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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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TIC - 19. Chapter 19

"Hey, sleepy owl."

Grinning Ty stretched, "I think that was fire owl white boy."

 

"Hey Horny owl." Nick giggled grabbing his morning wood and kissing his neck.

 

Giggling, Ty winced from the tickles on his neck, "Hey one who makes horny owl complete."

 

Scooting on top of Ty Nick ground his morning wood against Ty's as he ravaged his neck and pulled him into him. He pause as he whispered, "I think you’re missing a piece inside of you. But don't worry I know how to complete you this morning." He slid down kissing his way over his gasping chest. Pausing to lick and rub his nipples only briefly. He was wasting no time going for his target as he bit lightly then sucked a rippled roll of muscle in the already undulating stomach. Ty gasped and curled his pelvic mound up in response. Nick slipped down and nuzzled his mound gathering his scent on his face as he licked his balls and slid up to almost violently suck his shaft to the hilt.

 

Ty's hands went to his head as his hips rose to meet the bobbing head. Ty groaned and writhed as Nick swirled his head before going back down. Ty could feel his head swelling tightly in the throat of his boy. Nick waited for his next upward thrust and worked his finger into his pucker, relaxing downward his wrinkled hole opened expectantly and was not disappointed and Ty whimpered and he wriggled his finger in the opening. His bucking became intense and a yelp escaped as Nick found his magic button and he curled his finger back into a knot that applied pressure in just the right place, there was no escaping it, no on again, off again, it was constant never ceasing stimulation as Ty exploded and Nick continued.

 

Gasping Ty pulled at the sheets unable to breathe as Nick continued and the knuckle still stimulated his now super sensitive prostate. An animalistic loud moan escaped his mouth as Nick gripped and sucked relentlessly. Ty felt a new build up, greater than before and rushing volcanically from his mound rushing to escape and Nick held him tight as he quivered and bucked and quivered some more. He arched rigidly upward pressing Nick's head down as he rolled over on top of him, bending his knees to force his head out of Nick's mouth but forcing Nicks knuckle to press one more time against his prostate and he lurched forward trying to escape the stimulation that was almost too much to take any longer. He lay there gasping, trying desperately to get enough breath to speak.

 

Nick spoke first, in a breathless voice. "Well? Are you complete?"

 

Ty, still unable to speak brought one knee over Nicks and with a gargantuan effort, rolled on top of him and kissed him before uttering, "Oh ya, I can die now."

 

Nick giggled, "Maybe you should wait until after breakfast, you should never die on an empty stomach."

 

Getting his breath back he said, "You may have to spoon feed me I don't think I have the energy to get out of bed." Nick smiled, "Come on, let's get a shower. It'll reenergize you." Ty looked down and noticed Nick was covered in cum.

 

"You got off on getting me off?"

 

"Ya, you're so hot when you writhe and whimper."

 

"Hey, I don't whimper."

 

"Ya, you do and I love it." He kissed him smearing his cum covered body on Ty's. "Now, come on, let's clean each other up.

 

♂♂♂♂♂

 

"What's next Mr Jean Claude?"

"How about charcoal, have you ever done anything with it?"

 

"Ya, made burgers."

 

"I meant artistically." He said smiling.

 

"No. What do you do, take a briquette and use it like a crayon or something?"

 

"Why don't I spend some time with you today and show you some techniques and then you can play around with it. Get a feel for it. Then you can do something for me in it. Just see if you have the feel for it."

 

"Sure, when do you want to start?"

 

"Give me some time to get some things set up. Perhaps after lunch? It will be too hot to do much outside anyway. I think that would be a better schedule don't you? That leaves the mornings to do things outside with the others."

 

"Ok, that sounds like a plan. I want to take Camille out for a bit this morning. We haven't been out much since we got company."

 

"Great, then when you get back, we'll look at some techniques. Don't worry about being on time, this is relaxed. We have lots of time. Art should never be rushed."

 

"Did I hear you say that you were going for a ride in the morning Ty?" Nick asked walking into the room.

 

"Ya, Nick. Is that alright?"

 

"Of course it's alright. You know you don't have to ask. I was just curious whether or not you wanted some company. It's ok, if you need some alone time."

 

"Sure, let's leave early. I want to go back up there and see if I can see some more deer. They're beautiful to watch."

 

"Alright, let's put together a breakfast that we can take with us and we'll leave about first light."

 

Ty's face broke into a huge smile. "It'll be like a morning picnic."

 

♂♂♂♂♂

 

"Dominique, let's go for a swim. I want to cuddle on the beach in the sun."

 

"I think that is a lovely idea. Perhaps the others may want to come along?"

 

"Well, uhm, I was thinking maybe just you and I could go this time." Troy looked down at his feet as he said it, glancing up only when Dominique didn't answer right away.

 

"Troy, I think we have to guard our hearts. Our time is but short. The closer we are the more our hearts will hurt when it is time to go our separate ways."

 

Looking down troy took a breath, "I think it is already too late to safeguard my heart. I know it will hurt a great deal already. I just want to make the most out of the time we have together." He looked into Dom's eyes. "Please, I've never known anyone like you and I may never again."

 

Dominique pulled him to him, their flaccid boyhood coming together as they embraced. "I too think it is too late. My heart will be crushed when we part."

 

Troy leaned back to see the smiling face of Dominique, "You mean you uhm, like. Maybe like me . . . some too?"

 

"No, sadley I can not say this." Troy was crushed until Dominique lifted his chin, "I think it is much beyond a little. I think my heart is becoming very comfortable in your hands. If it is possible to love in such a short time then I am that with you."

 

Troy stared for a moment as what he said percolated down before breaking into a broad smile. "You, uhm . . . love me?"

 

"There is no other way to say it. Yes, I love . . . you!" Troy's face beamed as he leaned in and kissed him. "I love you too." He stepped back and held his hands. "I said it. I actually said it! I Love you. And you said it back!" He bubbled over with joy, before he burst out with a scream as he took off running, naked, arms outstretched and jumping and spinning through the meadow. His whoops and laughs of joy echoed back down the hill.

 

♂♂♂♂♂

 

"What was that?" Oggie asked pulling the kitchen curtain back to peer out.

 

Sharon slipped her hands around his waist as she looked over his shoulder. "Looks like a happy boy launched across the meadow. He sure is happy about something."

 

"Well as long as he's happy and not running from another bug, I'm good with it."

 

"I think after lunch I need to roll back down the hill and see to things at the Inn." Oggie spun around in her arms and pulled her in for a small kiss.

 

"Maybe you should take a little nap first, wouldn't want you falling asleep at the wheel."

 

"Ya, and I'll bet I would get plenty of sleep wouldn't I?"

 

"Well, maybe a little. I'm thinking we need to go into town later this week to get groceries anyways. We could stop in and give you a hand with things. If we're going to be a family we're going to have to know what we can do to help."

 

"Well there are a few things that need fixin'. The window sticks in thirteen. The beds being held up by bricks in eleven and the door on 6 won't latch. The front needs a new coat of paint and the sign has seen better days. Even if I decide to sell it, those things will need to be done."

 

"Great, then we'll call it a date.

 

"Hey Pa, Oh sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. Nick said backing out with a blush.

 

"No, you're alright, we were just talking what's up?"

 

"Well, you got a minute so we can talk?"

 

"Sure, you want to go in my office?"

 

"Ya, that'll be fine," giving a slight nod to Ms Sharon, "Excuse me, I'll wait in there until you're done." And he left the room hat in hand.

 

"That boy sure has some manners. He is so sweet. What did you do to deserve him." Sharon said coming chin to chin and looking up into Oggie's eyes.

 

"That's his mother's contribution. He got his eating from me." He kissed her, "I'll be right back."

 

"Take your time, I'll make a snack to keep you from starving until dinner."

 

"Well you're not cooking today. We didn't have you come out here to work like you do at the inn. Besides, Nick is pretty good in here and he likes it. So we don't want him to get out of practice.

 

♂♂♂♂♂

 

"Sorry to take you away from Ms Sharon Pa."

 

"No worries son, what's up?"

 

"Well Pa, it's Ty. He's just. Uhm, I don't know how to say it pa. But he's not like all the way in the family kinda."

 

Oggie took a look at his son trying to figure out what he was saying. "Is there something wrong? Did he say something? I don't understand what you're getting at."

 

"I don't know it's like he is still a visitor here. Like there isn't anything here he can lay claim to. Like he told Jean Claude he was going to take Camille out in the morning because he hasn't spent much time with her. I overheard and asked him if he wanted company or if he wanted some alone time. And he said ya, but it was like he was asking permission to take Camille out like she wasn't his and lord knows, if horses pick their masters then Camille has sure laid claim to him.

 

Oggie thought for a moment. “Part of being a family is being responsible for each other. Caring for each other, protecting each other. He’s certainly done that. He placed himself before us in that holdup didn’t he? I guess I just don’t get what you mean son.”

 

“Uhm this is really hard to explain. Uhm, Ok, look. I think that he still feels like an outsider because we don’t have a history. I hang on to the memories of mom like you do. That binds us together in a special way. I think that we need to make it so that he starts building his share of the memories that he can use to belong here.”

 

“And how should we do that? I mean he has created a lot of memories already. Memorable ones. It’s not every day that you get a new name and he’s received two within the last couple weeks!”

 

“Gosh I’m not doing this very well. Those are memories, but they’re memories of things that happened to him, not that they aren’t important. But they are things . . . memories that he didn’t create. They happened to him. He needs to have memories with us that “he is responsible for making. Dang. . . Look pa, he belongs to us right?”

 

“Ya, I guess.”

 

“He belongs to us because we decided to care for him, to make things the best we could for him. He was powerless to change his own destiny. That’s what made him ours. He doesn’t have anyone that depends on him. So how can he feel needed. That’s it dad. That’s what I’m trying to say. He isn’t needed, depended upon by anyone. Being loved is one thing, but being needed . . . well that goes past being loved I think. At least in some ways. Think about it. Would you rather be loved and not needed or needed but not loved?”

 

“Well I think one leads to the other in time. What do you want to do son; what do you have in mind? All this is leading someplace but I just don’t see it. How do you make someone needed?”

 

“I don’t know pa. That’s why I came to you. I figured you’d know about this stuff.”

 

“Well I’ll think on it son. I never looked at it the way you do but now that you pointed it out, I’ll think on it. It has to be a genuine need or he’ll see right through it. And let’s be real, we’ve been living a lot of years without him so needing is pretty much covered. But I’ll think on it while I’m working on the plans on my desk. We’ll come up with something son. Why don’t you start lunch. Maybe you can get Ty to help.”

 

Nick looked at Oggie with wide eyes, “Pa! you’ve seen him in the kitchen. He could burn water!”

 

“Well then he needs to learn doesn’t he? Everyone has to start someplace. Start him on something easy. Help him do it.”

 

“But Pa . . .,”

 

“. . . Look at it like a lesson in needing. He “needs” to learn how to cook before he burns down the house.” Oggie said smiling.

 

“Alright Pa, you’re right. It’s just . . . uhm, never mind, I’m on it.” Nick said as he turned towards the kitchen and made for the door to call Ty. He reached for the door knob and froze and stared at the site out front. Ty had the boom box in his hand and was dancing around wiggling his butt with his hand in the air. Nick turned and ran into the office and grabbed Oggie by the hand, “Come on, you gotta see this.” And he led Oggie across the living room and into the kitchen. “Look!” Nick just pointed. Oggie stood and stared a wide smile growing on his face.

 

“Well if that doesn’t take the cake.” Camille was prancing. She was dancing with Ty. Back and forth she stepped on her front feet shaking her head until the music stopped and Ty hugged her around the neck stroking her mane.

 

"Dang Pa, you never have a video camera around when you need one. I don't think anyone would ever believe this one without proof. That was just too weird." Nick looked at Oggie's smiling continence for a moment, before turning back to look out the window.

 

Oggie noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye, "Something on your mind son?"

 

Nick looked at Oggie for a moment before turning his gaze back outside, "No Pa. Just thinking."

 

"Thinking about what son?"

 

"Just things. So much is changing."

 

"Ya, there is a lot going on to be sure. You ok with all of it?"

 

"Ya, Pa. I'm good with it."

 

"What parts bothering you son. I know you. I can read you, remember? Somethings spinning a little off kilter in that little brain of yours. You wanna talk about it son?"

 

"Nah, It's just that everything and everyone is changing except me. I'm just the same me as I've always been."

 

Oggie pulled Nick to him. "I think you're changing too son. You just don't see it. You're a lot happier today then I've ever seen ya. And look what you have done for all of us. Especially Ty."

 

"I just do what needs doing pa. That's not special. And it's the same thing I've always done. I'm just me."

 

"Well I don't think you need to do anything else. You're perfect the way you are son. I'm proud of you just the way you are."

 

"Thanks Pa. Maybe I'm just bored with just being me. Look at Ty, he's extraordinary in almost everything he does. You build beautiful things where there was just a bare patch of ground." He paused for a moment, "I just don't have anything to bring to the table that's extraordinary. I'm just plain me."

 

"What's brought all this on son? You're one of the most extraordinary kids I've ever seen. Everything you do you make look easy. You always know just the right things to say. That alone is a talent that not many people have. And I'll bet if you ask Ty, he'll tell you a few other things that you do extraordinarily."

 

Nick blushed and grinned. "Ya, well he does that perfect too. I better get on with lunch pa."

 

"Aren't you going to call Ty to help ya?"

 

"Nah, I think he needs time with Camille. I can teach him to cook anytime." He turned and walked into the kitchen. Oggie took in what was said between them. He often had to let things simmer in his brain for a bit. But something was bothering Nick and he knew it. He missed Nicks mom right then. She would have known what to say. He returned to his study to work on the plans for the gallery. He still had interiors and elevations to do. He picked up an pencil and looked at the plans and thought about what Nick had said. A need to be needed. Then he remembered he was needed back in the bedroom. He almost forgot.

 

♂♂♂♂♂

 

"This is heaven out here isn't it Michael?" It wasn't really a question.

 

Michael rolled over on his stomach and looked at Cory. “Ya, it’s really nice out here. But I gotta tell you. I’m ready to go back to civilization. This is nice for a break but I miss my room, my bed, my gaming station. I haven’t even been online in like forever.”


“I don’t miss much of it. I mean sure there are a lot of things I wish we had here like cable and high speed internet. But look at what we have here that we’ll lose when we go back. Like being naked whenever we want, our own lake to go skinny dipping in whenever we want. Horseback riding, and the stars! Have you ever seen so many as they have here? I mean people who live in the country are star hogs.”

 

Michael leaned in and stole a smooch laughing. “My little blond.”

 

“Hey! My hair is brown!”

 

“Ya but your brain is blond.”

 

“Hey!” He said rolling over on top of him. “If I were blond could I do this?” He whispered rolling his hard package against his.

 

“Uhm, ya I think you could.”

 

“Shut up then and I might continue.”

 

“Oh, like you could stop.”

 

“I could . . . I just don’t want to.” He kissed him into silence as the two writhed in guttural silence on the beach of their own little lagoon.

 

 

♂♂♂♂♂


“Robert Boxer, please stand and face the court. You have plead guilty of 33 counts of abuse against a minor. And to compound these crimes you did it while engaged as a Correctional Officer. This abuse is the worst kind because your victims had no means for escape from it. It is by the very definition a heinous crime. It is this courts sentence that you will serve 10 years in the federal correctional system for each count.” Boxer grinned, he would be out in 8 years on the outside. Then the judge finished, “These terms will run consecutively with no possibility for parole or early release. You will also be registered in the state and federal sex offender’s database for life.”

 

Boxer’s jaw dropped. That’s 330 years! He exploded, “For fucking street trash? What the fuck!” He looked at his lawyer and punched him. “You said a maximum of ten years you piece of shit. You were in on it with them!”

 

The judges gavel slammed, “Bailiff restrain him!” But it was unnecessary as they had him on the ground and in handcuffs before he finished his words. They stood him up but kept a hand on him as the defense lawyer got to his feet again. The judge looked at the attorney, “Are you alright Mr Waneright? Do you need medical help?”

 

“No your honor. I’m alright. Thank you.”

 

“Then let us finish this matter.”

 

“There’s more?” Boxer blurted out incredulously.

 

The judge smiled, “You violated your code of conduct Mr. Boxer. And for that reason I am stripping you of any rights and privileges of retirement and ordering those funds previously due to you to be added to the victim’s restitution fund. Your personal assets will be seized to make restitution to the victims in the amount of 75,000 dollars per victim. The Department of Corrections will be ordered to contract therapists to see if we can help those you have further damaged. This matter is now closed.” He struck his gavel and Boxer screamed, “I’ll appeal this! You can’t do this.” His lawyer stood, “No, you won’t. That was part of the plea agreement you freely signed. You waived any rights to appeal.”

 

Boxer tried breaking away from the guards and lunging towards the attorney but was restrained. “I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch, I’ll kill you both!” And his ranting could be heard as they drug him down the hall to his holding cell. The prosecutor walked over and stuck out his hand, “You ok?”

 

He shook the proffered hand, “Ya, thanks. The guy’s just scary. I hate losing, but this one won’t make me second guess the way I handled it.”

 

“Hey, we had a solid case backed by video. You got him the best deal that was offered. Justice was served. Put it behind you and move on to the next. This guy’s off the streets for life.”

 

“Ya want to grab a beer?”

 

“Well I have a press conference but then I’m free.”

 

Waneright smiled, “Glory hound!” He said in a teasing tone.

 

“You bet! Hey, I have an election next year. Gotta show’en I’m doing my job.”

 

“I’ll be over at O’Malley’s when you’re done basking.”

 

“I’ll see ya there.”

 

♂♂♂♂♂

 

 

“Ok Ty, first we have for right now, two different types of charcoal. We are working with shades of black and white only. Since you do pencil drawings then you are used to thinking in that perspective. First we have what we call willow. It’s very soft and easy to shade with. And here we have compressed charcoal. It makes things very dark and is used for harder lines. Or darker shading. You can use the edge or the side. Then you can smudge it or use an eraser to lighten it. You can also scrape it into a powder and use a towel to smooth a background. So just play with it a little bit and get to know it. See how it works.

 

“We can look at some pictures of charcoal so you can see ways it can be used.”

 

“It’s pretty messy. It gets all over your fingers. How do you keep from getting it all over the paper?”

 

“Well ideally your hand won’t be laying on the paper but you can always rest your hand on another piece of paper. There are also charcoal pencils for doing details. But for now just get a feel for it and see if you like the way it works for you. Remember that you are allowed to not prefer one medium over another. When we are done with this we’ll try pastels. It’s the same thing but in colors. The techniques we will try are the same for the most part.”

 

“I’ll try Mr Jean-Claude, but I don’t think I’m gonna like this. It’s too messy.”

 

“That is alright. This is just to let you see what is available and to let you see different types of media. You won’t know what you like or don’t if you don’t get to know it a little bit. You can mix mediums too. You might be doing something with pencils and think, you know what this needs is some dark clouds up here. And you’ll remember that charcoal made really great clouds. It’s about learning what’s available to you. Having more available to you makes you able to dream different kinds of art. You may never use it again or you may develop your own technique that you will fall in love with. There is no right or wrong, it’s just learning. So I’m going to leave you too it for a while. Paper is there and more charcoal is here. Have fun!”

 

♂♂♂♂♂

 

“Hi Karen. I didn’t expect to hear from you so quickly, I mean you just left yesterday.”

“I know Oggie but I just had to tell you. Mr. Van Gordon’s tumor was benign and operable. His wife says he is back to his normal loving self and is feeling really miserable about his actions. He said it was like he was outside himself watching but couldn’t stop what was happening. He is really embarrassed. He has written letters to the officers he was arrested by and he has asked if he could meet with you when he is up again. The doctors think it will be a few weeks yet.”

 

“That’s great news. I’m glad to hear it. I felt bad but he just left me no choices.”

 

“Ya, he actually praised your restraint. He wanted to stop himself but just couldn’t. Can you let Cory know his dad is all better and loves him? He’s ok with him being gay. He really is.”

 

“Well I can but don’t you think that this is something his dad should tell him?”

 

“He intends to, but he doesn’t want him afraid to meet with him.”

 

“I understand, sure, I’ll have a talk with him.”

 

“Thanks Oggie.”

 

“No problem Karen, I’m so glad to hear he is doing better.”

 

♂♂♂♂♂

 

“Alright Boxer time to transport.”

 

“Right, I won’t last a week in there you know it.”

 

“You fucked up Box, you know that. What do you expect me to do? Orders are orders and I’m not in any hurry to join you there, put these on.”

 

“Shackles? Really? You know me.”

 

“Not anymore. You know regs. You can put’em on or I can, your choice.”

 

“Alright, alright.” Boxer picked up the shackles and put them on his ankles and then the two on his wrists. He was then lead out to the transport. The bus had blackened windows and seats for about sixty but there seemed to be only about 30. There was a cage barrier between the driver and the passengers.

 

As they approached the bus an officer approached them, “I’ll get him secured Pat.”

 

“No contact Phil, you know that.”

 

“Hey, I worked with the guy. Let me make this part easier alright?” Pat looked uneasy but in the end gave in.

 

“Just don’t give him anything. You hear?”

 

“I know the rules. Just gonna give him my card, its not forbidden you know?”

 

“Right, But I’ll be checking him over, you got my meaning?”

 

“Ya, I got it. No worries. You’re expected to do your job, I understand.”

 

He escorted Boxer inside the bus. “Phil you gotta get me out of here, you KNOW I’m not gonna last a week inside.”

 

Phil gave him a hard look, “You fucked up Bob. If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime. But look, If you have any trouble give me a call. I’ll see what I can do.” He eyed Boxer knowingly and put his card in his hand. Boxer felt something taped to the card’s back. Phil locked his shackles to the ring in the floor. Boxer turned around and looked at the other transports seated around him. They all smiled and stared at him. He shrunk into his seat and waited for them to get underway.

 

Pat walked in and looked at each transports shackles and paused at Boxer’s seat. He looked at the shackles and the ring on the floor. He wasn’t going anywhere. He checked all the others before going up front and closing the cage between them taking his seat behind the wheel.

 

They got underway. “So Boxer has short eyes. They was gonna love you without dat der. I won’t give you 24 hours in Fresno. They’d kill you just for being a pig, but a pig with short eyes, you’ll be lucky to make it into your cell.” A voice from the seat behind him. He spoke louder, “Hey boys, we gots us a pig with short eyes. I spect they gonna let everyone have a piece of him before they shove a shiv in his eye.”

 

“Yum sounds tasty. I bet I get a little pork before he’s carried out on the flat board.” Another voice chimed in.

 

Boxer exploded, “You were punks before and you’re punks now. Bring your shit and we’ll see who’s on the flat board being carried out.”

 

They laughed at his bravado, “You ain’t one of them now Boxer, you’re one of us. You’re gonna find up there that they won’t think nothin’ of what we gonna do to you. In fact I know a couple who will like to join in.” He cackled and Boxer knew he was right. He got quiet and flipped the business card over and saw the handcuff key taped to the back with a message that read, “Be ready, second bridge.” He took the key off and undid his hand cuffs and leaned forward and pulled on the shackles like he was testing the ring. He undid them both and hung onto the cuffs as if he was still shackled and waited.

 

“No sense pulling on that ring box, it goes through the frame and is welded in place, you ain’t going no where. Well no where standin’ up anyways.” He cackled again and the others laughed outright.

 

Boxer smiled, “I’m willing to bet you go out feet first before me.” He grinned looking back over his seat.

 

“Ya well you ain’t met Bennie yet. You forget Boxer, I know where we’re headed. I just came in for court. Bennie, well Bennie is hung like a fucking mule. He’s gonna love showing you what it felt like to be your little bitch. He’s gonna rip you open so bad you’ll be in G wing for weeks while those stitches heal up in your ass hole.” He looked up front at an inmate who was obviously new, “That boy up front should be happy you’re with us Box, You know why?” Boxer stayed quiet. “Cuz Bennie, he’s gonna have so much fun with you that the newbie will slide right through without any initiation. Yes, sir. Bennie is so big you’ll be happy for the others to fuck you just as long as you don’t have to face that fucking Arm of his going up yer ass Box. And Box, since it was a Mexican kid you liked to fuck, Bennie will probably arrange for a few of them to shove it up your coolou, you know what I mean? Like Bennie is black and there ain’t no love lost between the blacks and spics but when there is a pig in between, all territory is gone. How you gonna like that Boxer? About 30 or so Mexican dicks being shoved up your ass every night? It might just keep you alive for a while. Just so they can fuck you every night Boxer.”

 

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up?” He turned around and glared at him, “Or I can promise you, you won’t make it to the pen again.”

 

The guy cackled again smiling ear to ear, “What’s the matter Box? Getting a little nervous?” Boxer felt them crest a mountain as they drove through the grapevine, they were passing another vehicle and Boxer spun around covering the guys mouth with his hand as he punched him in the throat. He spun back around in his seat as if nothing had happened. The driver was still paying attention to the road. Silence was coming from the seat behind him, Boxer knew he would say no more. He grinned. He looked around and everyone else was looking away and silent. Nobody wanted to be next.

 

The bus continued on for another 20 minutes before a black and white came rushing up from behind lights and siren blaring as Boxer watched through a scratch in the paint on his blacked out window. The bus slowed and allowed the car to pass and to take station in front of the bus. As it did the bus driver could see a convict in the back seat in an orange jump suit. He pulled over to the side of the road and came to a stop. He watched as the officer got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side of the black and white and opened the back door bringing out the convict in shackles and walked him slowly to the door of the bus. The driver opened it, “Got one more for ya. He’s in PS (protective segregation).

 

The driver recognized Phil and it raised red flags in his mind, “This is highly irregular, you know we aren’t supposed to stop once we leave the yard.”

 

“Ya but this guy is high profile, they didn’t want to bring him out in public and didn’t want to keep him in holding.”

 

“Why didn’t they notify me before I left? I really need to call this in.”

 

Phil drew his weapon and pointed it at the driver, “Jesus Pat you talk too much!” He fired and the driver fell back against the seat, the shackled convict turned to the officer who unlocked his cuffs part of the restraints and took the key and squatted and undid his shackles before unzipping his jump suit and stepped out of them. He had on jeans and a t-shirt. He quickly got the keys off the driver’s body and opened the cage. Boxer stood up smiling. Phil had gone back to the car and got a gym bag out of the back and returned to the bus. He walked in and without hesitation started shooting the prisoners. He tossed the bag to Boxer who opened it and stripped out of his jump suit and put on the t-shirt and jeans. He pulled the 1911 and two magazines out slid the slide back and noticed a round in the chamber. He smiled, “hey, save some for me!” And he turned around and started shooting prisoners. As he shot the last one he asked, “What’s the plan?”

 

“The hunting club cabin, it’s all arranged.”

 

“Who’s the new guy?”

 

“Ramirez, Hector brought him onboard.” The officer looked at Boxer and switched his eyes right and then back to Boxer. “He’s gonna drive you up there. We have a car in the rest area ahead. I’m gonna head back before I’m missed and he’ll take you the rest of the way.” He stuck out his hand to Boxer, “Good luck.” The officer left the bus and got into his car and drove off as Ramirez got in the driver’s seat and closed the bus door and drove down to the rest stop across the bridge. He pulled in around the back, in the truck and bus parking, and stopped. He and Boxer got out and walked through the rest stop to the other side where a SUV waited and Ramirez pulled a key fob out of his pocket and unlocked the doors.

 

“Get in,” he said, and Boxer obliged. “We need to put some distance between us and that bus.” He started the SUV and backed out of the space and started down the road. “Ok, here’s the deal, they’re gonna be looking for you to either try for Canada or Mexico. So they’re gonna be watching both borders. This is Tuesday. On Sunday, Porter is going to moor his boat in a slip in San Louis Obispo. He’ll be in The Whale’s Tale restaurant at noon. So all you have to do is to stay hidden in the cabin until then. By that time the searches should be well away from here and nobody will figure you’d leave by boat. At the cabin we have everything you’ll need for a new life in the Baha.”

 

“Thanks, why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.

 

“Hey, just because I’m the new guy doesn’t mean I’m not part of the group, ya know? Besides, there’s an envelope for me at the cabin too.” He smiled.

 

Boxer stuck out his hand, “Thanks.”

 

“No Prob. I got your back man.” He pulled off the highway and started up the back road towards the cabin. Ramirez was watching his mirror as much as the road ahead.

 

♂♂♂♂♂

 

“Sir, I think we have a problem.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“The transport sir. It hasn’t checked in and the GPS reports it stationary at the rest stop south of San Louis Obispo.”

 

“A rest stop? He wouldn’t stop for anything. Send Air one and roll all units within 10 miles. There were 31 prisoners on that transport.”

 

“Air One has already been diverted sir, ETA is about 20 minutes.”

 

“Shit, see if the sheriff is in the air and have them roll too. Notify SWAT we have a situation and put them on standby. I have a bad feeling about this.”

Sorry it's been so long. I'll try and do better.
I love my foster son, and I know if he needs me he'll know I'm here for him. He has a great life ahead of him.
Copyright © 2015 ricky; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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