Riveted: Drawn Series Book 1 (23 page)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am afraid to look.” I said.

“I will look for you,” she said.

“You are two hours away,” I replied.

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

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

           
There was a knock on the door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There. Now we are even,” she said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice,” she said.

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

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

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

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

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