Let Myself Believe

*Author’s Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

**Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check; you have been forewarned. Expect to find mistakes. If that bothers you, kindly stop reading now.

*.**.*

It was a pattern Andrew Carter knew all too well. He had something he valued, something that was his. And William took it away from him. If his older brother couldn’t take it away, then William would break it.

And the rest of the family would take William’s side. After all, William was the golden child, the fair haired son that could do no wrong.

“Quit!” Candy Durmonte giggled, playfully slapping William on his arm.

“What?” William smirked. “That’s what it is, right? Sharp Knife College, right?”

“Andy, tell him he’s wrong,” Candy protested, still giggling.

“Uh huh,” Andrew said, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “Candy, he knows it’s Whittle College. He’s just being an ass hole.”

“Andrew!” Big Bill Carter snapped, graying eyebrows knotted together in anger. “Do not call your brother…”

“Okay, Dad, whatever, Dad,” Andrew snapped.

“Oh no sir, do not ‘whatever’ me, young man,” Big Bill barked out.

“Whatever, bye,” Andrew said, turning and walking to the door of the Carter home.

“Andrew Michael Carter, get back here,” Big Bill barked out, furious with his middle child.

“Candy, you coming?” Andrew sighed.

That long hesitation, the look Candy gave to William was all the answer Andrew needed. With a final shake of his head, Andrew left the living room. He did not bother going up to his room to retrieve the suitcase. There was nothing of value to him in the small case.

Walking in and catching his girlfriend of two years in a passionate embrace with his older brother had been a painful shock. Quietly, he’d turned and left the library before either Candy or William had seen him. Natalie Carter, their sister and the baby of the family had seen Andrew, and just like everyone else, had taken William’s side, smirking at Andrew’s consternation and pain.

Andrew did not hear Natalie inform Candy, quite gleefully, that Andrew had seen her and William’s passionate embrace of moments earlier. Andrew did not hear Big Bill’s declaration that Andrew just needed to get over it; Candy was free to choose whom she wanted, and obviously, Candy had chosen the better man.

Andrew would have smiled at his mother’s sneering declaration of “The better man? A better man wouldn’t try to seduce the girlfriend of his brother, would he?”

Of course, the smile would have left Andrew’s face when William laughed his mocking laugh and said, “Try? There was no ‘try’ to it. I said let’s fuck and this little slut said ‘okay.'”

Andrew would have found little pleasure in Candy’s shocked gasp or pained sobbing. He also would have felt little compulsion to soothe, comfort his former girlfriend.

On the nearly fourteen hours from DeGarde, Louisiana to Broken Field, Kansas, Andrew had a lot of time to think. He and Candy had been talking marriage. They’d been talking about their future plans and goals and aspirations. Candy had graduated the previous semester with a Bachelor’s in Business Administration. Andrew was very nearly finished with his Master’s in Electrical Engineering. Of course, he would be assuming a position with Triangle Carter Incorporated and had planned to assist Candy in finding gainful employment with one of the oil companies or other industries in and around St. Elizabeth’s Parish.

There was just the one obstacle to their future happiness; Candace Ann Durmonte insisted on meeting Andrew’s family. Andrew had begged with Candy; please elope with him to Las Vegas, please run off to Mexico for a wedding south of the border. Anything but meeting his family first.

“Know what? A broken engagement is a shit load cheaper than a divorce,” Andrew decided by the time he pulled up to his apartment in Broken Field, Kansas.

He did not hear from Candy. After two weeks, Andrew boxed up the few items she’d left in his apartment and brought them to her parents’ home in April Springs, Kansas. When her father demanded to know where Candy was, Andrew gave the man William’s cell phone number.

“Thanks a fucking lot, whiney ass faggot,” William snapped at Andrew. “Had some ass hole calling, looking for his slut daughter.”

Andrew disconnected the call and quickly blocked William’s number. After a moment’s hesitation, he blocked Big Bill’s number, Natalie’s number, and their mother’s number. A phone store in the local Save Well discount store sold him a new cell phone and cell phone number.

“Dude, where’s Candy?” Freddie Scott asked, spotting Andrew at the local Brick’s Pizzeria, enjoying a medium Supreme. “And uh, hey, tried calling you last night; Whittle tore up the Pioneers, man.”

“Yeah, dude,” Ryan Smith asked, attempting to grab a slice of Andrew’s pizza.

“Bitch, get your own,” Andrew said, slapping Ryan’s hand quite hard. “Sorry, dude, got a new phone number; guess I forgot give it out.”

“Dude! Joking here, all right?” Ryan complained, rubbing his injured hand.

“Seriously, where’s Candy?” Freddie asked. “Cindy’s been trying to get her; she ain’t answering none of Cindy’s calls.”

“Don’t know,” Andrew shrugged. “Went to visit my parents. Candy met my brother, decided she’d trade up and that’s the last I seen of her.”

“Dude! No shit?” Ryan asked, mouth open in shock. “Dude, that’s seriously fucked up.”

“Cindy, think you need to get on over here,” Freddie said into his cell phone.

So Andrew told Freddie and Ryan and Freddie’s and Ryan’s wives the whole sordid tale; from birth, what William wanted, William got. If there was anything left afterward? Then Andrew got the crumbs. And that ended the moment Natalie was born. Now, William got the lion’s share, then Natalie was next in line. If there was anything left, then Andrew could have that.

“My science fair project? I mean, I’d created a vortex, a controlled tornado, you know, using dry ice,” Andrew said, clenching his jaw tightly. “Guaranteed A, right? William breaks it all the fuck up the night before.”

“And that’s who that bitch Candy left you for?” Freddie’s wife Cindy asked.

“Better off without her,” Dianne agreed. “Ryan, I said dibs on the last piece, damn it. Give it here.”

“What? You still eating that last piece,” Ryan complained but did relinquish the last slice of pizza to his wife.

“And of course, my mom and dad? ‘Oh, William didn’t mean it. He just wanted to see how it worked. Tell him you’re sorry William,'” Andrew continued. “So, I catch Candy with William, I’m sure my dad said, ‘what? She’s supposed settle for Andrew? When she can have William?'”

Andrew had no way of knowing it, but his statement was fairly accurate to what Big Bill Carter had said. Cindy, Dianne, Ryan and Freddie shook their heads in disgust.

“Well, we need to do something to get you out of this funk,” Ryan declared.

“Yeah, man, sitting around? Dwelling on the problem? That’s not the solution, Dude,” Freddie agreed.

“But I’m not,” Andrew said.

“No, no, just sitting around feeling sorry for yourself over what that bitch did to you?” Ryan said.

“But I’m not,” Andrew protested.

“Girls, we need to take Andrew to um, to, um, where, Ryan?” Freddie asked.

“Benhurst!” Ryan announced.

“Benhurst? Colorado?” Freddie verified. “Hell yeah!”

“Count me out; Jake’s got the Hollister case coming up,” Dianne said.

“And I’m scheduled all week at Stanfield’s,” Cindy stated. “Especially if you’re going to be visiting any of them pot shops they got there.”

“Guys’ weekend,” Freddie and Ryan announced and gave each other high fives.

Andrew found himself being coerced and bullied into a ‘Guys Weekend’ he had not wanted, nor needed. Yes, the break-up with Candy did hurt, but he had simply put it behind him. The break with his family would be a little, a lot harder; after years of studies, Andrew realized he simply could not go to work for Big Bill and William in the family business. He simply could not, and would not work under either one of the Carter men.

He had chosen Electrical Engineering specifically because Triangle Carter Incorporated provided the electrical services for offshore oil rigs. They also provided communications and computer services; Minnie had suggested that William go into engineering as a way to keep them current, keep TC ahead of the others vying to provide the same services. Big Bill had immediately shot Minnie’s idea down; William was needed in the office. So Andrew, who had always maintained better grades than William, opted to go to Whittle College.

Triangle Carter Incorporated had actually been Minnie Carter’s brainchild. Big Bill had come in from a fourteen day stint on an offshore oil rig and had told Minnie about a portable telephone that one of the electricians had brought with him. Big Bill had laughed at the device, had laughed at the foolish electrician for wasting all that money on such a cumbersome device.

Minnie however saw that there was a need for such communications and saw that a company that could provide reliable, affordable communications in such locations would flourish. Despite his misgivings, Big Bill agreed to give it a go.

At the time, Triangle Carter Incorporated was named TC after Minnie Carter, Bill Carter, and the mountain of debt the Carters were under. When William joined their family, he became the third leg of TC. Then Andrew came along; Big Bill and Minnie did toy with the idea of becoming Trapezoid Carter; Minnie said she’d drop out and be Stay At Home Carter. Natalie’s arrival restored the idea of Three Carters; William, Andrew and Natalie, with Big Bill driving the triangle around.

While Freddie and Ryan schemed and planned their extended weekend, Andrew completed his requirements for his Master’s. He then emptied out his apartment and put everything into unit 223A of Eazy Storage Center on Henderson Plains Road. The apartment manager did a walk through and grudgingly agreed that Andrew would be getting a refund of his security deposit.

“All right my man!” Ryan screamed as they got into Freddie’s Mercedes-Benz. “Raquel Falls, here we come!”

“Raquel Falls?” Andrew asked from the rear seat. “Thought we was going…”

“The Ski Lift Motel on two ten,” Freddie affirmed. “Don’t worry, we got three rooms, pussy. Like I told Cindy, ain’t no way I’m sharing a bed with either one of you homos.”

“And I used some of Dianne’s miles,” Ryan agreed. “I mean, no offense, dude, but Jesus! You ever smell a bathroom after you drop one?”

“Aw, fuck you,” Freddie laughed. “Like yours smell like flowers? But hey, anyway, this? This is all about getting our man Andrew Lonely Dick Carter laid, right?”

“Right!” Ryan screamed.

“Guys, shit, it’s not like I need your help getting laid,” Andrew protested again.

Andrew had not been blessed with Big Bill’s bruising physique or Big Bill’s handsome face or thick, wavy blond hair and deep brown eyes. Andrew had taken after Minerva Minnie Carter. He’d inherited her tightly coiled red hair, fair complexion and glittering green eyes. He’d also inherited her slight build. Thankfully, he had also inherited her business acumen and her strategic skills.

Most people considered Andrew more than just a little cute. Until they met William. Than Andrew simply ceased to exist.

The trio checked in; Andrew taking the second floor room while Ryan and Freddie took two ground floor rooms with an adjoining door between the rooms. Andrew was grateful he would not be saddled with an adjoining suite with either Freddie or Ryan. He could just see one or the other or both of them barging into the room as he tried to sleep. Or, on the off-chance that he might actually bed a woman over the four day weekend they’d scheduled, having Ryan or Freddie barging into his room while he entertained a woman.

“Okay, gentlemen, synchronize watches,” Freddie said, adopting a serious tone. “Our first stop is Club Landslide! On forty nine.”

“Club Landslide?” Andrew asked.

“An avalanche of some of the finest titties Colorado has to offer,” Freddie confirmed.

“Aw, God, really? A titty bar?” Andrew complained.

“Leaving here at oh twenty one hundred hours, gentlemen,” Freddie continued.

“It’s twenty one hundred hours, dumb ass, not oh twenty one hundred hours,” Andrew sighed. “Fine, let me grab a quick shower and I’ll meet you at the car.”

“No pulling your pud in the shower, Colonel Carter,” Ryan chortled. “Let’s leave that for the ladies.”

There were several attractive young women prancing around Club Landslide! Most were fresh faced girls that smiled and cooed and expressed sympathy when Freddie and Ryan explained that they were there to cheer a disconsolate Andrew over the break-up of a long term relationship.

But it was Freddie and Ryan that drank quite a few shots of a drink that Club Landslide’s bartender called a ‘Snow-blind.’ It was Freddie that went into the D5 Room with Dallas, a full figured red head with large freckled breasts and juicy looking rear end.

“Gentlemen, I declare this operation a success,” Freddie said, staggering slightly as he returned from the bathroom. “Roger?”

“Roger!” Ryan agreed enthusiastically.

“Gentlemen, the next target of Operation Happy Dick is Cunning Stunts, on Gold Rush,” Freddie declared, pointing them toward the door of Club Landslide!

“Cunning, what the hell kind of name is that?” Andrew asked as his hearing returned to normal.

“What’s the difference between Harry Houdini and Halle Berry?” Ryan giggled.

“Oh! Oh, I see. Don’t, God, just don’t,” Andrew begged as they got into Freddie’s Mercedes-Benz.

“One is a cunning stunt, the other is a stunning cunt,” Ryan giggled drunkenly.

“I said don’t,” Andrew complained.

Cunning Stunt also had a plethora of attractive women that were willing to remove their clothing for money. They were also willing to do slightly more for a few dollars more. For quite a few dollars more, they were willing to go into the Magic Room for some one on one time with a customer.

Ryan and Freddie both went into the Magic Room; Ryan with Ebony, an attractive African-American girl with pneumatic breasts and Freddie with another large breasted red head that said her name was Ariel.

“Gentlemen, the target has been reached and conquered, roger?” Freddie drunkenly slurred.

“Roger,” Ryan agreed. “God damn, black girls? They got them some of the tightest pussies, I swear!”

“Our next target…” Freddie stated.

“Is bed; give me the keys,” Andrew demanded. “You have had way too much to drink, dude.”

“Naw, fuck that,” Freddie said. “Our next target is Rocky Mountain Way, on Aspen Drive.”

“You two can go get yourselves killed; I’m ubering,” Andrew declared.

“Gentlemen, I think the problem is, Colonel Andrew Carter is a gigantic pussy,” Freddie announced. “He must be brought up on charges of desertion; a court-martial able offense.”

“Agreed, general,” Ryan drunkenly said.

“Whatever,” Andrew said, leaving the loud nightclub.

Freddie and Ryan both looked rough the next morning. But over breakfast, both described the girls of Rocky Mountain Way in graphic detail. Neither man seemed to notice that Andrew was not paying them any attention.

“Uh, either one of you uh, maybe happen stop and ask yourselves what Cindy or Dianne would think if they caught your asses?” Andrew asked, adding Tabasco to his scrambled eggs.

“Dude, how you can eat that?” Ryan asked, looking a little green.

“Shit, Cindy ain’t going find out,” Freddie said.

“But after reviewing your conduct unbecoming an officer,” Freddie continued. “Colonel Smith and I? We’ve decided to give you one more chance to redeem yourself. So, tonight, at oh twenty one hundred hours, we shall begin our operation at Benhurst’s finest steak restaurant, Daughters. From there, we will proceed to Golden Nuggets on Berkshire Way. Synchronize watches, gentlemen.”

“Cindy and Dianne? They’re okay with you spending this kind of money?” Andrew asked, paying the waitress for his breakfast.

“Is that what happened?” Freddie sneered. “Huh? Candy found out you don’t wear the pants? You wear the pantyhose?”

“Really, pussy,” Ryan jeered. “I told Dianne we might get a little wild. Think she had anything to say about it?”

“And, dude, Ariel, or, no, no, it was Heather? Said we got try that pot shop right next door,” Freddie said.

“Nope; pot just gives me a bitch of a headache,” Andrew declined.

“Pussy,” both Freddie and Ryan sneered.

After lunch, Andrew went for a walk. This weekend was depressing when he stopped to think about it. Supposedly they were here to cheer him up, but there was nothing cheerful about watching his two acquaintances frivolously spending money on anonymous sex with dancers. He wouldn’t be the one to tell either Cindy or Dianne what their husbands had been up to during their visit to the beautiful little town, but he would not lie for either Freddie or Ryan either.

Daughters Steaks had an attractive young woman dressed in bustier and thong panties greet them as they entered. Their waitress also wore bustier and thong panties and smiled graciously as she took their order, smiled graciously as she served their meal, smiled graciously as she rebuffed Freddie’s demand for her phone number. The smile faltered when Ryan insulted her 32B breasts as he gave her a twenty dollar tip.

“Here; twenty bucks,” Ryan said, a little too loudly. “Who knows? Few more tips like that, maybe you can get yourself some real titties.”

“Ma’am, I am so sorry,” Andrew said, also giving her a twenty dollar tip. “The food was excellent and your service was impeccable.”

“Thank you, come again,” the girl said before retreating quickly.

Golden Nugget was a repeat of Club Landslide! And Cunning Stunts. Loud music, flashing lights, pretty girls willing to take off their clothes for money. Prospector’s Mine also had loud music, flashing lights and pretty girls. Again, Ryan found an African-American girl to his liking and paid for a private dance in the Champagne Room.

“Hey!” Ryan screamed drunkenly at Andrew. “What’s your problem, huh? Come on, dude, cheer up, huh?”

“Dude, this is stupid,” Andrew declared, getting to his feet. “You two can do whatever you want; I’m going back to the motel.”

“You can’t do that!” Freddie protested.

“Watch,” Andrew said, already tapping out the Uber app on his phone.

Freddie and Ryan did not come to the diner for breakfast. While enjoying his breakfast in silence, Andrew idly looked at the local Benhurst Bugler that the motel provided for their guests. An ad promised that the Centennial Walk had good music and good food. Friday and Saturday nights, a live band provided the music for dancing. Nestled on the shore of Merilee Lake, Boardwalker’s promised fresh trout and home fries.

“See?” Andrew said, looking at the photograph of several young couples dancing. “This. This is where we should have gone. Not them places with all them skanks running around.”

The Nasty Pig Barbecue restaurant served the three men a good hearty barbecue sandwich and some hearty potato salad; Ryan tried the fried pickles. The waitress wore a snug, short tee shirt that exposed much of her belly and a pair of crisp white bikini brief panties. She smiled politely as she took their order and smiled politely when Freddie asked her what time she got off.

“Right about four thirty; my girlfriend usually picks me up on her Harley,” the girl said.

“Gentlemen, we need to coordinate our plan of attack,” Freddie intoned.

“Y’all can coordinate, plan, do whatever y’all want,” Andrew interrupted Freddie’s monologue. “There’s live music and dancing over at Centennial Walk tonight. That’s where I’ll be.”

“Gentlemen, Lieutenant Carter has a most excellent idea,” Freddie agreed. “Hell, we have been spending way too much on the pussy at those titty bars, am I right? Okay, synchronize watches.”

“Centennial Walk’s got some good burgers, or Boardwalker’s got trout,” Andrew interrupted Freddie’s soliloquy. “We get there, what, about eight? Grab a bite, do some dancing. Who knows?”

“Yeah; I’m with Lieutenant Pussy,” Ryan said. “Shit, any idea how much money we spent already?”

“Synchronize watches. We will meet at the car at oh nineteen thirty,” Freddie declared.

“That’s seven thirty for those of you that don’t speak shithead,” Andrew agreed.

“Lieutenant Carter, you’ve already been busted down from the rank of Colonel to Lieutenant,” Freddie warned. “Want to make it private? Insubordination of a superior officer?”

“What the fuck ever,” Andrew shook his head, finding the whole thing to be quite silly.

“That a pot shop right there?” Ryan asked, looking across the street.

“Good eye, Colonel Smith,” Freddie praised. “Put yourself in for a medal, um, for actions most becoming of an officer, okay?”

“Roger that,” Ryan agreed.

“See y’all at seven thirty,” Andrew said.

“Oh nineteen hundred thirty,” Freddie said. “And Lieutenant Carter, I expect to see a shine on them boots, hear?”

Andrew looked down at his battered cowboy boots and shook his head. He walked back to the motel, mentally assessing what clothes to wear to Centennial Walk or Boardwalker’s tonight. He’d packed the pretty green, yellow and white cowboy shirt Candy had bought for him; she said it showed off his beautiful green eyes perfectly.

That evening, Freddie objected strenuously, but Andrew refused to get in the car if Freddie was driving. Both Freddie and Ryan had availed themselves of quite an assortment of the wares the pot shop supplied and both were quite stoned when Andrew had pounded on Freddie’s door at nineteen fifty, or seven fifty that evening.

“Even bought a couple marijuana lollipops,” Ryan giggled happily. “Dianne might even give up the booty I get her fucked up enough.”

“Lovely,” Andrew said.

“Yeah? Like Candy ever let you do her ass?” Ryan challenged.

“Couple times,” Andrew agreed.

“No fucking way!” Freddie hooted. “Miss Tight Ass Candy? Let you get some shit on your dick? No fucking way!”

The trio finally decided to go to Centennial Walk; Andrew was the only one that wanted trout for supper. Thundering into the dimly lighted nightclub, Freddie and Ryan commandeered a table near the dance floor then harassed the poor waitress for not serving anything stronger than draft beer.

“Gentlemen, coordinates of eleven o’clock my position,” Ryan enthused. “That’s right, not one but two chocolate bunnies for Colonel Smith to corral.”

“Most excellent, Colonel Smith,” Freddie concurred. “But uh, how’s a white boy from Alabama get such a thing for ghetto booty?”

“Had me a black girlfriend when I was in the eighth grade,” Ryan laughed. “Man that bitch could kiss, hear?”

“Dianne know about this?” Andrew asked, mildly curious.

“And she better not find out,” Ryan threatened Andrew. “She hates black people. Can’t tell you all the times heard her say the ‘N’ word.”

“Simmer down,” Andrew said. “What I’m going do? Say, ‘oh, hey, by the way, Dianne, you know Ryan’s all freak over the chocolate?'”

The burgers were excellent and the sweet potato fries were the right combination of sweet and salty. As they ate, the band set up then launched into their set. The four musicians were quite good and the female keyboard player and the male bass player traded lead vocal duties.

“Gentlemen, engaging target,” Ryan said and got to his feet.

Ryan approached the table of girls and asked one of the African-American girls to dance. She smiled and got to her feet.

“Major Carter, this was indeed a most excellent idea you had,” Freddie smiled and got to his feet.

“Oh, I’ve been promoted to Major now?” Andrew said and shook his head.

Freddie approached another table of women and asked a striking red head to dance. The tall slender woman smiled and nodded her head.

“Dude, they’re fucking cousins, believe this shit?” Ryan enthused to Andrew, guzzling the last of his beer before approaching the second African-American girl.

After forty minutes, Freddie and his red head were frantically grinding against one another while dancing. Ryan was alternating between one and the other cousin and the three were grinding and humping one another as they danced.

“Hey!” a cute blonde girl demanded of Andrew.

Andrew looked up from his second beer. The girl was about five feet tall, with a short hairstyle that barely grazed her jawline. Her clothing was just a pair of brightly colored bikini bottoms and a far too short tee shirt. On her feet, she wore tattered flip flops.

The most striking thing about the girl was her numerous facial piercings. In the dim light of the bar, Andrew could also see a long green tattoo adorning her lower belly and disappearing underneath the short tee shirt.

“Hey,” the girl repeated and even jabbed Andrew’s chest with a stubby finger. “What’s matter? You too drunk dance?”

“Nope, I’m too sober to dance,” Andrew smiled at the young girl.

Her blue eyes opened wide and she flashed him a brilliant smile. Then she jabbed his chest again with her blunt finger.

“Then you need hurry up and drink; you dancing with me,” she ordered.

“Okay,” Andrew said and got to his feet.

The band launched into ‘Kiss Them For Me’ by Siouxsie & The Banshees. The girl let out an excited squeal and began to dance.

Andrew found that his participation wasn’t needed. He stood still while his unknown partner simply flung her arms up and rubbed her tee shirt clad breasts against him, then turned and rubbed her sweetly rounded bikini clad buttocks against him. All Andrew did was shuffle his feet and bob his head along with the tempo.

“You a great dancer,” the girl screamed over the music.

“Honey, I’m not doing anything but standing here,” Andrew laughed.

‘Kiss Them For Me’ was followed by a slow tune. The girl plastered herself against Andrew and began to suck on his nipple through his shirt. Andrew wrapped his arms around the young girl and swayed in time to the music. He could tell that she had nothing on underneath the thin tee shirt. He wondered where she might have lost her bikini top.

“See? You a great dancer,” the girl enthused and wrapped her slim arms around Andrew’s neck.

He could feel a post on her tongue when she thrust her tongue into his mouth. He could also feel her lower lip piercing against his lip as they kissed.

“Get me a beer,” she ordered. “Ass hole bartender knows I’m only nineteen so won’t give me one.”

Andrew did get a draft beer for his unnamed companion. She sprinted to the bathroom, leaving Andrew standing, holding a full draft.

“Thanks; what’s your name?” the girl said, returning a moment later.

“Andrew,” Andrew said and watched with amusement as the girl drank the entire beer in one long swallow.

“Thanks; man! Dancing? That’s hot work, huh?” the girl enthused, then pulled Andrew onto the dance floor again.

Again Andrew stood while his companion rubbed herself against him. At one point, she swiveled herself to stand behind him. Suddenly, her slim arms came around his waist and travelled from belt buckle to crotch. She grasped his semi-erect cock in her small hands.

“Wow, Andy, that’s a nice one,” the girl whooped as she rotated around to face him again.

“Uh, thanks,” Andrew said. “But, it’s Andrew, all right? Andy? That’s a little boy’s name, okay?”

“And you sure ain’t no little boy,” the girl giggled, glancing at his crotch.

The band announced that they were going on a ten minute break. The girl whined her disappointment, then demanded another beer. Andrew looked around and could not see Freddie or Ryan. Whit a shrug, he fought his way up to the bar and ordered two drafts.

“Thanks; aw, you so sweet! You got me two of them?” the girl asked, grabbing one beer from him.

“Uh, no ma’am, the other one’s for me,” Andrew said.

“Oh, oh yeah,” the girl giggled and again drank her beer in one long swallow.

“Uh, by the way, what’s your name?” Andrew asked as the girl swiveled and rocked her hips to some unheard melody.

“Hmm? Oh! I didn’t tell you?” the girl gasped, then giggled. “I’m Victoria. No, no, not Vickie, God, hate that. I’m Victoria Hansen.”

“And I’m Andrew Carter,” Andrew said, scanning the room for his companions.

“Come on. Want go for a walk?” Victoria asked, and dragged Andrew from Centennial Walk into the muggy evening.

Stepping out into the dank night, Andrew scanned the parking lot for Freddie’s Mercedes-Benz. He did not see the sleek black automobile. With a sigh, he determined he would have to Uber to the motel. Victoria grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the lake.

“I love the lake; I was a pretty good swimmer when I was in school,” Victoria informed him as they walked along the lake’s edge.

“Oh yeah?” Andrew asked.

“Uh huh,” Victoria said, clutching Andrew’s hand tightly.

She stopped suddenly, whirled around to face him and again wound her arms around his neck. She stood on tip toes and pressed her lips to his. As they kissed, she again thrust her tongue into Andrew’s mouth.

“So, I uh, what’s with all the piercings?” Andrew asked when Victoria released him.

“God, kind of stupid, really,” Victoria shrugged, grabbing Andrew’s hand.

With her free hand, Victoria pointed to an ugly scar along her forearm. Andrew looked at the pink puckered flesh in the moonlight.

“Was real into cutting,” Victoria said. “I mean, God, the rush, you know? But anyway, got too deep with this one. Blood all over the place; it wouldn’t stop bleeding, you know? And went and showed my mom and my stupid fucked up step dad and she’s screaming why was I trying to kill myself and I’m like I’m not, shit, okay?”

Andrew wondered what this had to do with the fix or seven rings that Victoria had along her right eyebrow or the six or seven earrings she sported along her left ear. What did cutting and cutting herself too deep have to do with the ring adorning her right nostril, the ring through her bottom lip?

“Next thing I know, my mom and ass hole got me in Jordinaire’s psych Ward and I got to go to these stupid meeting, Self-Mutilation Anonymous or something like that,” Victoria said, skipping alongside Andrew.

“Okay?” Andrew asked after a long moment of silence.

“Hmm? Oh! Oh, anyway, that’s where I met Ned and he shows me all his scars on his arms but he don’t cut anymore and says he’s going help me,” Victoria admitted and ceased with her skipping.

“And?” Andrew coaxed.

“And tells me ain’t no one’s going believe it was rape, I mean, remember? I’m in the psych ward,” Victoria said and stopped walking.

She released Andrew’s hand and turned to look out at the black inkiness of the lake. After a long moment of silence, Andrew stepped behind Victoria and hugged her gently. She leaned back against his chest.

“Anyway, quit cutting myself,” Victoria whispered. “But now, when I you know want to cut myself? I get a piercing.”

She turned and smiled up at Andrew. She pointed to her modified eyebrow.

“Been, you know, wanting cut myself pretty bad,” Victoria confessed. “So, got these. You like them?”

Before Andrew could answer ‘no, he did not like the numerous piercings, Victoria kissed him again. Standing on tip toes, she plastered her body against his. With a smiled, then giggle, Victoria grabbed Andrew’s hand and pulled him toward a group of trailer homes across the street from the lake.

Inside of the trailer, Victoria pulled her tee shirt up and off. Her 29B breasts bobbled a moment. Andrew admired Victoria’s small breasts and light pink nipples. She had hoops in her nipples, and a gold chain dangled from the hoops.

The long thin green tattoo was a yellow iris or lily. The green stem tapered upward, branching off into three full leaves. Her left breast was completely covered by the yellow flower itself.

Victoria again pressed her body against Andrew and kissed him hotly. She then dropped her bikini bottom to the linoleum floor of the trailer, exposing her bald pubic mound. Turning, Victoria pulled Andrew down the hallway. Even in the dim light that filtered into the hallway from the living room, Andrew did admire Victoria’s sweetly rounded buttocks.

“I don’t do this with everybody,” Victoria declared, flinging open the door of a cluttered bedroom.

“You, uh, your mom and step-dad uh, they won’t mind?” Andrew asked as Victoria turned on a small bedside lamp.

“Huh? Oh no, no, Andrew, this is my place,” Victoria hastened to assure him. “Jesus! Right, like I’d ever bring, God, my mom would just shit, huh?”

Andrew used his toe to kick one, then the other boot off. He wiggled out of jeans and boxer briefs, then unsnapped his pretty shirt.

Victoria nodded her head in approval, then flopped onto her unmade bed. She lifted her legs in the air, then spread them wide.

“Hey, you ain’t one them guys don’t eat pussy, huh?” Victoria suddenly asked, lifting her head from the cluttered mound of pillows.

“No ma’am,” Andrew smiled. “Andrew Carter likes eating pussy just fine.”

“Yeah? Prove it,” Victoria smiled, using her left hand to pull her pussy open.

Andrew saw something shiny when Victoria pulled her pussy open. Scrambling onto the bed, Andrew saw that Victoria’s inner labia were pierced; three hoops dangled from each lip. Her prominent clitoris likewise sported a thick gold hoop.

Andrew Carter did like eating pussy. Julie, his girlfriend had told Andrew that she was going to be a virgin on her wedding night. But virgin or not, Julie intended to pleasure Andrew, as long as Andrew agreed to pleasure her.

Her instructions were simple; use his fingers and his tongue. When he managed to locate her clitoris, Julie instructed Andrew to ‘write his name’ on her love bump.

Somehow, William must have convinced Julie that they’d gotten married; she tearfully announced her pregnancy at a Carter Sunday dinner.

Andrew did not dwell on thoughts of Julie as he licked and sucked and fingered Victoria’s fragrant pussy to two orgasms. He didn’t think of Beth Richards, his date for the St. Thomas Aquinas Winter Formal. Beth spent the entire evening pumping Andrew for information about William.

“You know, it ain’t William spent two hundred bucks on your fat ass,” Andrew finally yelled, pulling his condom covered cock from Beth’s pussy.

“And William wouldn’t have to,” Beth smugly informed Andrew. “Now, be sure and tell him I’m a good fuck, okay?”

“Oh God yes, come on, fuck me,” Victoria ordered, pulling on Andrew’s hair.

Andrew slid himself into Victoria’s very snug pussy. He could feel her pussy rings as he pushed into her. She keened loudly and wrapped her short legs around his waist.

“Ow, shit!” Andrew cried out when Victoria bit his left nipple.

She dug her well-chewed fingernails into his back and bit down on his chest. Her stubby legs held him in place as she thrashed underneath him.

“God damn yes, aw God,” Victoria keened again and clamped both legs and arms tightly around Andrew.

“Fucking just ain’t fucking unless you draw blood,” she giggled and bit him on his bicep.

“Draw blood and I will take my belt to your cute little ass,” Andrew warned.

“Oh God, yes, God, Andrew, you my man,” Victoria screamed in orgasm.

When Andrew finished pumping his seed into her tight pussy, he rolled over and gasped for breath. Victoria kissed his gasping mouth, then bit down on his throat. She wiggled down and took his semi-erect cock into her mouth.

Andrew reached down and grabbed a handful of her short blonde hair. He pulled her mouth off of his cock.

“You bite that? I will smack you one, hear?” he warned.

She shot him a wide smile and bent to suck his cock again. She bobbed her head up and down, taking him all the way into her mouth.

“Not going bite your dick; it’s too cute,” she affirmed. “But I just love the taste of me and you together like this.”

She sucked his cock until he shot a thick torrent of sperm into her mouth.

“You like it with the post in?” Victoria asked, even sticking her tongue out to show him her tongue piercing. “That’s the first time I done that since I got it put in.”

“Yeah, it was pretty awesome like that,” Andrew agreed.

“You stay?” Victoria asked, already pulling the blankets up.

“Yeah, you want me to,” Andrew agreed.

She rolled over and turned off the bedside lamp. Then she rolled and put her small head on his chest. Her ragged fingernails traced up and down his abdomen and chest.

“I like the way you fuck,” she whispered.

“Like the way you do too,” Andrew agreed.

“Really? Last boyfriend said…well, never mind; he was a real ass hole,” Victoria said.

“If your last boyfriend said anything about how you fuck? Maybe he was the one didn’t know how to fuck,” Andrew suggested.

Andrew sensed someone was watching him. He opened his eyes and saw a miniature Victoria regarding him. He smiled and the girl smiled.

“Hi mither, what you doing?” the small girl asked.

“Nothing. What you doing?” Andrew asked, making sure the blanket was covering him.

“Nofin’: she said.

“What? Me too!” Andrew said and the girl giggled.

“Who you?” the girl asked.

“I’m Mr. Andrew. Who you?” Andrew asked, now trying to remember where his jeans and underwear may have wound up.

“Me? I’m Rianna. I live here. Do you live here now?” Rianna asked.

“Oh no ma’am,” Andrew smiled. “I’m just a friend of your mommy’s. She around?”

“Uh huh,” Rianna agreed, but made no move to leave the room.

“Rianna, I said see if Mr. Andrew wants coffee,” Victoria said from the doorway of the bedroom.

“He does,” Rianna announced.

“Did you ask him? Mr. Andrew, did she ask you if you wanted coffee?” Victoria said.

“No, she did not, but yes I do,” Andrew said, rolling over and seeing Victoria in the doorway.

She was again wearing her bikini bottom and short tee shirt. She shook her head, making her short hair bounce. She waggled a finger at Rianna.

“Young lady, you just fibbed,” Victoria announced.

“But he does want coffee,” Rianna protested.

“Uh huh, but you didn’t ask him,” Victoria stated.

Rianna followed her mother out of the bedroom. Andrew quickly dressed, then left the bedroom.

“What you take in it?” Victoria asked, pouring a mug of coffee into a chipped coffee mug.

“Cream, half and half if you got it,” Andrew said, taking a seat at the table.

Rianna looked up from her toast and gave Andrew a grape jelly smile. Andrew returned her smile and she giggled.

“I uh, I, coffee’s about all I got,” Victoria mumbled, putting the weak brew in front of Andrew.

“That’s fine,” Andrew lied. “Really not much of a breakfast man.”

“I uh, listen, I, I’m not you know, it’s not like I’m some kind of whore or nothing,” Victoria mumbled, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “But uh, you, you got a couple bucks?”

Andrew grimaced at the weak coffee. He had not cared for the motel coffee, but that coffee was far and away better than this weak swill. He gulped down the hot brew and put the mug onto the wobbly table.

“Let me see,” Andrew said and pulled his wallet out of his jeans.

He had two crisp one hundred dollar bills in his wallet, along with three twenties. Victoria did not look at him so he put the bills onto the table.

Andrew quickly arranged for an Uber to pick him up. The App said the driver was eight minutes away, dropping someone off at the local Chevrolet dealership.

“I uh, listen, I had fun,” Andrew said to Victoria’s back.

“Yeah, me too,” Victoria mumbled.

“I uh, see you around, okay?” Andrew said, shuffling to the door.

“I uh, yeah, yeah, when you going back, Kansas, right?” Victoria asked, swiveling her head in his direction.

“Check out’s at ten,” Andrew said.

“Huh? Oh, okay, I uh, see you,” Victoria said, turning her attention back to her cup of coffee.

“Bye, Rianna, bye, real nice meeting you,” Andrew said and opened the door of the trailer.

“By Mither Dwew,” Rianna called out.

Freddie’s Mercedes-Benz was not parked in the parking lot of the motel. Andrew assumed that Freddie and Ryan had gone to another pot shop to stock up on marijuana products before their return to Broken Field, Kansas. He went into the diner and flipped a coffee cup over. As bad as the motel coffee might be, it was much better than Victoria’s attempt at coffee.

After the breakfast, Andrew stepped outside. There still was no sign of Freddie’s car. Andrew walked up to his room, took a quick shower, pulled on his last set of clean clothes and packed his duffel bag. He made sure he had his phone charger and gave one last look around to make sure he’d left nothing behind.

“Hey, your buddies, huh?” the manager snarled when Andrew returned the key card to the counter.

“What about them?” Andrew asked.

“Some van comes up and next thing I know? They skipped out of here owing for the three days you guys been here,” the manager said.

“And? That’s on them,” Andrew said. “You got their credit cards, right?”

“Uh huh; Master Card Says it’s been cancelled,” the manager said.

“I’m paying for my room. My room. Not my room and their rooms,” Andrew stated firmly. “Need get a hole of them.”

After paying the charge and verifying that there were no extra charges applied, Andrew stepped outside. He fished his cell phone out and searched his contacts for Freddie’s phone number.

That call went directly to Freddie’s voice mail. Andrew then tried Ryan’s phone number. Again, the call went to Ryan’s voice mail. Gritting his teeth, Andrew tried Dianne’s phone number.

“What?” Dianne screamed.

“Jesus, what you screaming at me for?” Andrew yelled in reply. “Know where Ryan is?”

“What? What? You really asking me what I’m screaming at you for?” Dianne screamed. “I thought, I thought we was friends and you let my husband, you know what? I can see why Candy dumped your loser ass, fucker. And don’t be calling me no more, hear?”

Andrew swiped his thumb over the screen of his phone and looked up the nearest Greyhound station. He located the Greyhound station and saw that it was only nine blocks from the motel. With a heavy sigh, Andrew started to trudge the nine blocks to the bus terminal.

His cell phone jangled and Andrew pulled the noisy contraption from his jeans pocket. He did not recognize the phone number and almost sent it to voice mail. At the last second, he decided to answer the incoming call.

“This is Andrew,” he intoned, nodding as he now saw the familiar sign for the Greyhound bus terminal.

“That was, that’s way too much money,” a soft voice said.

“What?” Andrew asked.

“You gave me too much money,” Victoria said, voice small.

“I didn’t think so,” Andrew shrugged.

“I mean, shit, I told you, I ain’t no whore,” Victoria protested.

Andrew did some mental math in his head. It had been almost two hours since he’d left Victoria’s trailer. He wondered if it had taken her this long to finally get around to looking at the few dollars he’d left on her kitchen table.

“Hey, Victoria, you can use the money?” Andrew asked.

“Well, yeah, I mean, but still…” Victoria said.

“So use the money,” Andrew said.

“Thanks. I uh, I had fun,” Victoria whispered. “I mean, what you and me done? I had fun.”

“Me too,” Andrew smiled and nodded his thanks as an older gentleman held the door open for Andrew.

“Bye,” Victoria said quickly and ended the call.

“Bye,” Andrew agreed, looking around the small but clean station.

He wondered how Victoria had managed to get his phone number. Obviously, she’d gone through his pockets while he’d slept. Quickly, Andrew checked his pockets, then remembered, he’d been wearing another pair of jeans last night. A mental inventory did not show anything missing. With a shrug, Andrew saved Victoria’s phone number and stuck the device into his pocket again.

“You. You Randy?” the older gentleman asked, regarding Andrew with a squinted glare.

“Andrew,” Andrew said, shaking his head in denial.

“Piss ant son of a bitch,” the man snarled. “Supposed be here at eleven.”

“Sorry,” Andrew said and ambled to the ticket counter.

“You. You looking for work?” the man asked.

Andrew stopped and looked at the man. The man’s clothes were worn, faded, but clean. His boots looked like they’d never held a polish, ever. The man’s skin was reddened, obviously this man spent a great deal of time outdoors.

“What I got waiting for me?” Andrew asked himself, then answered. “Not a damned thing.”

“Doing what, sir?” Andrew asked the older man.

“Know how a horse ride?” the man asked. “I mean, we got a couple ATVs, but…”

“Some,” Andrew agreed.

Years earlier, William had gotten it into his head that he wanted to be a cowboy. So Big Bill and Minnie Carter had signed the five of them up for a two week dude ranch/cattle drive.

William had hated it; he was actually afraid of his horse. Andrew had loved it, though. And in a rare show of agreement with Andrew, Natalie had declared she too loved the experience. For once, William did not get his way. Big Bill and Minnie had dictated that they’d not be ending this vacation short simply because William wasn’t enjoying himself.

“Alright, need someone can work, need get my cows down,” the man said.

Randy did show up, over an hour late. He still reeked of the excesses of the previous evening, and Mr. Cleeson informed Randy his services would not be required.

Even though Carl Cleeson’s Silverado was only three years old, the odometer showed one hundred and nine thousand miles had been logged. Andrew dropped his duffle bag into the bed of the truck and stretched out in the passenger seat.

Andrew loved the mind numbing endless hours of hard work. There was very little thinking required as he and Carl and four other men labored to herd Carl’s livestock. Every Friday, Carl paid his men in cash. Three of his men looked terrible on Saturday. On Sunday, they had the choice of going to the local Baptist Church, or sleeping late.

Even though he was Catholic, Andrew went to the church with Carl and Sam, Carl’s wife. The third payday, Andrew noticed that his wallet was too fat to fold. But he also didn’t feel safe just leaving the money lying around. David, one of the hands had a sneaky look to him. And Tom, another hand always seemed to be broke when Monday came around.

So, he got an envelope and some stamps from Sam and mailed the bulk of the money to Victoria’s trailer. That Sunday, when Andrew went with Carl and Sam to church, his cell phone gave a buzz, alerting Andrew that there was a message. Apparently, they were close enough to a cell tower for Andrew to receive his messages.

“What is this? What did you do?” Victoria’s voice asked. “No, Rianna, I’m not talking to Mister Andrew; this is his voice mail.”

“Mither Dwew, you coming see me?” Rianna demanded.

After Reverend Paul Dashon finally finished what had seemed to be an overly long service, Andrew walked to stand near the Cleeson truck. He called Victoria’s number.

“Andrew, what is this? Why’d you send me this money?” Victoria demanded.

“Hey, I’m getting three hots and a cot,” Andrew said, smiling and nodding to some church goers that sauntered past him.

“And? No, Rianna, you wait your turn,” Victoria demanded. “Rianna, I need to talk to him first. Okay?”

“Like I said, I’m getting three meals a day, got a bed to sleep in, got a shower when I need it,” Andrew said. “I don’t need the money, but then again, I don’t have a little girl take care of.”

“I, listen, I mean it, I ain’t, damn it I ain’t no whore, hear?” Victoria sputtered.

“Never said you was,” Andrew said. “Look, use what you need to, hang on to the rest, okay? I’ll get it from you when I finish up here, okay?”

“Okay, hang on; Rianna’s about to have a fit,” Victoria said.

“Mither Dwew, when you coming see me?” Rianna ordered.

“Hmm, don’t know Sweetie,” Andrew smiled. “I’m working right now. Guess when I get finished up here.”

“Okay I love you, you hurry up and come see me, okay?” Rianna ordered.

“Soon as I can,” Andrew promised the three year old girl.

“You need anything?” Victoria asked.

“No, like I said, I got three hots and a cot,” Andrew said. “Victoria, I got nowhere and nothing to spend that money on. You do. So, use it; use what you need, okay?”

“You crazy,” Victoria declared and ended the call.

Seven weeks later, a much harder and leaner Andrew knocked on the door of the trailer. A moment later, Victoria pushed the door open and squealed with delight at the sight of Andrew.

“Hey! How’d you get here? Oh my God!” Victoria laughed happily and hugged Andrew. “Hey! You okay? When, how long you going be here?”

“Mither Dwew!” Rianna squealed, delighted.

Victoria was dressed in a pair of denim cut-offs and a bright blue sports bra, even though the air was chilly. The outfit displayed much of her Lily tattoo and a new navel piercing. Andrew did wonder briefly how much the new piercing had cost him, but shrugged it off.

“You want some coffee?” Victoria excitedly asked him, even as Rianna insisted that Mither Dwew come see her toys.

“No, thanks,” Andrew said, remembering her deplorable coffee from the last time he’d been in her trailer.

“I make it better now,” Victoria laughed. “That last time? That was half instant.”

After lunch, after Victoria proved that her coffee making had improved, Rianna went down for a nap. Victoria pulled Andrew into her quite cluttered bedroom.

“Here, here’s most of it; I needed use about three hundred,” Victoria said, pulling a grocery bag out of a dresser drawer. “Needed pay last month’s and this month’s rent. But everything else is there. You can count it, okay?”

“Ria, I trust you,” Andrew said, not even looking at the stacks of money in the bag.

“And…” Victoria said, reaching her arms up to pull Andrew down for a passionate kiss.

She began to unbutton his flannel shirt. Her chewed fingernails scratched his chest as she worked.

Their sex was hurried, frenzied. Just as before, Victoria’s fingers raked at Andrew’s back. She bit him often and managed to bite down on Andrew’s forearm hard enough to leave deep teeth marks. They both groaned in orgasm and Victoria had to release her bite hold on Andrew’s chest.

“Ria, look, just keep that money, okay?” Andrew said as they lay on her crumpled mound of pillows.

“What’d you call me?” Victoria giggled, tracing his taut abdomen with a ragged fingernail.

“Ria. Ria and Rianna, my two beautiful little blonde girls,” Andrew said.

That night, Rianna insisted that it be Mither Dwew that bathed her and read her the story of Rumpelstiltskin. The next day, when Victoria received her card for food assistance, Rianna wanted Mither Dwew to be the one that pushed her in the grocery buggy.

Three days later, Rianna was inconsolable when Andrew left their trailer. Victoria also had some tears as she hugged Andrew before slamming the door of the trailer shut.

“Women,” the uber driver commiserated as he drove Andrew to the Greyhound bus station.

Five weeks later, as a fine dusting of snow covered much of the ground, Andrew and two of the four hands wondered where Carl was. It was payday; usually Carl was there, cash in hand.

Stepping into the kitchen of the Cleeson home, Andrew saw Samantha Cleeson’s crumpled body on the living room floor of the modest home. He picked up the wall telephone and heard no dial tone; the line had been cut.

Andrew got into the Cleeson’s truck and drove toward the small town, checking his cell phone often to see if he had a signal yet. By the time he did get a signal, he was only a few miles from the Sheriff’s Office and drove the rest of the way.

Mrs. Cleeson had been strangled to death; Sheriff Olstoy could not tell if she’d been violated before or after her death. Carl had been struck repeatedly with a blunt instrument. There was no sign of that week’s payroll. There was also no sign of the two field hands David or Tom.

“Hell of a thing, I tell you. Hell of a thing,” Sheriff Olstoy grumbled.

“Uh huh,” Andrew agreed, angered at the remaining hands that were whining about not being paid for the week.

As far as anyone knew, Carl had no next of kin. Samantha had an older sister that lived in Sacramento, California. The sister asked that the cattle and the property be sold; she had no need or want of it.

By the time the Cleeson estate had been dealt with, Christmas was only a few days away. Andrew again returned to Merilee Lake. Victoria opened the door of the trailer and squealed happily.

“Mither Dwew, I went and seen Santa? And I told him, you bring me all the toys, and I want Mither Dwew be here for Christmas too,” Rianna excitedly informed Andrew.

Victoria was wearing only a long sleeved thermal top; she did not have any panties on underneath the simple garment. Andrew was made aware of this fact as Victoria flopped onto his lap.

“I used some that money you sent me to get Rianna some stuff for Christmas; that okay?” Victoria asked, nuzzling Andrew’s left ear.

“Ria, I told you, use that money,” Andrew whispered, then kissed her. “But yeah, that’s perfect. Little girls need big Christmases.”

“You the only one ever going call me that,” Victoria sighed, giving his ear a forceful bite.

Then she giggled happily. She waved her hands in excitement, blue eyes shining.

“Oh! Oh, I got show you this,” Victoria squealed.

On her bicep, Victoria had a new tattoo. The large red heart had Andrew’s name inside and Victoria searched Andrew’s eyes for his approval.

Julie had declared her love for Andrew. And then Julie had succumbed to William’s glib persuasion. She had even given William the gift of her virginity.

There was Terrie, then Angela, Anna Lynne. Each had declared their love of Andrew. And upon William’s insistence, each had tossed Andrew aside. Candy had simply been the latest to declare her love of Andrew, only to meet and fall under William’s spell.

None of those girls had ever put his name on their flesh in ink. None of those former loves had marked their skin with his name, put his name on prominent display.

“You like it?” Victoria asked breathlessly.

“Ria, I can’t believe, no one’s ever, I mean, wow,” Andrew stammered.

Victoria quickly pulled the thermal shirt on and crawled onto Andrew’s lap again. She kissed him, then bit down, hard, on his bottom lip.

“Love you,” she whispered.

“I believe you,” Andrew said, rubbing his lip.

Christmas morning, Andrew was surprised, shocked really when Victoria bundled up and bundled Rianna up and the trio walked to the Baptist Church for the Christmas celebration. Victoria clung onto Andrew’s arm and smiled prettily at the disapproving glares of the patrons of the church.

“They tell me all this?” Victoria said, pointing to her pierced eyebrow. “Somehow it’s a sin. I told them, show it to me. You say it’s a sin? Show it to me. They can’t. But somehow, I’m sinful. And, oh my God! When they seen my Lily tattoo? About shit themselves.”

The new bicycle with training wheels was a big hit; Rianna insisted on trying to ride, even though there was at least three feet of snow covering the gravel paths of the trailer park. Andrew took Rianna and her bicycle to the local park and applauded each movement the child made. When she grew cold enough, Andrew carried bicycle in one arm, girl in the other.

“Who’s ready for some hot chocolate?” Victoria happily called out when her girl and her man returned.

“Ew, hot chocolate? Augh, gag me,” Andrew teased.

“No, Mither Dwew, we cold. When we cold? We drink hot chocolate,” Rianna explained patiently.

Two days after Christmas, Andrew returned to Broken Field, Kansas and retrieved his truck and emptied out his storage unit. He returned to Victoria’s trailer, put some of his possessions into her trailer, and found another, smaller storage unit to put the few remaining items into the unit.

“We got a twuck now?” Rianna happily asked.

“Uh huh, but you have to wait until you’re sixteen before you can drive it,” Andrew told the girl.

“How old I got to be?” Victoria asked.

No one had ever shown Victoria how to drive. Snow packed roads were not an ideal place to teach the twenty year old woman how to drive. After a third near collision, Victoria managed to wrestle the uncooperative vehicle to the side of the road.

“That’s it!” she screamed at Andrew. “You! You the driver, hear? Me and Rianna? We the passengers.”

When the snows thawed, Andrew again braved showing Victoria how to drive. She managed to get them safely to the grocery store. She managed to get them safely to the local Save-Well department store. Then she managed to get them safely home again. Then Victoria broke down and sobbed out that she had been terrified the entire time.

In late April, a rodeo came to Benhurst County. Rianna was both terrified and thrilled of the pretty horsies. She allowed Andrew to put her into the saddle of a Shetland pony, but insisted that her Dwew had to stay right next to her as the pony’s handler led them around the corral.

“Yeah, young lady, I seen a bunch of Daddy’s Girls,” the handler shrugged when Victoria thanked the man for his patience and understanding wither daughter.

“That it? Huh? You a Daddy’s girl?” Victoria teased Rianna. “Huh? Mister Andrew’s your daddy now?”

“Uh huh,” Rianna said, safe in Andrew’s arms.

“Five thousand?” Andrew asked another man, reading an announcement that the rodeo would award five thousand dollars to anyone that could ride Monstro.

The bull was a truly fearsome looking animal, if the picture was to be believed. Andrew and Victoria studied the picture intently.

“Uh huh, got stay on him for at least eight seconds,” the man said, not taking his eyes off of Victoria’s small breasts in her colorful bikini top.

“Andrew, you’re not doing that,” Victoria pleaded.

“My daddy can do anything,” Rianna announced to the man.

“Honey, money? Getting kind of tight,” Andrew confessed to Victoria.

“Andrew, please don’t,” Victoria begged. “Rianna, shush. Your daddy don’t need be doing that.”

Reading over the forms, reading that the rodeo accepted no responsibilities should he become injured, Andrew jotted down his signature. The man loudly announced they had a challenger.

“You get yourself killed, don’t you come to me thinking I’m going kiss it and make it all better,” Victoria snapped at Andrew, jerking her daughter out of his arms. “You hear?”

“I promise, I get killed? I will not come running to you,” Andrew laughed.

“It’s not funny,” Victoria yelled at him.

In the chute, Monstro was already huffing and snorting. When Andrew dropped onto the beasts back and gripped the loop in his left hand, Monstro slammed against the sides of the pen, attempting to shake Andrew from his back.

“Remember, you come off him? Run to the nearest wall; we’ll pull you out of there,” a man yelled into Andrew’s ear.

“I hate you,” Victoria claimed, tears running down her small face. “You hear me?”

When the chute opened, Andrew had never experienced such terror in his life. Monstro had one goal and one goal only; to kill Andrew Michael Carter. The beast leapt, twisted, bucked and leapt again. Andrew wondered how he was supposed to run for the wall when every bone in his body was being broken by every movement of this animal.

The crowd’s roar drowned out the sound of the buzzer. Andrew had no idea his eight seconds had elapsed; he could not see the time clock, and he could not hear anything but the beasts fearsome snorts and bellows and the blood roaring in his ears.

Finally, the animal twisted and Andrew was able to see a wall nearby. He figured, he’d never get a better opportunity so released the loop and pushed himself from the animals back. Monstro had decided he would slam himself against the wall, so his momentum and Andrew’s momentum carried Andrew within grabbing distance of the wall.

“Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch! Brother, you done it!” the young man screamed, pounding Andrew on his back. “Eleven point four seconds, you hear?”

Andrew! Andrew, you okay?” Victoria screamed, carrying Rianna and running up to where Andrew sprawled on the dirt floor.

“I did it?” Andrew asked, getting to very weak legs.

“Yes, ass hole,” Victoria screamed, punching him in his belly as hard as she could. “You God damned ass hole! You could got yourself killed!”

“My daddy can do anything,” Rianna claimed.

“Brother, we got another bull called El Diablo; think you could give him a try?” another man excitedly asked Andrew.

“He’s not doing anything like that ever again,” Victoria screamed at the man.

“Here you go, Brother, five thousand dollars,” an older man said, holding out a check.

“Here, Ria,” Andrew said, handing the check to Victoria. “You take this and get yourself a wedding dress, hear?”

“A what?” Victoria gasped in shock.

“Seriously, this El Diablo? Another five thousand bucks,” the younger man pressed.

“My husband’s not doing anything like that again,” Victoria screamed, stuffing the check into the cup of her bikini top.

“You,” a Latin man sneered at Andrew. “Eleven point four? Not bad, no, not bad. But I tell you. This El Diablo? I ride him and I stay on longer than you can. Ten thousand dollars. Unless you are the chicken? Hmm? Maybe you wife, she wear the pants? Hmm?”

“George, you couldn’t stay on Monstro, what the fuck makes you think you could ride El Diablo?” the older man sneered at the brash Latin man. “Carter? Go ahead; I’ll back that ten thousand.”

“Andrew, sweetheart, please, please don’t. Oh my God, I thought I was going die watching you do that,” Victoria begged.

“When?” Andrew asked George.

“I hate you!” Victoria screamed at Andrew and marched away, carrying a fussing Rianna.

El Diablo lived up to his name; the beast was truly a devil with horns and four dangerous hooves. George and Andrew agreed on a coin toss to decide who would go first. With a sneer, George accepted his win of the coin toss and swaggered to where El Diablo bellowed, huffed and snorted.

Three seconds into the thrashing and bucking and bounding, George disqualified himself by grabbing the loop with both hands. That maneuver did not help him; El Diablo managed to shake George just as six second had elapsed from the time clock.

“I mean it,” Victoria screamed at Andrew. “That animal kills you? Good, you hear? Good!”

She turned her face away when Andrew attempted to kiss her. She refused to let Andrew hug Rianna.

Even inside of the chute, El Diablo tried to dislodge Andrew. Andrew was sure his balls had ruptured from the vicious bucking the animal was attempting to do.

Then the chute opened. Andrew screamed in terror as the animal spun, bucked, leapt, twisted and thrashed violently. Andrew could not see anything; the animal was moving too quickly for him to focus on anything.

“Ah, mother fucker!” Andrew screamed in terror and pain when El Diablo slammed him against a wall.

“Wall! Wall, get off, wall!” Andrew’s feverish mind screamed.

“Nine point two!” the young man screamed and laughed as he hefted Andrew up and over.

“Jesus, I ain’t doing that shit again,” Andrew gasped and sprawled on the dirt floor. “I don’t care how much money y’all paying, hear?”

“Get up!” Victoria screamed and Andrew, kicking him with her flip flop. “Get up so I can kick your ass!”

“The bull, he was tired; I got him tired,” George was trying to claim to the older man.

“George, would have had actually ride him to tire him out,” the older man guffawed.

“I demand a rematch,” George thundered.

“Tell you what, George, that bull ought to be good and tired by now,” the older man said. “Go ahead. Try and ride him again.”

“And if I do?” George said.

“Then we’ll be squared up,” the man shrugged.

“Hang on. I rode that fucking animal, got my balls kicked in, and you going say we’re squared up?” Andrew protested.

“Buddy, I meant what I said,” the man said, pulling out his check book. “Now? This is between George and me.”

Victoria took the second check and stuffed it into her bikini top with the first check. She glared in raw anger at Andrew, and gripped his hand in a tight squeeze as she marched the trio toward the exit.

“Hang on, I want to see if that ass hole can actually ride that beast,” Andrew protested.

“Then see if he’ll give you a ride home, ass hole!” Victoria snarled. “I told you don’t do it. I told you. Did you listen? No, you did not.”

“Hey buddy, man! That was some great riding,” a young man praised.

“Shut up!” Victoria screamed at the fan.

Andrew did not point out to Victoria that he had driven them to the rodeo and he had the only keys for the truck in his pocket. He turned as the PA system hissed and crackled out the announcement that George Garcia was attempting to break Drew Michael Carter’s nine point two record. The blast of the horn signified the opening of the chute and the crowd roared out.

“Oh, that’s a tough break, George,” the PA system announced a few seconds later.

“Wipe that smile off your face before I do,” Victoria demanded, again pulling Andrew to the exit.

The Baptist minister looked like he’d stepped in something as he met with Victoria Michelle Hansen and Andrew Michael Carter. His wife had worn the same pinched, pained expression on her face when she’d escorted the couple into her husband’s office.

“Sweetheart, I know you’re Baptist,” Andrew interrupted Reverend Hill’s stammering and throat clearing.

“No, not really,” Victoria said, shaking her head. “Just that they right down the street.”

“But obviously, this uptight, self-righteous, sanctimonious cocksucker has never read his own Bible,” Andrew continued, standing. “Obviously, he skipped right past the fact that Christ died for ALL, not just the ones this jackass approves of. No, Reverend Hill, we will not be getting married in your church. See, I want to be married by a Christian, not whatever the fuck you are.”

“Now see here, young man,” the Reverend sputtered, truly outraged.

“No, there is nothing for me to see here,” Andrew said, holding the door open for Victoria. “Your actions have shown us exactly what kind of man you are.”

The reverend’s wife did gawk at the impertinent couple; she’d heard the last declaration of Andrew’s. She did not say anything as Andrew escorted Victoria out of the church’s office.

“I love you so much,” Victoria giggled, pulling Andrew down for a kiss.

“And I love you too,” Andrew said. “Let’s go to St. Pius; maybe they’ll let us get married there.”

“Saint… That’s Catholic, right?” Victoria asked.

“Uh huh, guess what? I’m Catholic,” Andrew said.

“You are? No you’re not, are you really?” Victoria asked, surprised.

Father Gregory vaguely remembered Andrew Michael Carter; he’d served as priest at St. Thomas Aquinas in Bender, Louisiana when Andrew had made his First Communion. He shook his head sadly; the couple wanted a quick wedding and he would not officiate a quick wedding between a Catholic and a non-Catholic. The couple would be required to undergo counseling in the traditions of a Catholic marriage before Father Gregory would agree to their union.

“But one thing I’ve always wanted to know,” the man smiled at Victoria. “Those nose rings? What happens when you sneeze?”

“Same thing when you sneeze,” she smiled. “You wipe your nose. You sure you won’t marry us? I like you.”

“High praise indeed,” Father Gregory laughed a genuine laugh. “But no, young lady, I’m sorry. We do have rules regarding the sacrament of marriage.”

“We going to his church,” Victoria decided as they left the priest’s small, cluttered office. “I like him.”

The Reverend Upjohn of the Church Of Golgotha agreed to marry the couple. He smiled at Victoria’s whoop of delight and nodded his head as Andrew thanked him.

“The fact that the two of you have asked that your marriage take place in a house of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, rather than just go on down to the courthouse? Tells me you two are Christians, tells me you want Christ to be a part of your union. Well then, it would be the Christian thing to do, to agree to marry the two of you.,” the man solemnly declared.

“You can just go to the courthouse?” Victoria asked.

“We could,” Andrew said. “But I agree with the Reverend Upjohn. Our marriage needs to have God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit there too.”

“By the way,” Reverend Upjohn said after Victoria and Andrew had filled out the paperwork and given him his fee. “At the rodeo? That was mighty impressive riding.”

“Yeah? Well you better pray he never does that again,” Victoria snapped.

“So noted,” the man smiled even as sparks glittered in Victoria’s pretty blue eyes.

Even with fifteen thousand dollars to spend on a fancy wedding dress and an elaborate wedding, Victoria went with a simple, elegant pale pink dress. As she told Andrew, she could wear it after their wedding; no one would ever look at it and think it was a wedding dress.

“Of course? Can’t tell you the last time I wore a dress for anything,” Victoria laughed.

“You know, Ria? I think you got the most beautiful laugh in the world,” Andrew said, hugging her tight.

“Aw,” Victoria said, squeezing him tight. “Quit that binging and purging when I was like fourteen? When you say stupid shit like that? Makes me want to purge all over again.”

“It’s not stupid shit, you little brat,” Andrew smiled as she laughed. “It’s the God’s honest truth, Ria.”

“Oh, then, aw! Blah!” Victoria said, then pantomimed vomiting.

“Okay, why you got be like that?” Andrew asked.

“Honestly?” Victoria asked, losing her smile.

“Yes Ria, honestly,” Andrew said.

“Because, I’m afraid something’s going happen fuck this all up,” Victoria admitted. “I’m so afraid, I give in and let myself really start believing this shit? It’s just all going to blow up in my face and once again, there I am, the world’s biggest God damned loser.”

“You can’t be the world’s biggest God damned loser,” Andrew said, lifting her off of her feet and kissing her. “Because I already am.”

“I love you,” Victoria whispered into his neck.

Their wedding was sparsely attended; Victoria’s mother and second step-father sent a crock pot as a wedding present, but did not bother to attend. Ms. Francine, the woman that baby sat Rianna and her three children and Bobby, Ms. Francine’s latest boyfriend were the only guests on Victoria’s side of the aisle. There was no one on Andrew’s side of the aisle.

The reception was held in the back room of Boardwalker’s; Andrew finally got to try their trout and home fries. The band that had played at Centennial Walk had long ago ceased playing, so a local DJ supplied the music. And, since there were as many children as adults in attendance, he played several children’s tunes. The wedding photographer got many photos of the children hopping around the small room.

Andrew thought it was a colossal waste of time; Victoria was not twenty one and would not be able to go into many of the casinos or night clubs, but Victoria had it in her mind that she wanted to go to Las Vegas for their honeymoon. With a shrug and a ‘yes dear’ Andrew paid for air fare and hotel reservations.

Rianna was furious when she discovered she wasn’t going to Las Vegas and vowed never to talk to her mother or her Daddy ever again in forever. Forever lasted until Rianna was hungry and wanted a snack.

Their first day in Las Vegas, Victoria saw a tattoo parlor and pulled Andrew into the small, clean suite.

“Yes ma’am?” an attractive female tattoo artist smiled.

Andrew and Victoria left the tattoo shop, the third finger of their left hands now encircled by a wide yellow band bordered by black lines. Andrew’s tattooed wedding band had ‘Ria’ in cursive script and Victoria’s band had ‘Andrew’ in cursive script. Of course, neither tattoo was visible yet; both were covered by a pristine white strip of tape and a gauze bandage.

“See? See?” Victoria shrilled excitedly. “That? That’s forever! Oh Andrew. We going be married forever.”

Their fifth day, the day before they were scheduled to fly out, Andrew saw an older man staring at them. Instinctively, he moved himself between Victoria and the older man. The man smiled widely and walked toward them.

“Drew Michael Carter, I thought that was you,” the man said. “Rodeo? Uh, in Benjamin, no, no, Benhurst, Colorado.”

“Oh, yeah,” Andrew said, now recognizing the man that had paid him for the two bull rides. “Uh, it’s Andrew, not Drew.”

“So, you in town for this one?” the man asked.

“No; on my honeymoon,” Andrew said, indicating Victoria.

“Oh! Well, hell! Congratulations,” the man said. “Know, they got a bull? Called the Nevada Nightmare. Twenty five thousand anyone can ride him.”

“Twenty five…” Andrew said.

“You are not doing it; I don’t care if it’s a million, Andrew, I mean it,” Victoria strenuously objected.

“Sweetheart, what did Mrs. Jackson tell you? No more assistance, right?” Andrew wheedled.

Mrs. Amelia Jackson, the state employee had informed Victoria, now that Victoria was married, she would not be receiving her food card, or her housing stipend, her free medical for herself and her daughter.

“In other words, the system don’t like married people,” Andrew had commented to the stone faced government employee. “Unmarried? And knocked up? You good to go. But get married? Well, screw you and don’t let the door hit you on your way out.”

“Andrew, I don’t care; we’ll sleep in the truck if we have to,” Victoria pleaded with Andrew.

“When’s the tournament?” Andrew asked the older man.

“I hate you! You hear me? I hate you!” Victoria screamed at her husband, slapping at his chest and arms.

Very few people looked over to see what the commotion was. There were clangs and chimes and dings sounding out merrily. And women screaming at a man that had lost their entire savings was not an unusual occurrence in the lobby of a casino and hotel.

“Tonight at the arena,” the man said, pointing in the general direction of the location of the rodeo. “Seven o’clock.”

Monstro and El Diablo would have moved aside to allow Nevada Nightmare the right of way. According to the man that took Andrew’s signed form of consent and the gate fee, Nevada Nightmare had rolled on the last rider, crushing the poor man’s pelvis. To date, twelve men had tried, but none managed to stay on for longer than five seconds.

“Seen one? Just got out the gate and old Nevada threw him clear over his head. I mean, bam! One second flat,” the man chortled at the memory.

“Twelve? As in, you’re going be number thirteen?” Victoria stated to Andrew. “You still stupid enough do this? Number thirteen?”

“You don’t believe in all that?” Andrew asked as they ambled toward the area.

“Andrew, please, sweetheart, please don’t do this,” Victoria again begged. “Sweetheart, we don’t need the money that bad.”

“We don’t need it today. But what about tomorrow? Rianna’s needing go to the dentist,” Andrew reminded her. “And believe me, dental bills? Ain’t cheap when you the one paying them.”

“Oh ho, Gringo, you going try again?” George Garcia sneered when he saw Andrew.

“Nope,” Andrew smiled, shaking his head.

“Oh? You agree you are not man enough for the Nevada Nightmare?” George mocked.

“No, I said I’m not going try,” Andrew said, preparing to drop onto the beast’s back. “I’m going to do it.”

The PA system announced a challenger for the Nevada Nightmare. The crowd roared and cheered for the bull, jeering the foolish hopeful.

Andrew’s life flashed before his eyes. He had not had a good, happy, fulfilling life. His last conscious thought however, was of a beautiful young woman that said she loved him and a wonderful little three, almost four year old girl that called him ‘Daddy.’ Andrew dismounted and raced for the wall.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s been done,” the announcer declared. “The Nightmare of Nevada is over; the nightmare has been broken. Andrew Michael Carter!”

A split second later, Andrew would have been over the wall and the Nevada Nightmare would have slammed noisily but ineffectively against the wall. A few inches to the left or to the right, the Nevada Nightmare would have slammed, noisily but ineffectively into the wall.

The Nevada Nightmare’s left horn caught Andrew precisely on his left ankle bone. Andrew felt the hands of the men on his shirt, then a searing, mind numbing pain in his ankle. He felt his shirt rip as he tumbled backward into the ring, with an enraged bull just a few yards away from him.

“Andrew!” Victoria screamed and tried to scramble up the wall.

She lashed out viciously at the three men that grabbed her and pulled her back down to the dirt floor.

The crowd was on its feet, screaming as Andrew lay, unconscious on the ground. Two riders managed to lasso the head of the ferocious beast, but Nevada Nightmare lunged, pulling the two riders and their horses. One rodeo clown bravely ran between Nevada Nightmare and the prone body of Andrew.

“You ever, I mean you ever do that again, I will kill you,” Victoria sobbed as they pushed Andrew into the ambulance.

“Aw, God damn, really? They had cut my boot off?” Andrew complained as he looked at the cast on his left foot.

“Lucky they didn’t have cut your foot off,” Victoria grumbled, sitting next to his hospital bed. “They was worried they might not be able save it.”

“You know how hard it is get a pair of boots broke in like those?” Andrew complained.

“Know how hard it is get someone loves you?” Victoria said, wiping at her eyes.

“Yeah,” Andrew quietly agreed. “Yeah I do.”

“Your wife tried get in the arena; lucky for Nevada Nightmare, they stopped her,” the older man said, coming into the room.

“You!” Victoria hissed, raw hatred bubbling up.

“Hey, hey, I’m here take care of your man’s bills,” the older man hastened to calm Victoria.

“And we wouldn’t even be here you’d kept your mouth shut,” Victoria screamed, small fists balled up.

“Ma’am! This is a hospital!” an extremely obese nurse snarled.

Andrew did not like medication, had never liked taking medication. But he was very grateful for the pain medication, grateful for the muscle relaxers. With them, he was able to withstand the flight from Las Vegas to Colorado. With them, he was able to withstand Victoria’s driving from airport to home.

Rianna, with Victoria’s help managed to sign Andrew’s cast. With a scowl, Victoria added her own ‘Ria’ right underneath Rianna’s scrawled signature.

“And don’t think you getting out of eating pussy,” Victoria whispered in Andrew’s ear.

“Ride my face like a bull rider?” Andrew suggested, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“And that’s the only kind of bull riding we doing from now on,” Victoria agreed. “Andrew, seriously, what would have happened? TO us? If you’d gotten yourself killed? Rianna and me? What would have happened to us?”

She began to cry new tears. She leaned heavily against him.

“See? That’s what I’m talking about. I let myself believe? Let myself believe all this shit, believe it’s going be okay?” Victoria sobbed out. “And it’s just going blow up right in my face. And then what happens, huh? I’m just this big God damned loser all over again.”

A few days after their return from Las Vegas, Victoria and Rianna were sitting at the kitchen table, coloring in Rianna’s new coloring book. Rianna had made up a story about the pony she was messily filling in. Victoria encouraged her daughter’s imagination, pressing for more details.

“And, then? After you save all the butterflies?” Victoria asked, then jerked as there was a sharp rap at the front door.

“We all flew back home and Daddy and you was happy see us,” Rianna explained.

Victoria made sure the door was securely locked before yelling out, “Who is it? Who’s there?”

“Reynold Reynolds,” a man’s voice called back. “I’m a private investigator. DeGarde, Louisiana. Looking for Andrew Michael Carter?”

“What you want with him? He ain’t riding no more God damned bulls,” Victoria screamed, her anger bubbling up.

“No ma’am, this isn’t, I’m from his family,” Reynold called back. “Ma’am, could I, this would be a lot easier if I didn’t have to yell through a door.”

“Wait here,” Victoria snapped.

“Who you yelling at?” Andrew asked when Victoria stomped into the bedroom. “I’m in here so I know it’s not me.”

“There’s some guy, says he’s from your family,” Victoria snapped. “What you want me to do with him?”

“Shit, was hoping they wouldn’t find me here,” Andrew sighed. “Oh well. Go ahead, let him in. Knowing my family, they ain’t going give up.”

Victoria opened the door and motioned with her head. Reynold Reynolds urged his immense bulk into the trailer. Both he and Victoria winced as they heard the floorboards give an audible groan underneath his feet.

“Yeah, was down to two thirty,” Reynold offered. “That keto diet? Really works, but…”

“What happened?” Andrew asked, hobbling into the living room. “Ria, you make us some coffee?”

“Fourth of July, had a couple hot dogs, couple beers,” Reynold admitted. “Then, just kind of kept cheating, kept cheating, I’ll get back on it next week, and…”

“Next week never got here,” Andrew agreed. “I’m Andrew Carter. You are…?”

“Reynold Reynolds. Saw you on television,” Reynold said, easing his bulk onto the small loveseat. “Of course, had seen you like couple months earlier.”

“Okay,” Andrew shrugged, flopping into the recliner.

“Your uh, your family hired me to find you; your dad had cancer,” Reynold said, nodding his thanks as Victoria brought him a mug of coffee.

“Okay,” Andrew said. “Thanks, Ria.”

“I mean, man! You pretty much just fell off the face of the earth,” Reynold continued.

“No. Not really,” Andrew said.

“So, when I saw that bit on you riding them two bulls at that rodeo here, went and asked your brother if that was you,” Reynold said. “Think it was Monster and El Diablo, something like that.”

“What kind of cancer?” Andrew asked.

“Monstro and El Diablo. And he’s not doing it ever again, you hear?” Victoria snapped from the kitchen table.

“Hmm? Oh, he had pancreatic cancer,” Reynold said. “William? Your brother? Said that couldn’t be you; you were terrified of horses so weren’t no way you’d ever try bull riding.”

Andrew laughed a bitter laugh. Victoria glared at him from the kitchen table.

“It was William that was scared of horses,” Andrew scoffed. “Mr. Reynolds, I hope you charge the shit out of him for being such a lying ass sack of shit. He. He’s the one scared of horses, not me.”

“My daddy’s a cowboy,” Rianna announced.

“Well now, that right?” Reynold smiled at the young girl.

“Mm hmm,” Rianna agreed and returned her attention to her coloring book.

“But when that accident happened, in Las Vegas?” Reynold continued. “My God, have you seen it? It really looked like you were about to be hamburger. Anyway, your sister said it was you.”

“Wait a minute, you said Big Bill had cancer. Had. As in past tense?” Andrew asked, stomach knotting up.

“I uh, yes sir, he uh, his funeral was last Thursday,” Reynold admitted. “I’m sorry for your loss. Ma’am, could I trouble you for another cup?”

“No trouble,” Victoria said, getting to her feet.

“So Big Bill’s gone, hmm?” Andrew quietly asked, holding out his own mug to his wife.

“I uh, yes sir, sorry,” Reynold admitted. “If William hadn’t…”

“…Lied his stupid ass off, I’d been able tell my father good bye,” Andrew said bitterly.

“Yes sir, looks that way,” Reynold agreed. “Again, I’m sorry for your loss. He uh, he was a good man.”

“Oh bull shit,” Andrew snorted. “I once heard a rig manager say ‘if you can’t say anything nice about someone, you’re talking about Big Bill Carter.’ Big Bill was an ass hole, through and through.”

“Andrew!” Victoria firmly chided her husband.

“Well, okay, if Big Bill’s gone, why’d you bother coming see me now?” Andrew asked.

“Your uh, your mother insisted,” Reynold said. “Said they need you come on back home, help run Tri-Carter.”

“Tri-Carter?” Victoria asked.

“Oil rigs communications, computers, honey,” Andrew explained.

“That dangerous?” Victoria asked, small face hardening.

“I’d be sitting at a desk, pushing paper from the left side to the right side,” Andrew told her. “But uh, why isn’t William running it?”

“He, uh, he is,” Reynold said. “And according to your mother, he’s running it into the ground.”

“Because he doesn’t have a clue what it is we do,” Andrew thought aloud. “And he’s too damned arrogant to ever ask anyone for help.”

“Where’s Tri-Carter?” Victoria asked. “That in Kansas?”

“Louisiana, Sweetheart,” Andrew said. “DeGarde, Louisiana.”

“Well, when the Saints are playing the Broncos, don’t expect me to cheer for them Saints, hear?” Victoria said.

“Hang on, wait a minute, wait one stinking minute here,” Andrew laughed. “You mean, you tricked me into marrying a Broncos fan?”

“Wait a minute, you mean, I married a Saints fan?” Victoria smiled. “But I should have known. Only a Saints fan would be crazy enough to get on a bull.”

Victoria kissed Rianna on the top of her head. She squeezed the little girl tightly.

“Mommy’s so sorry, Rianna. She didn’t know Daddy was a Saints fan,” Victoria said.

“That’s okay Mommy,” Rianna assured her mother. “That’s okay.”

“Both of you, be quiet,” Andrew laughed. “Mr. Reynolds, it’s going be at least five, six weeks before I can drive.”

“Oh, I, uh, I can drive y’all home,” Reynold assured Andrew.

“Mr. Reynolds, this is home,” Andrew said firmly. “To you, this might look like a shitty little trailer in the middle of nowhere. To me? This is a palace compared to what’s waiting for me in Louisiana.”

“Ought To see where I live,” Reynold agreed, looking at the small but clean trailer.

Thanking Victoria for her coffee, Reynold Reynolds shook Andrew’s hand and left the trailer. Andrew hobbled to the door and watched the large man get into a large Cadillac. Before the man even started the car, he was speaking into his cell phone. With a sigh, Andrew closed the door.

“Ria, might as well get ready,” Andrew told Victoria. “Once he tells Big…”

Andrew felt the first sting of tears. Reynold Reynolds wouldn’t be telling Big Bill anything. His father, a man Andrew had feared and hated most of his life was gone. Andrew would never know what last words his father might have had for him; William robbed him of that.

“We going to Dee, Dee, where’d you say it was?” Victoria asked, putting her arms around his neck.

“DeGarde,” Andrew sniffled.

“Okay. How long should I pack for?” Victoria asked.

“Couple of weeks, I guess,” Andrew said.

The walking cast was cumbersome, but Andrew made it work. Victoria was happy to let Andrew drive; she hated driving. Rianna had a million questions; why were they going to Louisiana? Who lived in Louisiana? Were there really alligators in Louisiana? Were these alligators going to eat her up?

A small, clean motel in Falwell City, Oklahoma gave them a comfortable bed. Rianna loved the motel’s swimming pool and asked why they couldn’t stay a few more days. The promise of another swimming pool once they reached Louisiana did not mollify the girl.

“Your mother does have a swimming pool, right?” Victoria asked when Rianna had fallen asleep, rocked by the motion of the truck.

“Mm hmm, oh God yes,” Andrew said. “Big Bill went to a party at Gordon King’s house; Gordon King had a swimming pool with three fountains in it? So we have one with five fountains. Ugliest God damned thing you ever saw.”

A Waffle House in Lafayette, Louisiana served them a late lunch/early dinner. The waitress bordered on being rude as she stared at the numerous piercings Victoria’s face sported.

“My mother won’t just look,” Andrew warned Victoria. “Believe me, she will have some comments to make about them rings.”

“Think my momma don’t?” Victoria shrugged. “I’ll just tell your momma what I told mine; don’t like them? Don’t look.”

Pulling off of I-10 into DeGarde, Louisiana, Victoria swiveled her head, looking at everything. Andrew pointed out some sites of interest to her.

“The Dead End? That a Goth club?” Victoria asked, noticing the several luxury automobiles parked in front of the squat cinderblock building.

“It’s a gentlemen’s club,” Andrew shrugged.

“Like Cunning Stunts?” Victoria asked.

“Now, how you know about…” Andrew asked.

“Worked there for a bit,” Victoria shrugged. “You ever go there?”

Cunning Stunts? Or The Dead End?” Andrew asked.

“Either one,” Victoria asked.

“Mm hmm. The Dead End’s actually got pretty good plate lunches,” Andrew confirmed.

“Okay,” Victoria said and looked with interest as Andrew turned onto Welles Street.

“Aw, Jesus, great,” Andrew sighed, seeing that there were two luxury automobiles parked on the drive.

Minnie always made Joseph, their servant park her Mercedes-Benz in the garage. Big Bill always kept his extended cab pickup trucks in the garage. Two cars in the drive meant that either Natalie or William or both were present at the Carter home. It was unlikely that these cars might belong to friends of Minnie’s; Big Bill had run off any potential friends years ago.

“Well, might as well get all the shit over with at once,” Andrew said, opening his door.

His stomach knotted up as he helped Victoria out of the truck, then unhooked Rianna from her car seat. All of his fears, all of his doubts were once again crowding out all other thoughts in his head.

Victoria loved him. In all the time they’d known one another, Andrew had never worried or wondered about Victoria’s fidelity. Even when he was in the middle of nowhere, Wyoming, Andrew had not given one thought to her faithfulness.

Julie had said she loved him. Terrie had also declared an undying love for Andrew. So had Angela and Anna Lynne, all had said they loved Andrew, would love him forever. Candy and Andrew had even made plans to wed. And William had taken each girl’s affections from Andrew as easily as snapping his fingers.

“Look, I, uh, my brother? William?” Andrew said as he hoisted Rianna out of the truck.

“Where’s the swimming pool?” Rianna demanded.

“Later, Sweetheart,” Victoria said, taking the girl from Andrew. “It’s not time to go swimming right now.”

“He uh, he’s this real handsome dude,” Andrew said, putting his weight on his cane.

“So? I been around real handsome dudes before,” Victoria shrugged. “Ain’t never fallen in love with none of them like I done with you.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Andrew said as they walked up the walkway.

“What’s that mean?” Victoria asked.

“Ria, know how you afraid let yourself believe?” Andrew asked.

“Uh huh,” Victoria agreed.

“Well, when it comes to William, I, I’ve let myself believe, and it really, really, it just blows up in my face. Every time,” Andrew admitted.

“Oh,” Victoria said.

They continued to the door. When they stepped onto the first step, Victoria looked at Andrew.

“Well, know how you always trying tell me it ain’t going blow up in my face?” Victoria asked.

“Uh huh, Andrew said, stepping onto the next step.

“And there ain’t shit you can say tells me it ain’t going blow up just like every other time?” Victoria asked, stepping onto the third step.

“Uh huh,” Andrew said, pausing in front of the dark wooden door.

“And you know there ain’t shit I can tell you it ain’t going blow up in your face,” Victoria said. “We just going have to do this, get it over with and hope for the best. Sweetheart, that’s all we can do.”

Andrew bent and gave Victoria a quick kiss. Then he pushed the button. They heard the echoing chimes sound out.

“Yes?” William’s voice cut through Andrew, cutting from a small speaker nest to the doorbell.

“It’s Andrew,” Andrew snapped, already on the defensive. “And my wife and daughter, Victoria and Rianna.”

“Oh? Finally decided to show up? After Dad’s already dead and gone?” William mocked through the speaker.

“Would have been here sooner if you hadn’t been a lying sack of shit,” Andrew barked, enraged.

“William, who’s at the door?” Andrew heard his mother’s voice.

“Mom, it’s me. Andrew,” Andrew called out. “And I’ve got…”

“Andrew? Oh, Andrew!” Minnie’s voice floated.

A moment later, the door swung open. Minnie, looking every bit of her fifty six years rushed to hug Andrew. She stopped short when she saw the little pin cushion freak standing next to her errant son. Her eyes then focused on the little girl in the grotesque mutant’s arms

“I uh, who, Andrew, who are these people?” Minnie demanded.

“Mom, this is Victoria, my wife,” Andrew said. “And this is Rianna, our daughter.”

“I, wife? You? Oh my God, son, screw her if you have to, did you get a tetanus shot? But you didn’t really marry her, did you?” Minnie spluttered, outraged.

“Know what? Tri-Carter? Can go to hell,” Andrew snapped. “Bye Mother. Enjoy bankruptcy.”

“Andrew Michael Carter, you come back here,” Minnie demanded.

“Let him go, Mom,” William smirked. “Once a loser, always a loser.”

“Yeah? Want come here and tell me that to my face?” Andrew challenged.

“What. Ever,” William laughed and moved past Minnie. “Could kick your ass any day, anytime, anywhere. And with that broken foot? You don’t stand…”

Victoria cradled Rianna, turning the girl’s head away from the two combatants. She smiled a satisfied smile.

Yes, William was handsome, in a sleazy way. She’d seen that smirk on countless men that had paid her money when she danced at Cunning Stunts nightclub. Entitled, arrogant punks that never had to do an honest day’s work in their lives. If their mommies ever took the American Express card away, they wouldn’t know how to survive.

Andrew, her man, her husband knew what hard work was. And if need be, to make sure his wife and her daughter had food and shelter and whatever they needed, he would risk life and limb to provide for them.

William might think he was the better man. Andrew might believe that William was the better man. Victoria knew who the better man was; she had that man’s name on her arm, and on the ring finger of her left hand.

William’s mouth was still running when Andrew delivered a solid punch to William’s smirking face. William’s feet actually left the ground as he toppled backward. He was out cold when his head bounced on the walkway.

“You were saying?” Andrew smirked.

“But I want see the swimming pool,” Rianna whined.

“Good bye, Mother,” Andrew called out. “When you apologize to my wife for your inexcusable behavior…”

“Andrew? That’s Andrew?” Natalie screamed out, barging past Minnie. “Andrew!”

“She leapt toward her brother. Andrew crashed against his pickup truck when Natalie’s pregnant body plowed into him. Natalie hugged him and kissed him on his lips.

“Oh my God! Oh Andrew!” Natalie said, crying happily.

“Um,” Victoria said, voice very tight. “Andrew, Honey? Who is this?”

“Ria, this is my sister,” Andrew laughed at his wife’s jealousy. Natalie, this is Victoria, my wife. And the little doll with her is our daughter, Rianna.”

“Oh my God! I’m your aunt! Hi! I’m Aunt Natalie,” Natalie squealed to Rianna. “Victoria, it, it’s so great to meet you, hi Rianna, well, that’s a very pretty name, but then again, you are a very pretty girl, yes you are.”

“Son of a bitch, you sucker punched me,” William slurred through bloody lips.

“Sucker punched you? Bitch, you were looking right at me,” Andrew laughed, hobbling to the side away from Natalie and Victoria and Rianna.

William charged. Andrew swiveled to the side and let William crash into the pickup truck. Then Andrew brought his right foot down on William’s bent knee.

“I want see the swimming pool,” Rianna informed Natalie.

“Can I show her?” Natalie asked Victoria. “It’s just right out back.”

The police siren drowned out William’s anguished scream. Andrew raised both hands, showing the police officers that he was unarmed, other than his cane.

“I am calling Donald Pellichet right now,” Minnie called out to Andrew.

“Good,” Andrew nodded. “Good evening, officers.”

“Officers, it’s just a misunderstanding,” Minnie said, cell phone to her ear. “These are my two sons.”

“You sure, Ma’am?” the senior officer asked, looking at the writhing William on the ground.

“Yes sir,” Minnie said. “Lieutenant Hebert. You know how it is. One of them runs his mouth, the other one shuts it for him.”

“Momma, Rianna wants to see the pool,” Natalie said, now holding the girl in her arms.

“And? You know where it is,” Minnie said.

“Had a couple of cousins like that,” Lieutenant Steven Hebert agreed. “Sir? Can you stand?”

“Son of a bitch!” William screamed, speech garbled. “Officer, I fucking want to press charges!”

“Do you, William?” Minnie snapped. “After all, you started it, William. Andrew was leaving. You’re the one that just had to come out here and run your mouth, William.”

Minnie pointed to the front of the house, toward the security camera. William attempted to hoist himself to his feet, using Andrew’s pickup truck as leverage. The two police officers looked toward the security camera.

William tried to lunge for Andrew. Andrew hobbled quickly out of the way and William again crashed to the ground. Both police officers tore their eyes from the home to where William lay on the ground, grunting and thrashing.

Minnie shook her head, looking at William, “William, maybe you better leave. I think you’ve done enough for today, don’t you?”

“Mom, God, I can’t even walk!” William protested, clutching his right knee.

“But have the energy start up all kind of trouble?” Minnie said, turning away from William.

“Young lady,” Minnie said to Victoria. “I owe you an apology. Just saying ‘I’m sorry’ really isn’t enough. But I hope you’re the bigger woman than I and will accept my most sincere apology.”

“Yes ma’am,” Victoria agreed, after shooting Andrew a look.

“Come, Natalie has your child out back,” Minnie declared. “No, no Donald, false alarm; we don’t need you this time. Thank you. Have a good evening.”

“Fucker, I’m going kill you, you hear?” William threatened Andrew.

“You can try, pussy,” Andrew laughed, hobbling after his mother and his wife.

“Aunt Nat’li says you my Grandma,” Rianna announced to Minnie when the trio stepped into the back yard.

“I uh, well, yes, I suppose I am,” Minnie said, frowning.

“Look Mommy, look at the pool!” Rianna enthused.

“I see that,” Victoria agreed, looking at the monstrosity that Big Bill had commissioned for his back yard.

The Olympic sized pool had a concrete pad in the center, a concrete pad in the shape of a ‘C’. Five fountains jetted ten feet into the air, splashing down onto the C.

“Good God; it is as ugly as you’d said,” Victoria whispered to her husband.

“Grandma I can go swim?” Rianna begged.

“I up, well, if your Mommy says it’s okay,” Minnie said, still flustered at the little stranger that was calling her ‘Grandma.’

“Go ahead; we’re right here to watch you,” Victoria smiled.

With that, Rianna pulled off her Mickey Mouse tee shirt and pink shorts. Clad in her panties, the child raced for the pool.

“Whee!” Victoria laughed as Rianna jumped into the water.

“Is that, does that, Andrew, that child has a tattoo?” Minnie sputtered in shock, seeing the rose tattoo on the child’s back.

“No, Mom, it’s a temporary tattoo,” Andrew laughed.

“She seen mine and wanted one,” Victoria explained. “So I got her a couple of transfers.”

“You? Have tat, Andrew, please tell me you don’t have such disgusting things,” Minnie demanded. “And please tell me you don’t have any, any, whatever those things are called.”