Riveted: Drawn Series Book 1

by M. A. Stone

  The trial was long and drawn out. Because my “alibi” and her sister denied seeing me earlier that night, I could not prove that I was not in my house, murdering my wife. They used the fact that she and I were separated for a time and that I had a history of being in trouble and being a bit hot headed. I could not account for my whereabouts. The cops had contaminated not only the scene but the evidence, well some of it, was” lost”. The cops therefore pinned the murder of my wife, my only love, on me.

  25 years. I was sentenced to 25 years. They, the jury, found me guilty. My children were given ten minutes to say goodbye to me. My sister, Almeida, she agreed to take custody of them. Beau barely looked at me and did not say a single word to me. Angel did not have any family. Thankfully, I was allowed to go to her funeral. I got to say goodbye to my sweet angel. Poor Bleu, she looked destroyed. She screamed when she hugged me and then I had to go. She even kicked the police officer. My heart, already ripped to shreds, nearly exploded at her reaction. Axel just clung to me, burying his face into my leg.

  “I will take care of them Aaron. I promise,” said my sister as she cupped my face and then hugged me tight. Her husband Tangler patted my shoulder, at a loss for words. The guards led me away and that was the last I saw of what was left of my family. Beau, again, refused to even look at me, his little face a mask of stone. I had lost everything. Absolutely everything.

  Chapter 1

  My head felt like someone had tried to split it open with a baseball bat. Slowly, and with great effort, I opened my eyes and winced a bit. I was lying on the floor. Lifting my head up, I was not alone. Lying next to me, her leg thrown over my hip was a skinny naked girl, a tattoo of a dragon snaking down her ribcage. Her hair was long and bottle blonde. What in the hell had I done this time? This whole situation was becoming a regular thing, but I really did not give a fuck. I sat up and looked around a bit for my jeans. Grabbing them and my black t shirt, I wrestled them on and stood up, my hand grabbing the chair next to me. After a few minutes, my vision cleared and walked barefoot to the sorry excuse for a kitchen in this place. My black Doc Martens were under the table. I sat in a wooden chair and pulled my boots on. There were two empty liquor bottles on the table. Therapy was courtesy of Jack Daniels and the blonde on the floor. Shaking my head, I grabbed my leather jacket and walked out, closing the door softly behind me.

  Driving in my truck, I needed to find a coffee place, I needed some caffeine. Spying a Starbucks, I pulled in, turned off the truck, and walked inside. I tried to pretend that I did not see the table of women by the door checking me out. I just was not in the mood. At all. My flirting button was broken, had been for over 15 year. All I was interested in was a quick fuck; I really could not offer anyone more than that. I ordered my coffee and leaned on the counter, waiting for my order. A tall woman with short black hair came over. I casually looked at her. She was tall, like I said, thin and she was wearing a short sundress. She was trying too hard to look young. I pegged her at about forty. I liked them younger and with some curves. Skinny chicks were good for a fast fuck, but nothing else.

  “Hey there. I like your tattoos,” she said and smiled. I smiled back.

  “Thanks,” I said, grabbing my coffee from the skinny guy behind the counter. He gave me a sympathetic smile and I nodded. The skinny chick just stood in my way. I looked her in the face, willing her to move out of the way. Yeah I know, I know, I am a dick.

  “Excuse me ma’am.” I said, looking at her. She smiled again.

  “I am sorry for being so forward, but you are the handsomest thing I have seen all day,” she said with a smile. Fuck.

  “Thank you for the compliment darlin. I am sure you are a wonderful person, but I have one hell of a hangover and I just want to drink my coffee and sleep this off before I go to work,” I said, looking into her eyes and giving her a small smile. I did not want to be a dick; I just wanted to be left alone.

  “Okay. I did not mean to bother you,” she said softly, stepping aside and walking back to her table. I walked out of there and got into my truck. I could feel her eyes boring into my back.

  After sleeping things off in the efficiency apartment I paid for weekly, I took a quick shower, shaved everything but my goatee and got dressed in jeans and a black t shirt. It seemed like that was my unofficial uniform lately. I grabbed my keys and left to go to work.

  I was working at a shop here in WillowVale, about two hours away from where my family lived. I could not leave the state as a condition of my parole, but I kept in touch weekly with my parole officer. The last thing I wanted to do was go back in jail. The shop was busy, and it kept my mind off the shit swirling around in my head. The alcohol and sex did that too. I was in a bad place, but honestly, I did not care. My kids were fine, those that were talking to me. What the fuck did anyone need me for?

  “Hey Aaron, what’s up man?” called out Ace, my boss. He was wiping his grease covered hands on a rag. I nodded. He was a short guy, long black hair, all braided down his back. Tattoos are everywhere on his tanned, leathery skin.

  “You look like shit man,” he said with a grin, showing his gold tooth. He was a Diablo Demon, like pretty much everyone who worked in the garage here. He was good people though.

  “That’s what happens when an old man parties too hard,” I replied. He laughed. He and I were the same age, 51. He was younger by six months and his stupid ass liked to rub it in.

  “Well take it easy man, I don’t want the old folks home hauling you away,” he replied.

  “Don’t worry. I may be old, but I can run circles around your ass,” I replied. He shook his head and went into the office to cash out the customer whose car he had worked on.

  The afternoon flew by and I sat on a chair out behind the shop and drank a soda. It was starting to get dark, and it was humid, but that was nothing new being as it was the end of June. I finished up the soda and chucked it in the recycling bin that Ace kept out back. Walking back into the garage, I stopped when my cell vibrated in my pocket. Looking down at the screen, I saw it was my daughter’s friend Chloe. I ignored it, could not really talk right now anyways, and I did not want a lecture about my disappearance from someone who was younger than I was. Plus, I stood the chance of Bleu being on the other end of that call. I did not need to listen to her shit right now.

  Same shit, different day. Woke up on the floor of some random girl’s apartment. Snuck out before she woke up. My son would call me a man whore, but then again that apple fell right next to the damn tree. I drove home, washed my face and lay down on the couch. My phone buzzed again. Chloe. What the hell? Could they not take a hint?! I did not want to be found. I did not want to sit there like some asshole and watch everyone be happy while my heart had been ripped to shreds, my life had been taken away from me and I had nothing. Some people would say I had my family, but they were better off without me. At least for now.

  After work, I went with Ace to some party across town that the Demons were throwing. The music throbbed against my body and I was surprised and relieved it was metal and not some pop music annoyance. There was a bar and the bartenders were smoking hot women wearing barely enough leather to cover themselves. I went and ordered a beer while Ace went over to a bunch of women, who by the looks on their faces were thrilled to see him. Swigging on my beer, I looked around. The band was pretty good and the small mosh pit out front was filled with people banging it out.

  “Hey there, nice ink,” said a girl to my left. She was short, curvy and had spiky blonde hair. Her black tank showed off her sleeves and she had a pierced lip. Her skin was sweaty from dancing and she smelled liked peaches.

  “Hey, “I replied. She smiled again and took a sip of her beer.

  “What are you doing here, standing here all alone?” she said. I smirked.

  “Waiting for you,” I said, hoping that did not sound lame. She smiled.

  “Well I am here now, want to get out of here?” she asked. I nearly choked on my beer. I set it down on a nearby tabl
e.

  “Hell yes,” I replied. She smiled and I followed her out of the bar, checking her ass out the whole damn time. I was looking forward to see where else she was tattooed.

  I woke up on the floor again, on my back this time. I was in my apartment for once. And my dick hurt, like someone had hit me with a sledgehammer. I looked down and saw there was an ice pack on it. What had that woman done to me? I remember taking her back to my place; she stripped me down and fucked the holy hell out of me. Numerous times. Then I remember the both of us leaving the apartment and going somewhere in her car. I sat up and winced at the pain. I was in my boxer briefs. I slid myself up and leaned my back up against the couch. My cell buzzed.

  “What?!” I asked, answering without checking the screen.

  “Well thanks for answering asshole!” said Chloe. I closed my eyes and groaned. Fuck.

  “Rough night?” she asked. She had no idea.

  “You could say that. I woke up on my floor with a hangover and an ice pack on my dick,” I replied. She laughed.

  “I guess you DID have a rough night. What did you do to your Johnson?” she asked.

  “I am afraid to look.” I said.

  “I will look for you,” she said.

  “You are two hours away,” I replied.

  “That’s what you think douche bag,” she replied and hung up.

  I sat there and prayed that I did not have some infection from that girl. I mean, I always used condoms, but with the holes in my memory of last night, I was not sure I had been smart. Also, I had a cock piercing and you never know. I had gotten that bad boy right before the whole jail thing happened. It was my wife’s idea. I felt sick thinking about Angel. She would kill me if she was alive.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “It’s open, “I called out. Chloe walked in. Goddamn she was hot. She was wearing black yoga pants, a purple tank top and purple Converse. Her blonde hair was in some sort of messy bun.

  “Well mister, let’s see what you did to yourself,” she said, kneeling next to me. I shook my head. She was eyeing my tattoos and then her gaze went to my muscled stomach and nice chest. I am not conceited, but I know I look good naked. She noticed me noticing her stare and she blushed a bit.

  “Relax Aaron. I am not going to hurt you,” she said softly.

  “I don’t want you looking down there,” I said. She giggled.

  “Ahh, I get it. You don’t want me to see your dick right?”

  “That’s it,” I replied, closing my eyes a bit.

  “Well I have an idea,” she said. She grabbed the edge of her tank top, lifted it up and exposed the most perfect set of tits I had ever seen. They were a not too big and both of her nipples were pierced with a barbell. Her nipples were rosy pink. I tried to keep my hands to myself. She pulled her tank top down again and smiled.

  “There. Now we are even,” she said.

  “That was one hell of an ice breaker woman, “I said with a smile.

  “Anytime! Besides, diphthong, I am a piercer. I see dicks all day,” she said with a grin.

  “Sweetheart, you may look at dicks all day, but this bad boy right here, he is one of a kind,” I replied with a big smirk. She shook her head.

  “I am sure he is asshole, but I am still going to have to look. So stop being a wuss and let me look and see what you did to yourself,” she remarked.

  “Maybe it’s just infected,” I reasoned. She raised an eyebrow.

  “That’s one hell of a quick infection. And again, I am a trained professional, so sack up and let me see it,” she retorted. I groaned and nodded.

  She reached over and removed the ice pack. Setting it down next to me, she looked at me as she grabbed the waistband of my boxers. I nodded. She peeked inside and smiled like a little girl on Christmas morning.

  “What is it?” She looked up and smiled again.

  “Nice,” she said.

  “Thank you. But what did I do to my junk?”

  “You got a Jacob’s ladder Aaron,” she replied.

  “You mean I pierced the underside of my dick??!!” I asked. She nodded.

  “From the head all the way down to your balls,” she replied.

  “Why in the world would I do something like that?” I asked. She laughed.