with their mouths hanging to the floor.

  “We were hustled,” Red was sure.

  “How could you be hustled? You’re the one that wouldn’t shut the hell up until we played,” Regan retaliated.

  “How the hell did you bank that eight ball like that?” Thorn asked. “You gotta teach me,” he begged.

  “I can’t be giving away my secrets,” I joked. It took me a whole summer to get that move down.

  “Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.”

  “Wait, aren’t you buying me drinks anyway?” I teased.

  “I’ll buy you a house.”

  I laughed. “Okay, okay. Line it up,” I said, giving in.

  Thorn set up the difficult shot, recreating the balls as they were.

  “Okay, you can’t shoot this like a normal bank shot,” I explained. “You can’t just cut it in and bank it like you normally would. You have to hit it hard with center ball, aiming toward the left of the eight ball.”

  “Wait, you just said hit it center ball,” he questioned.

  “Yeah, hit the Q ball center, aiming for the left of the eight ball.”

  “Oh, oh, I get it,” he said as I lined up my shot.

  “You want to hit it with about a seven speed,” I continued, swinging my hips into it, hitting it perfect straight to the side pocket.

  “Okay, okay, let me try,” he said, lining it back up.

  He missed, over and over and over.

  “Do it again,” he finally said.

  I did, again, making it the first try.

  “What the fuck?” he asked as everyone laughed. I loved it.

  Regan and I walked back to the bar for our free drinks, leaving Thorn alone, trying not to be showed up by a girl.

  That night was just what I needed. Regan was right. Those guys were awesome. Nobody tried to hit on us and even the biker women were overly friendly. By eleven o’clock, we were hammered and I was having the best time I’d had since I’d been forced to move there. I could get used to hanging out there.

  “You know we’re going to have to call our men, don’t you?” Regan slurred, leaning into me.

  “I’m not calling my man. Your man can drive my ass drunk…assed drunked….drunk ass home,” I said, finally getting it right.

  Regan laughed and after one more drink she called Vince.

  “You have to call Alex,” she said.

  “Uh-uh. Why?”

  “Trenton’s already in bed.”

  Damn. “You call him.”

  “What? You’re the one sleeping with him. You do it.”

  “No way, let’s hitch a ride with one of these guys,” I countered. She laughed.

  “I’m not getting on the back of a bike with any of these guys,” she assured me.

  “I’ll shoot you for it,” I wagered.

  “Forget it, I might as well just do it.”

  I listened to the one sided conversation, wishing I could hear what he was saying.

  “Hey, little brother,” she cheerfully spoke into her phone.
>
  “So, you see the thing is, Whitley here’s a little drunk. She needs a ride home.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Could you maybe give me a ride too?” she smiled at me.

  “Blue Moon.”

  “Because I like it here.”

  “So.”

  “Are you coming to get us or you just going to lecture me all night? I am the eldest, you know?”

  Chapter 9

  The ride home was quiet, well, once loud mouth Regan got out anyway. Alex didn’t speak. I’m sure he didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t speaking either, not until I tried to step into the house and stumbled. He held my arm to steady me, landing us chest to chest. Damnit, I hated being around men drunk. I needed to get laid. I needed to call Jaron.

  “You okay to make it to bed by yourself?” he asked, holding my arms.

  “No, maybe you should help me,” I countered, pulling his shirt above his stomach. Holy fuck, I shouldn’t have touched his bare skin. He grabbed my hands to stop me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I am doing?” I pulled my hands from his and ran them up his ribs. He stopped me again.

  “Go to bed, Whitley.”

  I slid my hands around his neck and kissed him, not like the little pecks that he had been giving me for show. This was a full blown sexy as hell wet kiss. He kissed me back, briefly before pulling away.

  “What, Alex? Am I not passed out enough for you? I bet two more drinks would do it,” I said, turning and walking to the liquor cabinet. He stopped me there too.

  “Go to bed, Whit. You’re not drinking anymore.”

  “Fine, come with me,” I said removing my shirt, clumsily. He didn’t move. He stared like I had dumbfounded him, like he was fighting his own demons. I moved my naked body back to his and leaned into him, placing my hands on the snaps of his jeans. I could see his erection as I looked down to my hands. He did want me. It was obvious.