by Bijou Hunter
I nod silently, still uncertain how I need to handle Rod. Fast or slow, gun or knife. I know I’m overthinking the kill. That’s not how I usually do shit, but I’m afraid to be the asshole who fucks it up for everyone else.
Now in the backyard, I hear barking in the house as Vaughn arrives. The dogs settle down once his engine shuts off.
The world gets very quiet, making the singing crickets sound very fucking loud. After years of sneaking around my house, I finally put my stealth skills to real use by reaching the back porch without making a sound.
The screen door is unlocked. Their lack of fear makes sense. Who would fuck with this family? Dad and son are criminals. Mom and daughter are bitches. Even their tiny dog is mean.
I keep moving because hesitation isn’t an option. Vaughn is in the front room. I hear him making small talk. He sounds friendly, but I can tell he’s trying to figure out where everyone is in the house. Eagle Eye mentions Jera’s in her room. I hear Rod speak, so he’s with the men in the front. That just leaves Nora Leigh.
Stepping into the kitchen, I gain the attention of the tiny dog. If he’s here, his bitch owner must be close. Almost immediately, Nora Leigh appears from the laundry room. She sees me, drops her laundry, and yells for Eagle Eye.
Moving quickly, I pick up her stupid dog with my free hand and throw him at her. With her focus on catching the animal, she doesn’t think about running. I race toward the hallway to find Rod. A loud thud from the front tells me that Vaughn is on the move too.
Fleeing Vaughn, Rod faces me in the dark hallway. He doesn’t breathe. I don’t either. He hurt my woman, my family. I’ve come to destroy his. He hates me. I’m fucking sure I hate him more.
This moment seems to last forever but is really over in a second. He pulls a gun. I fire mine first. One bullet misses his head. I aim lower and fire square into his chest. Rod runs at me, taking the bullet as if he’s fucking Superman. Except I know he’s not. Adrenaline keeps him moving through the pain.
I fire again, making a second hole in his chest. Rod staggers but still lifts his gun to fire.
Now I rush him, without thinking. I grab his weapon just as he fires. The bullet barely misses me and ends up in the kitchen somewhere.
I shove him into the wall and fight for the weapon. Bloody and in pain, Rod doesn’t relent. How can he? His father is dead. His sister and mother are in danger. This is life and death.
For both of us.
My size dwarfs his during the quick battle for his gun. My bigger hands squeeze his smaller ones. I dominate him, hopefully making him feel as fragile as the women he hurts. As I shove his gun upward, Rod tugs at the trigger. He hopes to kill me, but the bullet enters under his chin instead.
Behind me, Jera screams. Her cry is quickly cut short by a muffled shot. She tumbles back into her room as her brother drops in front of me. Meanwhile, Vaughn glides downs the hallways. He takes aim at a fleeing Nora Leigh as she carries her dog out the backdoor. A shot later, and she topples forward onto the back porch while the dog scurries away.
In less than five minutes, a family is dead. The only survivor is the tiny dog taking a whiz on a tree.
“Wash up and get going,” Vaughn says in an icy calm voice.
Vaughn nods, takes my gun along with Rod’s, and tells me again to wash the asshole’s blood off my face. “Watch out for that damn dog on your way out.”
I do as I’m told. There’s no time to stand over Rod’s body and gloat. We need to move. Hitting everyone at the same time provides us with the element of surprise and keeps us safe. If one man hesitates, another might not make it home.
I step into the bathroom, see my reflection for only a second because I’m on autopilot. I’d been so worried about what to do when the time came, but I felt nothing either way. No fear or guilt. Instinct took over.
After I wash off my face, I toss my shirt in the fire building in the living room where Eagle Eye took his last breath. Based on the man’s face, he never saw his death coming. Lucky fucker.
I don’t waste time thinking about anything except getting out of the house and away from the scene. Vaughn rides away, likely taking a side road to avoid being seen by anyone on his way out.
My Harley is half a mile away, but a light jog gets me there quickly. I feel good by the time I’m on the road. The wind cools my skin. All I smell is the smoke from the fires in the distance.
The fire department works double time to put them out. The next day, the cops sift through the mess left behind. Bodies are discovered. The town falls into absolute shock at the carnage. This is a quiet place, locals say on the TV. Nothing bad happens here.
Ellsberg is full of news crews for the next week. The only ones who talk to them are club outsiders who don’t know shit.
Meanwhile, the local cops claim they have a suspect. Cy Mullen’s mugshot becomes a common sight on the TV.
People spot him in Tennessee, Florida, and even in Mexico. He’s a phantom, lingering out of reach.
The state cops are more suspicious of the club. They probably don’t buy the story from the local boys in blue. Then the state cops in Ohio use Cy Mullen as an excuse to raid the local Mullens’ homes. They don’t find the fugitive, of course. What they do discover is a shitload of meth, heroin, and even a few missing kids. It’s a fucking bonanza, and the Ellsberg part of the story becomes old news.
By the time the Ohio Mullens are booked, I’m packing a truck full of my meager belongings for the trip to Pema. Killing Rod was my last act as a member of the Ellsberg chapter. That glorious night was my way to say goodbye to the club I grew up in and would never ride with again.
OH, BY THE WAY, FROM THE FORMERLY UNWANTED
After a quickie marriage where Thisbe walks me down the aisle while I wear Lily’s old prom dress, Colt and I move into a one-bedroom apartment in Pema. Moving-in takes less than an hour since neither of us owns much. Cooper, though, warns us not to go on a buying spree.
“Better to wait until you find your long-term place before you pick out shit. You never know how furniture will fit in a new space.”
We take his advice and buy nothing. Instead, we borrow an old couch from Heidi’s basement and a small kitchen table from Tawny’s garage. Vidalia donates enough dishes and cutlery, and another club old lady donates a few pans.
We plan to get to know Pema before settling into a house. Ideally, we’ll live close to Gunnar and Vidalia. Nothing is currently for sale around their home. With a lot of older people in the area with no intention of selling, it might be a long time before we find something we want. Fortunately, Pema is small enough that we’ll be ten minutes from Colt’s cousins no matter where the house is located.
Our first night alone in our new place, we eat the dinner I cook. It’s only spaghetti, but Colt acts as if I’ve cooked a four-star meal. The man spoils me with his constant praise.
Admittedly, the first few months in Pema aren’t easy for us. Colt at least has work, and he does enjoy being in charge. As for me, I miss Ellsberg, his family, Rae, and Kori. When Colt isn’t nearby, I don’t know what to do with myself. Vidalia and I hang out a few times a week, and I help her with the kids so she can have a break, but visiting her more often feels as if I’m imposing.
Other times, I hang out with Tawny who does her best to entertain me too, but I feel out of place. The people here have their routines, and it’s difficult for me to drop into them.
When I’m alone too much, I think about stuff better left in the past. I’m tempted to check my mom’s Facebook. What are the Wilsons doing? I don’t dare indulge in my sick obsession. I have a good life now, but the temptation is there when I’m bored or lonely.
I also find myself wondering about Rod’s death. Colt went out that night. He came back in different clothes. I know what he did, what the club did. Sometimes, I think it’s my fault Colt had to kill a man. Did he kill Jera and Rod’s mom too? Do their deaths haunt him? I can’t ask because I’ve accepted that he can’t share club bus
iness. Those are the rules for other old ladies, and I can’t demand special privileges. So, I never ask, but I still wonder if I’m to blame despite knowing Rod was a monster.
Since loneliness brings out the worst in me, I end up texting people all day when Colt’s working and I can’t find anyone to visit.
Mostly, I bother MJ and Rae. The first one replies to my texts with random comments, out of focus photos, videos of Thisbe sleeping, and SpongeBob gifs.
The second one gently asks me to stop bothering her so much since she doesn’t like communicating on the phone. She’s busy keeping Jodi’s house clean. They work in the yard together. Rae’s days are full, and my messages take up too much time especially when I don’t really have anything to say.
Giving Rae a break, I instead call Kori each day to hear about school. She made a friend who also likes books. They play at recess. She brags about seeing Farah at school—which is exciting despite Farah driving her to and from school every day. Then on Fridays, Kori reads me a book she learned that week. We talk about her coming up to visit during school breaks and how we’ll be down for the weekend. Kori likes all of my plans, but she’s busy too. In the afternoons, she tries to get me off the phone quickly. She’d rather finish her homework right away and play outside with Rover or go swimming. Life is full of fun for the once miserable kid.
Often I feel like everyone is busy with their new lives while I’m clueless at mine.
“Maybe I should get a job,” I tell Colt one night during a slow part of “The Running Man.”
“But then you won’t be at my beck and call.”
I smirk at his comment before realizing he’s serious. “Well, then you need to need me more. I’m lonely, and Vidalia needs a break. The apartment can’t be cleaned more than it already is, and the only hobby I have is something I like to do with you.”
“Do you mean fucking?” he asks, nudging my leg.
“Would a part-time job really be so inconvenient?”
Colt rubs his short blond hair and sighs. “Yes, it really would. When I’m not working, I want to hang out with you. So I need you to be available. Otherwise, I’ll get lonely, and we both know I’m insufferable when sad,” he says, cuddling me closer. “I don’t want you to be lonely, though. So let’s hit up Ellsberg in a few days and see what Mom and Pop suggest.”
Colt’s answer reminds me that he’s homesick too. We spend half of our time back in Ellsberg, which is awkward since his old room no longer has a bed. We’re forced to bunk in Lily’s former bedroom.
“Ask Heidi for something to do,” Cooper suggests a few days later. “She’ll give you a flexible job, and it’ll be good for her to have another woman friend.”
“See?” Colt says, leaning over to kiss my cheek. “I told you Mom and Pop would figure it out.”
“That was all me, boy,” Pop mutters.
“But Mom was sitting next to you when you said it, so she gets credit too.”
His parents bask in the praise. As much as they miss us, I also sense they’re enjoying the increased privacy at the house.
“They lock the doors now,” MJ tells me one day. “But only when they’re naked.”
Since tucking tail and running back to Ellsberg isn’t an option, Colt and I decide to learn to love Pema.
Each night, we try another restaurant. We walk up and down different streets, investigating stores that sell what we don’t need. We make friends. We even make enemies.
“Our first nemesis,” I announce when Colt and I return from a diner we’re kicked out after the waitress decides I’m giving her attitude.
Pulling out his phone, Colt snickers. “I’m writing a negative online review.”
With enemies now chosen, Colt is reminded that he promised to train me to defend myself. We frequent the club’s small gym a few times a week. He only teaches me to punch, though. After I wail on a bag for twenty minutes, he gets so horny that we rush home. Luckily, our apartment is within walking distance.
During one of our trips to Ellsberg, Colt announces I’m pregnant. I’m not sure we should tell everyone too soon, just in case I have a miscarriage.
“No,” MJ says. “If something bad like that happens, you’ll need our support. Secrets are no good in this family. Lily’s still in the doghouse for keeping hers. No, you should just tell us everything. Even the sex stuff is okay.”
“Gross,” Colt mutters.
“Sex is natural,” she scolds her little brother. “Grow up. You’re about to be a father.”
“You’re making me nauseous.”
Sitting back, I’m amused by the siblings’ bickering. I never had that growing up, and I don’t yet feel comfortable enough to challenge Colt’s sisters. One day, though, I might give as good as I get.
Heidi certainly helps me toughen up. While she doesn’t train me in the gym—Colt refuses to share that duty—she teaches me how to trash talk. Tawny also proves to be a badass influence and teaches me how to give an intimidating evil eye to my enemies.
While I’ll never be as cool and intimidating as the Rogers sisters, I do show off my new tougher attitude when Colt and I drop by Belmont House for lunch during a visit to Ellsberg.
As usual, the waitress, Jill, flirts hardcore with him. Colt doesn’t know how to tell a woman to fuck off. He fears she’ll cry. That shit doesn’t bother me, though.
“I don’t know if you’re acting like a slut for a better tip,” I whisper to Jill when she leans forward to flash her cleavage at Colt. “Or if you’re pathologically unable to control your whore behavior. Either way, you need to step off unless you want me to step on your fucking face.”
Jill instantly turns into an offended Southern belle and gasps. “There’s no call for that language.”
“If you’re so offended by my language,” I say, raising my voice, “why don’t you tell the manager I want a waitress who won’t wag her tits at my husband? Can you do that, Jill?”
As she hurries away, I ignore the other customers and just smile at Colt. He lifts his hands and spreads them out as if to show me how big a fish he caught.
“What?” I ask.
“That’s the size of my dick right now.”
Giggling, I shrug. “I’ve been practicing that since the last time she hit on you. Heidi might have helped me with some of it.”
“Pregnant rage is fucking hot.”
“No one messes with my man,” I say and wink.
Colt looks pained and yanks at his jeans. “Let’s order to go so I can get you alone somewhere.”
We hurry back to his parents’ house, find it empty, and spend an hour in the bedroom rewarding me for my possessive display. The only reason we emerge is to feed his growling stomach. Plus, he insists our baby needs nourishment after our workout.
“I think it’s a girl,” he says, kissing my barely-there bump. “Two of my sisters had boys first. I don’t want to copy that shit, so here’s hoping we got a tough chick growing in here.”
“I want a boy too, though.”
“Are you trying to mess with my one gender plan?” Nodding, I rub his head where his short hair sticks up. Colt frowns immediately. “What if it doesn’t grow back right?” he asks, sounding like a little boy.
“Listen here,” I say, leaning forward until our noses are nearly touching. “You’re a vain motherfucker. That can’t be helped. Fortunately, you’re a gorgeous motherfucker no matter what your hair looks like.” Giving him a quick kiss, I rub his head. “Besides, it’s already growing in. Just be patient.”
Wrapping his arms around me, Colt nuzzles my chest, but he isn’t horny. He looks up at me with soft brown eyes and smiles.
“If we hadn’t met, I’d still be living here and resenting my pop for not giving up his job. I knew for years that he wasn’t old enough to retire, but I kept expecting shit to change because I was too fucking chickenshit to leave. Then you came along, and my balls grew three sizes. Everything I build in Pema is only because of you.”
Smiling wi
de enough to hurt my cheeks, I can’t imagine loving him more than I do at this moment. But then I thought that yesterday and the day before. Colt always surprises me. I guess I surprise him too.
I think back to the day we met. Not every moment was joyful. There were dark times, but they all led to this beautiful moment and the millions of others we’ll share.
With Colt Johansson, it’s always a good pain.
A FINAL WORD FROM THE VERY MUCH WANTED
Motherhood changes something in me that even Colt and his family couldn’t. My anger–always simmering in that imaginary jar—fizzles out when I hold my first child. She’s so perfect, innocent, blameless. Somehow, it finally clicks for me that it’s okay to hate my mother.
All these years, I fought the urge to blame her. For so long, I prayed she’d want me back, and I didn’t think that could happen if I resented her. So, I shoved my anger deep inside me where it festered. Hating myself was okay but never her.
Colt gave me permission to judge her, but my children opened my eyes in a new way. I saw the world from a mother’s eyes rather than a child’s. I’d assumed I wasn’t a good kid and that’s why my mother didn’t want me.
Now I’ve accepted the guilt rests with her. My babies cry like all babies do. They have bad days. They melt down. They’re children, and my job is to help them. Even when my kids are at their worst, I can’t imagine abandoning them. No good mother—not Farah, Rae, or Colt’s sisters—would do what she did. My mother was selfish, just like I would be if I hurt my children.
Seeing the world as a mother frees me of so much anger and resentment. I no longer have any urge to check on her or my siblings. I just don’t care anymore.
Motherhood helps me in another way. Caring for babies is a full-time job. They always need me. This constant demand of attention wears down a lot of people, but I love it. My biggest fear is being alone, which never happens as soon as my kids are born. The only time they aren’t nearby is during short periods when Colt and I go out for dates. I’m either with him or them. Their love keeps me busy in the best way, leaving me reborn.
