Unstoppable (17 page)

“So, Kace. It’s nice to have you here. How was your week?” my father asked.

“It was good. Shane and I cooked burgers at Ripp’s house,” mid-sentence, Shane elbowed Kace, looked up from his plate, and whispered.

“Sorry. Mike’s house. And we got in trouble. It was fun,” Kace smiled and took a bite of her burger.

“Got in trouble? What did you get in trouble for?” my father asked as he glanced back and forth between Kace and me.

“They didn’t get in trouble, I just…” I began to explain.

“Quiet, Mike. Company is speaking. Don’t be rude. Go ahead Kace,” my father said softly, wagging his fork at Kace as he spoke.

I pressed my forearms onto the edge of the table and leaned forward, attempting unsuccessfully to get Kace’s attention. Her focus was fixed on my father as she responded to his questions.

“Well, Shane and I cooked burgers at Mike’s house. I like burgers.
A lot
,” she turned toward my mother and smiled.

“And, when we cooked them, the grease dripped down the grille into the bottom. Yesterday, Ripp was cooking,” she shook her head, having remembered the house rule regarding nick names, “I mean
Mike
was cooking, and the grille caught fire from the grease. And his chicken caught fire. And Shane and I got in trouble. That’s pretty much it.”

“
You
got in trouble because
Mike
burned his chicken?” my father asked.

“Pop…” I started to explain and got the fork pointed at me.

“Well, it didn’t
burn
. There was just a flame for a minute or two. Until he found the spray bottle,” Kace smiled.

“That’s not your fault, Kace. You either Shane. Damn it Mike,” my father turned to face me, “you can’t blame other people because you don’t know where the damned spray bottle is. You always going to need a spray bottle if you’re grillin’, you know that.”

“Pop, they left grease in the grille. It’s a chicken grille. For chicken. Chicken don’t flare up and catch fuckin’ fire. Burgers do. It ain’t a burger grille. They cooked burgers and didn’t tell me. This is a stupid conversation, I’m done with it,” I growled as I shook my head at Kace.

“Shane’s your best friend. He cooked a burger for his fiancé at your house. Burgers make grease and grease catches fire. There ain’t a good way that I know of to disassemble a grille and remove all of the grease splatter that gets in ‘em. So, you let it burn off, Mike. And you keep a spray bottle handy. I taught you that. And I know you ain’t got a grille for burgers and another for chicken, so stop callin’ that damned thing a
chicken grille
. It’s a god damned
barbeque grille
. For barbequing whatever someone wants to grille. And did ya hear that, Shirley? Kace likes burgers,” my father looked across the table toward my mother as he filled his fork with potato salad.

“Sure did, thank you Kace,” my mother responded without looking up from her plate.

“Fine, I can’t win. Let’s just eat, Jesus,” I barked.

“Burgers are fabulous Mrs. Ripton,” Shane said as he stood from the table.

“Ass kisser,” I said as I rolled my eyes and picked my burger from the plate.

“Michael,” my mother whispered.

“I’ll have another if that’s okay,” Shane said softly.

“Hell, have two, you’ve got to get ready for that fight, son. You need to be as big and as strong as you can. Hell, have three more,” my father said cheerily.

“And speakin’ of fiancés, when are you going to bring that girl over here, Mike? What’s her name, Liv?” my father asked between bites.

As Kace covered her mouth and Shane looked over his shoulder toward the table, I did my best to respond without emotion, “I ain’t seein’ her anymore.”

“What happened, Michael?” my mother asked as she looked up from her plate.

“She’s a bitch, mom. I’m over her,” I responded as I angrily stabbed a few grilled vegetables with my fork.

“What’d she do?” my father asked as he pushed himself away from the table.

“She got mad and doesn’t want to talk to me anymore, Pop. It’s fine, I was done talkin’ to her anyway,” I assured him.

“What’d she get mad about? Put a burger on here, Shane,” my father said as he approached Dekk, who was still stalling at the kitchen counter.

As Shane put a burger on my father’s plate, I hesitated in responding, hoping someone would change the conversation. I really wasn’t in the mood to talk about Liv, and truly wanted to forget about her. My new focus was Vee, and I was excited to see where she and I may eventually settle. As I quietly ate my vegetables, and acted as if I didn’t hear my father, he started his inquiry of the table.

“Well, someone speak up. What the hell happened?” he asked as he walked back to his seat.

“From what she told me she was upset because she thought Mike was going to let the robber take her when he took the car,” Kace said in a matter of fact tone as she stood from her seat and turned to the kitchen counter.

“Oh my word, what happened? Is everyone alright?” my mother gasped.

“Robber? Car? What happened to my car?” my father grumped as he dropped his fork onto his plate.

“God damn, everyone settle down. Everyone’s fine. Look around you. We’re all fine. Nothing happened to the car, Pop. And it ain’t fuckin’ yours anymore. I bought that son-of-a-bitch fair and square. Some shit-bag tried to car jack me,” I pushed myself away from the table and leaned my chair onto its rear legs as I shook my head.

“You was gonna let the guy take the girl with my car?” my father asked in disbelief as he looked up at Kace and then toward me.

“No, Pop. I knocked that motherfucker out, right there in front of the cops. She’s a bitch and we ain’t talking about her anymore. I’m done with this conversation.”

“The police were involved? Oh Michael,” my mother sighed.

“Mom, he tried to steal the car at gunpoint. Yes, there were cops involved,” I chuckled.

“I knew it. Keep goin’ to Rundberg, and someone’s gonna get killed. God damned crack heads. Did the car get scratched or anything?” my father leaned forward and rested his arms on the table as he spoke.

“The car ain’t scratched. The girl’s a bitch, and I beat the dude’s ass. When I smacked him, he fired a round into the fuckin street as the cops were rollin’ onto the scene. They were gonna press charges for assault, ‘cause I kicked him in the face, but Shane signed some boxing magazine for the cops and they decided to let it slide. And that’s fuckin’ it. Now, were done talking about it,” I dropped the chair onto all four legs and reached for what was left of my burger.

“You shouldn’t kick people’s faces, Michael,” my mother breathed.

“He fired a round into the street?” my father asked.

“The gun was loaded?” my mother gulped.

“Yeah mom, unloaded guns are pretty much nothing more than heavy sticks. People load ‘em. We’re in Texas, you know,” I laughed.

“Don’t talk to your mother like that, Mike. You’re lucky you weren’t killed. He was a crack head, wasn’t he? And I told you about fightin’ in Rundberg. When are you going to stop that shit?” my father complained.

“Pop, it was two blocks from my house. It wasn’t in Rundberg. And I beat that kid’s ass in Rundberg, Made thirty-four hundred. Maybe took me five minutes,” I clenched my fists, pressed them together, and raised them to my mouth.

“I don’t like the fightin’ Mike. I just don’t,” my father complained, still leaning forward on the edge of the table.

“Well, you like it when Shane does it,” I raised my eyebrow and waited for his response.

“Shane fights professionally. You do too. But that bare knuckles stuff and fighting over a car is gonna get you killed,” he shook his head, sat back in his chair, and crossed his arms.

“Pop, listen. Good people act good, pretty much all the time. But bad people do
bad
shit, as long as they think they can get away with it,” I hesitated, leaned onto the table, and looked at my father.

“Boxing is a sport, just like football or Lacrosse. But fightin’ is fightin’. They’re two separate things. Someone who’s willing to beat the hell out of life’s shit-heads? We keep the bad people in check. People like me walkin’ around being all mean and intimidating keep the shit-heads in this world guessing. Because there are people willing to beat their asses, they’re always wonderin’ what might happen if they try and pull off some dumb shit. If it wasn’t for me and people like me walking around flexin’, we’d all have to wait for the cops. And we all know there ain’t always a cop around. Shane beats the hell out of people too, Pop. You just don’t hear about it because he sits over there and just nods his damned head,” I pushed myself away from the table, feeling like I had made my point.

“So you’re saving the world now huh? Mike, you beat on people because you
like
it. That and you’re just mean. If Shane beats on somebody, I’m sure they deserve it. Look at Shane, son. You could learn a lot from him. He’s sittin’ over there with his fiancé. You need a solid woman in your life,” he waved his hand toward Shane as he spoke.

“Pop, I met a woman. I’ll see how things go with her.”

“Where’d you meet her, Michael?” my mother looked up from her plate and smiled.

“Downtown, I met her downtown,” I smiled.

“Did ya meet her in the bar? Is she a barfly? Those girls are always trouble, son,” my father interrupted.

“She’s an attorney, pop. She’s a Federal Defense Attorney,” I bragged as I leaned into my chair.

“An attorney?” my mother and father asked simultaneously.

“Yes, an attorney,” I responded as I rocked my chair onto the rear legs.

“Well, that might come in handy for you, seeing an attorney. Well, tell us about her, what’s she like?” my father asked.

“I met her, Mr. Ripton. She’s beautiful, intelligent, and well dressed. I believe she’ll keep Mike grounded. We’re all pretty excited about her,” Dekk said as he wiped his hands on his napkin.

Dekk rarely spoke, but when he did, he generally had something to say worth hearing. He was my best friend for a reason, and he knew his expressed approval of Vee would prevent my father from grinding on me about her. I looked at Dekk and winked in appreciation.

I glanced at Kace and winked.

Yeah, I’m pretty damned excited about this one.

That’s an understatement.

RIPP.
The thought of being in a D/s relationship excited me and satisfied me both. Something about Vee caused me to contemplate what I had never considered in the past. Generally speaking, the thought of actually being in a relationship with a woman made me laugh. The thought of a relationship with Vee, however, made me smile. I wondered if two weeks in the future I would look back on all of these thoughts as being a really bad idea and nothing more than good life experiences. Time, I suppose, would tell.

I sat on her couch and waited for her to change clothes. A long night at work changed our plans for dinner, and we decided to spend an hour or so together at her house. I suspect this is the life of an attorney, especially one in the position she’s in. Work comes before anything else. Of the three nights we have gone out on dates, two of them have been later than we originally planned, all as a result of her late nights at work.

As I relaxed on the couch, a fuckin’ cat walked up, stared at me for a minute, and jumped on the cushion beside me. Cats creep me the fuck out. They rate right below a clown on my chart of shit that grosses me out. After looking around the room to make sure Vee wasn’t near, I pushed it on the floor and wiped my hands on the couch.

Immediately, it jumped right back onto the couch beside me. I looked around the room, stood up, and walked to the chair situated in the corner of the room and sat down. I tried my best not to make eye contact with it; but eventually it jumped down, walked to the chair, and looked up at me. As I was preparing to toss it down the hall, Vee walked into the room

“I see you’ve met Candy,” she said as she walked into the room.

“The cat?” I asked as I looked down at the cretin.

“Yes, the cat. She’s a lover. She’ll get right up in your lap if you’re not careful,” she chuckled as she sat on the couch.

“It ain’t gonna get in my fuckin’ lap, at least not for very long. I ain’t real fond of cats. It just as well be a clown as far as I’m concerned. Fuckin’ thing’s creepin’ me out, it keeps lookin’ at me,” I complained as I waved my hands in the cat’s direction.

“Well, she sure won’t hurt you,” Vee chuckled as she patted her thigh.

As if the cat were trained, it looked at Vee, slowly walked to the couch, sprang up on the cushion, and relaxed into her lap. As soon as she began touching it, it curled up into a ball and started scratching her legs with its front paws. I rubbed my bicep with my hand as I watched the scratching slow down to what appeared to be a few inadvertent reflexive motions.

That’s fucking gross.

“So how was your day?” she asked.

“It was good. I worked out for a few hours, washed the Chevelle, and Dekk and I went to the bar for lunch. We ended up hanging out there until five. I went home and showered thinkin’ we were going to meet at six. That’s just about it,” I continued to rub my bicep and stare at the cat.

“How long you let that thing sit on you like that?” I asked as it rolled over onto its back.

“Sometimes we’ll sit here all night. She’s all I have. She’s all I’ve had for, well five years now,” Vee responded.

I sat and watched her pet the cat, attempting to recall all of the people I had been with in the last five years. I couldn’t remember the women spanning the last six months very well; and in fact lost track at about four weeks. The thought of Vee coming home to a cat every night was difficult to comprehend and saddening in some respects.

“So, for the last five years, what’s your typical evening been like?” I asked as I tried to relax in the chair.

She looked around the room and stroked the stomach of the cat. “Well. Whenever I come home from work, I usually change clothes and relax, listen to some music, study, and go to bed. That’s pretty much it. And I am sorry I was late, I had to get a few motions filed.”