Preppy, Part Three, The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater (King, #7)

by T. M. Frazier

  “I can believe it,” I said, tipping her chin to me. “Because I believe in you.”

  “So are you going to tell me? Or what?” Dre asked, knowing I’d just came from a hearing at the county. I was officially the first licensed medical marijuana grower in the state. King, Bear, and I were going legit...ish.

  “We got it,” I told her, not able to hide my smile.

  “Holy shit!” She leapt into my arms and wrapped her legs around me, sending a jolt of awareness down to my cock when her heat brushed up against me.

  Her eyes darkened and she bit her lip. I backed her up against the wall. “What do you say we start a new tradition?”

  “What’s that?” she asked as I ground my hard cock against her softness.

  “I think this house needs to be christened.” I gripped her ass tighter, making her very aware of my intentions.

  Her moan was the only response I needed. Within seconds I’d stripped her of her shorts and had her lying against the stairs while I drove into her tight pussy over and over again until our screams echoed throughout the empty house.

  I fell to the side of her and rested my head on her tits. I traced my fingers over her little belly.

  “I still can’t believe I’m actually pregnant,” she said, watching me.

  I scoffed. “I can’t believe you underestimated the power I was packing.”

  “Hmmmmm. I think I’m still underestimating it.” I glanced up at her. “Do you think you can show me this power you speak of again?”

  My cock jumped to attention almost as fast as I did.

  “Fuck yeah I can.” I slide back into my wife, feeling love, happiness, and never more alive. I’d continue to make sure she’d feel every ounce of love I had for her. I made her promises that I’d keep or die trying.

  Until Not even death do us part.

  EPILOGUE

  One Month Later...

  Preppy

  “Shit,” I swore. Jumping when pancakes shoved his cold nose against the back of my pant leg. I’d almost dropped the box I’d been carrying, my shoulder still weak from the gunshot wound, but overall it was healing nicely. I pointed at Pancakes. “Dude, it’s frowned upon to come at someone from behind without proper warning, trust me, I know these things,” I scolded.

  King appeared in the doorway. “He’s always doing that. It’s kind of his thing,” he said. The coyote darted out the door and disappeared. “Guess he doesn’t like being told what to do either.”

  “Guess not,” I agreed.

  King followed me over to my car.

  “So tell me this Boss-Man. Did Bear think he’s such a big biker badass that he couldn’t just go get a regular dog at the pound like a normal person?” I asked. “I mean he could have gotten a lab or a poodle, or even one of those ones that mixes the two, a labradoodle or some shit. No. The motherfucker had to go get himself a goddamned coyote.”

  King snickered. “This coming from the guy with a giant pig?”

  “Oscar’s the shit man. Seriously, though. I’m getting Bear a goldiepoo or some shit for Christmas.”

  “You settled down and now you’re an expert on the perfect family dog?”

  “Once you’re married you’ll understand,” I said sarcastically.

  “Oh that? We got tired of putting it off, so we just went and did the thing,” King said like it was no big deal. I noticed a tattoo on his hand I’d never noticed before with Ray and the kid’s names linked together around his ring finger.

  “Oh yeah, that...Wait, what! You did what?” I asked. “And I wasn’t invited?”

  “Nobody was. It was the day we stuck you with the kids. I was getting tired of having her not be my wife and she told me she didn’t want the shindig so we just did it. Now she’s Mrs. Brantley King and I’m an old married man just like you.”

  “Wow, congrats, man,” I said. “Do you think when Bear gets married he’s gonna have the full out biker wedding with brawls and revving engines during the ceremony?”

  “Probably,” King agreed.

  “I wonder if he’ll wear a shirt...”

  “So you finally came to get the rest of your shit?” King asked, pointing to the box in my arms.

  I set it down in my trunk and slammed it shut, brushing the dust off my hands by clapping them together. “Yeah, figured it didn’t do you any good to have it lying around here taking up space when I’m not living here anymore.”

  King and I both leaned up against my trunk. He lit a cigarette and passed me his lighter so I could do the same.

  “I know I’ve been gone for a bit and I still come over pretty much all the time,” I said, looking up at the house that had been my home for ten years, minus several months in Narnia. “And it feels weird to say this, but I’m gonna miss this place. I think leaving some of my shit here made it feel like I hadn’t really moved out, not all the way. Now? Now it all feels really fucking real.”

  “What are you going to miss about it the most? The parties? Girls? All the bad fucking decisions we made?” King asked with a smile. He took a long drag of his cigarette, ashing it onto the gravel.

  “Hey, I’ll have you know that some of my favorite memories started with those bad decisions,” I pointed out. “I feel the need to defend all of the ridiculous fun we had here.”

  “You remember the day we moved in?” King asked, looking up at the house.

  “Like it was yesterday.”

  “It was a good day,” King said.

  I scratched my nose and waved the smoke from my eye. “It was the BEST fucking day ever, Boss-Man,” I agreed. “The BEST.”

  King nodded and we both just stood there, staring at the house as if we were waiting for it to chime in with an opinion. The day we moved in really was a great day. Neither one of us owned much so when we moved from the roach infested apartment we’d been renting previously it only took one trip. And then it was just the two of us in an empty house with an old boom box. We took turns choosing songs to play while swigging from the bottle of whiskey and snorting lines off the kitchen counter.

  “We were just a couple of stupid kids back then,” I said. “It was so run down then.” I pointed to the fresh paint and new siding. “I like what you’ve done with the place. How you and Ray have fixed it all up. It looks more adult and less ‘hey lots of illegal shit going down inside.’”

  King snickered. “It was a great house then and it’s a great house now. It’s just a different kind of great.” He cocked his head to the side. “You know that you can build out the rest of the garage if you guys want to stay here with the fam. There could be room for everyone. I mean, shit, you can build all the way to the seawall if you want. It’s your house too you know. Always has been.” King lowered his voice. “You don’t gotta live anywhere else.”

  I put a hand on King’s shoulder. “I think that’s the most consecutive sentences I’ve ever heard you speak at one time,” I deadpanned.

  King punched me in the arm and I rubbed it, pretending like he’d actually hurt me. Although in reality, it stung like a motherfucker, but I’d never let him know that.

  “You know what I fucking mean, Prep,” King said. “I don’t want you to think you can’t be here. You know, ‘cause Ray wants you here.”

  “Oh, RAY wants me here. Is that it?” I teased. “No one else.”

  “Yup. Just her. I think you should get the fuck off my driveway,” King said, throwing me a side-glance, his shoulders shook as he silently laughed at his own joke.

  I sighed. “It’s not like I’m on the other side of the moon. I’m only a few blocks away. I tell you what, when you get sad and lonely and need your Preppy fix you can come cuddle with me if you get tired of cuddling that fine ass woman of yours,” I said.

  “I don’t see that happening,” King said with the kind of grin plastered on his face he didn’t even own before Ray showed up.

  “Yeah, I didn’t think so,” I agreed.

  King sighed. “Well, if you insist on leaving then I have somet
hing for you. Two things actually.” He shoved two paper sized yellow envelopes into my hands.

  “What the fuck is this?” I asked, turning it over to inspect it. “Anthrax?”

  “Yeah, Prep. Your moving out gifts are envelopes full of deadly poison,” King said flatly. “Just fucking open them.”

  “Hey, you always gotta ask,” I said, opening the top and peering inside. “What the fuck is all this?” I pulled out one of the baseball sized rolls of cash among about a dozen other thick stacks of hundreds.

  “I told you,” King said. “It’s always been our house. We bought it together. Put the same money, sweat, and elbow grease into the place.” He pointed to the cash. “You’re moving on, so that’s your half of what the place is worth.”

  “I think you’re way over estimating the value,” I argued. “There’s way too much in here.”

  Although to me it would always be priceless.

  King pushed his hands in his back pockets. “That’s because it’s also your split of everything, from when you were gone. Besides, you’re about to be a dad again. You’re gonna need it.”

  “Boss-Man,” I started. “You don’t have to.” I held out the envelope for him to take it. “I never expected you to do this. I don’t need you to give me any fucking money. I still got a shit ton of guilt money left anyway. And you’re right, this place has always been ours. Whichever of us lives in it doesn’t even matter to me. This...this never even crossed my fuckin’ mind.”

  “I know it didn’t,” King said, refusing to take it back. “But it’s yours anyway. I ain’t taking it back.”

  “Thanks, Boss-Man,” I said shoving the cash back in the envelope and tucking it under the crook of my arm.

  “So what’s this one?” I asked, shaking the second envelope and listening for any tell tale signs of its contents shaking around.

  “Anthrax,” King deadpanned.

  “You’re getting funny in your old age.”

  King glanced down at his phone. “I gotta go get the kids. Open that when you get home.” He held out his hand, but instead of bro hugging him like he was expecting, I pulled him in for the real deal. We stood there for a moment, below the steps of the house we bought together the second we could scrape up the cash, with neither one of us in a rush to let the other go.

  When we pulled back we didn’t make eye contact, and it was totally because of the pollen in the air that was triggering my allergies making my eyes water. King must have had the exact same allergies, which was the reason why he was sniffling. “Thanks,” I said again, not knowing what else I could say to him. He’d already given me so much. More than he could ever know.

  He defended me when no one else would.

  He protected me when I couldn’t protect myself.

  He became family when I didn’t have one.

  King shrugged and cleared his throat. “You would have done the same for me,” he said, casually.

  I smiled and finally met my friend’s watery gaze. “No. No, I fucking wouldn’t have.” We both burst out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

  It was totally our laughter that triggered the allergy induced tears to stream down our faces as we hugged it out again before I finally turned and got in the car without looking back. And it was totally the laughter again that was the reason why I had to pull over on the side of the road less than a block away to spend ten minutes wiping my stupid leaking face so I could see well enough to drive the rest of the way home.

  Fucking allergies.

  Fucking laughter.

  When I finally pulled back onto the road I glanced up into the rearview mirror and watched the house on stilts, the one King and I dreamed about owning as kids, the first real home I’d ever had, grow smaller and smaller behind me. I sniffled and wiped my nose with the back of my hand.

  I was still in my car, idling in the driveway at the house I now called home, when I opened the second envelope from King. I pulled out a picture frame. The actual frame wasn’t anything special, but what was inside of it WAS. It was the drawing King and I had drawn together in my notebook on the day we met on the playground as two kids who didn’t know shit about life except that it could be cold and cruel. I ran my fingertips over stick figure King and Preppy, then the Star Wars stilt home. I laughed at the blood spattered on the page from my broken nose and made a mental note that Tyler, the bully responsible for that bloody nose, was long overdue for a house egging. I read over our notes in misspelled block lettering. HOBBIES was in bold letters with King: art shit and Preppy: bitches written underneath. Next to HOBBIES was GOALS. Underneath we’d written: Own the town. Be our own bosses. Kill anyone who gets in our way.

  That day changed everything.

  It changed ME.

  King and I entered that playground as kids with no futures. We left with one we’d created.

  Scribbled on the bottom of the frame, in bold black marker, in King’s shitty handwriting, was a single sentence.

  We did it all, and more.

  “Yes, yes we motherfucking did,” I said out loud, blinking back fresh tears and smiling like a crazed idiot.

  Fucking best friends.

  THE MOTHERFUCKING END

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Dear Amazing Readers,

  Writing the King Series has been one wild and crazy ride. Thank you for going on it with me. Thanks for embracing the characters and their stories. King, Bear, Preppy, Ray, Thia, and Dre thank you for your love.

  When I released my first book, The Dark Light of Day, I never thought a single person would ever read a word I wrote. It was a dream of mine just to release a book and that was enough for me.

  But then there was you.

  Readers.

  MY readers.

  You demanded more of me. It took me a while but I gave you all I had and then some with King.

  I’ve grown a lot throughout these last NINE books and you’ve been right there with me every step of the way. You’ve supported me. You’ve laughed with me. You’ve cried with me.

  YOU have made my dreams come true.

  I’m crying now as I type this to you. This may be the end of the main King series, but I have some spin-off’s planned. I’ll never say that I’m absolutely not going to ever revisit these characters again, because that’s too final and I don’t know what stories they may try to tell me in the future.

  This is by NO MEANS the end of T.M. Frazier though. I PROMISE that if you continue to stick with me, I’ll continue to stick with you and pour everything I’ve got into my stories.

  Thank you for demanding more.

  Humbly Yours,

  T.M. Frazier

  PS-Come join my Facebook readers group, FRAZIERLAND. It’s the best group of readers EVER!

  OTHER BOOKS BY T.M. FRAZIER

  STANDALONE NOVELS

  THE DARK LIGT OF DAY-A King Series Prequel

  Jake & Abby’s Story

  ALL THE RAGE-A King Series Spinoff

  Rage & Nolan’s Story

  KING SERIES

  KING, Book 1

  TYRANT, Book 2

  King & Doe’s Story

  LAWLESS, Book 3

  SOULLESS Book 4

  Bear & Thia’s Story

  PREPPY,

  THE LIFE & DEATH OF SAMUEL CLEARWATER,

  PART ONE, Book 5

  PART TWO, Book 6

  PART THREE, Book 7

  Preppy & Dre’s Story

  COMING SOON-ISH

  THE LIST-A New Standalone

  UP IN SMOKE-Standalone-A King Series Spinoff

 

 

 
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