Tuck’s Revenge
by Rory Flannigan
© Copyright July 2015 JK Publishing, Inc.
ISBN#978-1-311-69196-5
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All rights reserved.
Cover by Jess Buffett
Published by JK Publishing, Inc.
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
Books by Rory Flannigan
Excerpt from Two Worlds Collide-A Biker’s Journey
JK Publishing Inc.
Prologue
When a man is faced with the end of a sawed off shotgun pressing into the back of his head, he thinks of how he got here. For Jack Tucker Jr. the tale is tragic, heartbreaking, and scary as fucking shit. Needless to say, at this point he had nothing to gain by rehashing the decisions he made, but still, it was a fact of life when faced with death, especially a violent death, you are gonna think about shit. He had plenty of time, the man he wanted had not arrived, and he was waiting on his knees with his hand behind his back to die.
“Hey, do you think when a man dies that all the shit he has done in his life, especially the shit he doesn’t feel sorry about, is gonna go with him?” Tuck said softly.
“What the fuck are you babbling about, man, just shut up and wait,” the muther fucker who was holding the gun to his head snapped. MF, that is what he was calling the man and Tuck grinned, yeah, right before his death he was still cussing, his momma would be so pissed off.
“Don’t have no one else to talk to, and while I am waiting to die, seems natural I would want to have a conversation with someone, even you, MF.” Tuck smiled and felt the push of the gun in the base of his skull.
“Don’t matter what the fuck you wanna talk about, in a little while you are going to hell and the bossman is gonna be the one sending you there,” MF said.
“See, that is what I am talking about, how do you know I am going to hell? I mean, you are the dirty muther fuckers who caused all this shit, I am just the one who was trying to make you pay. I think the good outweighs the bad, don’t you? I mean, I haven’t fucked a goat or anything like that,” Tuck said, then kept talking, “Okay, I have done some shit, but who hasn’t. I figure the good outweighs the bad, so what, I killed a bunch of crazy muthers who probably have fucked a goat.”
“Shut the fuck up,” MF growled and Tuck grinned.
“Sorry, don’t mean to talk about your daddy.”
“I swear, one more word and you are gonna be dead,” MF yelled and pressed the gun tighter into the base of Tuck’s neck.
“I am just wondering how God is gonna see a biker. I still figure the good outweighs the bad, don’t you? You know, I remember this one time…” Tuck smiled. Oh, how he loved to screw with folks and the guy behind him was no different. Might as well enjoy himself.
Tuck was still grinning as he thought about the conversation he’d had and continued talking to the current MF.
“I’d been on my way across New Mexico and pulled into a bar on the outskirts of Cloudcroft to have a couple of beers. When I walked in, it seemed laid back enough, but sometimes if you come to the wrong town, all it takes is riding in on a Harley, and automatically you are labeled. I wasn't inside five minutes, or even finished my first beer, when a big-bellied cop came through the door and asked whose bike is that out front?
“I looked up at him and told him it's mine, is there a problem? Then the cop walked over wanting to know where in the hell I was from.
"Told him Texas, and that I was just passing through. Like I never had gotten crap before. Being a biker, every cop looks at you the same way he was looking at me.
"He asked for ID. Told him I had it and would he like to see it? I was even polite, though I did want to put my foot up the guy’s ass.
“Jackass then shot back at me, "What I want is for you to get up and ride out of here just as quick as you can," like I gave a crap he had an attitude but I played his game anyway. I told him that I better do just that before somebody got hurt.
“Little prick smiled and said, "Yeah, you can get hurt around here, boy, so don't come back. You got that?”
"So I walked out the door, got on my bike, and rode away. After I was just a couple of miles down the road, a fast moving vehicle came up on my rear and followed me for a ways, then turned on the red lights. Sure enough, it was the cop from the restaurant.
“I pulled over and got off my bike. When the cop walked up, he said, "Where do you think you're going, boy? I told you to get out of my town, not go into it.”
"I'm going this way, was what I told him, setting him off. Don’t take much when you are dealing with someone that has ‘Little Man Syndrome’.
"Barney Fife told me I wasn’t going through his town so I needed to go the opposite direction. I agreed all the while thinking, another time and another place, I'd cure all his ills. But instead I turned around and headed back in the direction I’d come.
“T
he cop had no idea just how lucky he was that day. But then I did get even with the sheriff’s daughter, who I tracked down and fucked against the wall of the station house.” Tuck went quiet as he thought about that particular encounter.
He felt her pushing against him a little faster, and knew she was ready. He braced his hands on the wall and moved a little so with each pass his cock brushed against her now engorged clit. She panted and made sexy noises so he knew he had been successful. He wanted her daddy to hear, or at least one of the deputies to tell him.
He moved faster, the woman keeping up with him stroke for stroke, then she yelled and Tuck knew her orgasm was building again as she tightened around him. Tuck pushed harder and made sure he could feel her slick pussy clamping down so tight on him that he emptied his seed into her.
Tuck had collapsed against her and was panting like he had run six miles in boot camp. They were both slick with sweat and he felt her shiver when reality and the cool air finally registered with her. Tuck slapped her ass and grinned as he pulled up his pants and walked away.
Yeah that muther fucker could kiss his ass. If this made him a bastard, oh well, he could live with that.
“Yeah, nailed his daughter, so you think that would do it? I mean, the asshole got what he deserved right?” Tuck laughed and MF growled. Tuck was quiet once again thinking about how he had gotten into his current situation. If he had to guess, it all started back when he was eighteen. Mostly because before that, nothing bad had happened to him.
Absolutely nothing.
Chapter One
Revenge: to exact punishment or expiation for a wrong on behalf of, especially in a resentful or vindictive spirit.
Fifteen years before…
Jack Tucker Jr. came from a normal home in a small town in Texas. His parents were normal, his friends were normal, and his life was normal. Nothing would ever indicate the pure evil that would touch their lives. Jack’s mother and father were a happy couple, raised two children, him and his sister, Elizabeth, on a farm and worked hard for everything they had. Jack was raised with morals, good ones, and ones that changed when he enlisted in the Army at the ripe old age of eighteen.
“Son, couldn’t be more proud of you,” his father said to him in his ear as they were saying goodbye. Jack leaned back and smiled at his father, he was the type of man Jack wanted to become, a good man with a family who worked hard. This was his first step in making that happen. The men were like mirror images of each other, both tall, over six foot, both with broad shoulders from working on the farm, and both were handsome as all git out; at least that is what his mother said repeatedly.
“Thanks, Dad,” Jack muttered and then held his father’s eyes. “Couldn’t be more prouder of you either.”
They had a solid relationship, none of the rebellious crap some teens went through, and besides, his father never would have stood for it. He was hard but fair, and Jack loved him with everything in him.
“My boy,” Haley Tucker said with tears in her eyes. His mother was the picture perfect version of a Texas woman. Soft and loving, she wore denim jeans and a checker shirt just like every other day Jack could remember. But it was her long blond hair that always caught everyone’s attention, it was the color of wheat, and always pulled back into a ponytail, it didn’t matter, she looked like a Prom Queen anyway.
“Ma,” Jack muttered and took her into his arms, yeah he had to bend over, just like his dad, but it was worth it to smell her shampoo one last time.
“Now,” his mother whispered, “know you can’t be writing every other second to let your mama know you are safe, but lie to me and tell me you are gonna write every second you are free to humor me.”
Jack grinned and leaned back. “Course I will, you are my girl, aren’t ya?”
His sister made a noise and he turned. She looked just like their momma, petite, blond hair, and wholesome. “I thought I was your favorite?” she sniffed.
Jack laughed and pulled her to his side and looked down at both women who meant more to him that anyone in the world. “You both are, no one will ever be as good as you.”
“Well,” Haley sniffed. “Your future wife may have something to say about that.”
It was a battle for his mother. He was growing up too fast, and he knew it since she said it time and time again. She had tried to convince him to stay at home and find a nice young woman to settle down with instead of joining the Army. He had declined, he wasn’t ready to settle down. She should have known it since during high school he was popular with the girls. Day and night they called, and his mother would roll her eyes calling him the Casanova of the school. None perfect though, his mom told him to settle for nothing less and he reminded her of that when he signed up.
“There ain’t no one here who is perfect for me. I need someone like my ma.” He always teased and Haley still would beam her smile and nod every single time.
“Besides, when I find her I will make sure she knows about my mom and sister and how important they are. Nothing is gonna change that.” Jack laughed and kissed both of them goodbye. He didn’t realize how much was going to change when he left, or he would have done something—anything different.
When Vietnam had started and Jack being Jack, and his father’s son, he felt a sense of responsibility to help defend his country. So did his best friend, Steven. The two did everything together and truthfully, Jack couldn’t remember a time when they were not best friends. Hell, Steven could have been his brother since his parents were lowlife scum who didn’t care where he was half the time. Steven spent more time at his home than any place else. Stood to reason why the two enlisted together. So Jack turned to see his father speaking quietly to Steven who was also nodding.
“You too, you make something of yourself, they have no part in your future,” his father said and then slapped Steven on the shoulder. His mom and sister tearfully hugged his best friend as well and then they were off.
The Army was hard, and they didn’t give a fucking rat’s ass the two boys had grown up together and they separated them into different squadrons. But Jack being Jack made sure his best friend knew where he was and he kept track of his best friend too. So after only being in the military for a year, and during that time seeing the worst of humanity in the Vietnam War, stood to reason that when he heard his friend was MIA he had completely lost it. He went off the deep end and became the killer the US Army was paying for. His father and mother wouldn’t know anything about this since he’d stopped writing. They only knew their boy had suffered a loss.
It had been a little more than eight years since Jack Jr. had been home, and there were several glaring changes since he'd been gone. On the bus ride home, he noticed the change in the landscape that used to be familiar, now among the familiar were new things like supermarkets where farms used to be, parking lots where pastures lay, and houses were built where the old motorcycle trails used to be, and where he and Steven learned to ride their dirt bikes.
His homecoming was tearful with his parents and Tuck knew he had a lot to account for, he had fallen out of touch with them, mostly because he didn’t want them to know the kind of man he had turned into, one hell bent on killing the bastards who took his best friend.
“My boy,” Haley cried when he stepped off the bus. They had known he was coming home and of course they had met him, they were the first people he saw when the bus pulled to a halt. Jack dropped his bags and for the first time in eight years, he felt his mom’s arms wrap around him. He instantly buried his head into her neck and sniffed, the scent of her shampoo had not changed, home—she smelled of home. Fuck, he was not the same man, but for the first time in a long time, he wanted to be.
His father hung back. Jack knew why, he was studying him. He looked to see his father’s sharp gaze look over every inch of him. He was different, bigger, more muscular, and harder, the lines in his face were the key and his father took in every inch of it. He was a man now, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want his father’s
approval. He did, he needed it. With a nod, his father walked toward him and grabbed his arm, pulling him into a hug.
“You are a man now, and no matter what happened you are still our son.” His father whispered into his ear, “We will make it through.”
His father had known, the years of fighting and the toll they had, and Jack relaxed in his father’s arms and let him take the weight of the last eight years off him. The killing, the death, everything that scored a mark on his soul was lifted; all because his father, in his few short words, accepted the change and hardness in him now.
“Where is Liz?” Jack muttered and his father froze. Well shit, something else that had changed he didn’t know about.
“We will discuss it later, your ma has made a nice big welcome home meal and we ain’t spoiling it,” his father growled and then slapped him on the shoulder again. “Let’s get you home.” Together, with his mom on one side and his dad on the other, they went home, right where he had hoped he would finally find peace. Instead, it was the last thing he would find.
During the next two days he had been busy getting his stuff sorted and receiving guests from the town who welcomed him back. His mother had cooked up a storm the whole time, making all of his favorites from his youth to show how much she missed him, and whenever the subject of his sister came up, everyone avoided it. Finally, he got his dad alone.
“Come on, Dad, tell me,” Jack had insisted without hesitation, his father knew what he was talking about even though he had walked into the barn and said those words without a greeting.
Jack Sr. sighed and picked up his pitchfork and stuck it into some hay and moved it to the horses stall. “Nothing good gonna come outta this,” he muttered and his dad had been right, but it still had to be said even it had not been any of their fault.
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