Chapter 22

Jackson

Twelve years is a long time to be a ghost.

And it made its mark on me. I am not the man I was twelve years ago. I’m not the man who left Faith.

A million times I wanted to go back, but I couldn’t. Not until it was safe. One wrong move, one fuck up, and I would be putting her life in danger—and the boy’s. That was a risk I couldn’t take.

That meant taking out all twelve Lobos, one at a time.

Twelve years.

I’d never intended it to take so long, but once I started, there was no way to back out. If they got even a hint of what was going on, if they suspected for a second that the killings had anything to do with Faith, they’d track her down and kill her.

I knew how it had to be. I couldn’t come back, I couldn’t contact her, I couldn’t even contact the Brotherhood, until I’d fulfilled my part of the bargain.

And so, I spent twelve years killing twelve men.

I didn’t leave a single thing to chance. I didn’t go within a million miles of home until every last one of them was dead. Some of them were easy to get, some were difficult. But I got them all.

It cost me.

It cost me dearly.

It cost me the better part of my son’s childhood.

But it was finally time to return.

I was on a Greyhound bus from Galveston to Los Angeles. I couldn’t believe I was actually on my way back after all this time. How would she react? Would she even want to see me?

I was numb, a shadow of the man I’d been. Killing takes its toll, it gets under your skin. There comes a point when you’re not even sure there’s anything left of the man you were. I’d been shot, stabbed, scarred, tortured. I was hardly recognizable. But I was finally done. All twelve Lobos were dead.

It was time for me to return to my woman and my son.

Galveston to LA’s a long ride covering the length of the Mexican border. I was following the trail of the old Pony Express, which might be interesting to a historian, but to me, nothing was interesting except getting home to Faith.

I wasn’t the man you remember. I wasn’t the man who rode out from the safe house. That man was killed a thousand times over. Every time I killed another Lobo, another part of me died.

I wondered if Faith would recognize me. I was twenty-six when she knew me. At thirty-eight I was a hardened veteran, battered and bruised. Faith would be thirty-two. She’d been twenty when I knew her. Everything that happened between us was a lifetime ago. Maybe I was fooling myself, thinking I could go back after so long.

The Jackal, a Mexican drug runner with a scar across his face four inches long, was my last target. He was the last Lobo I had to kill, the final member of Wolf’s inner circle who’d ever known anything about Faith. Now he was dead, and there was no one left to threaten the people I loved.

I’d spent twelve years trying to forget the feeling I got from Faith, trying to get the pain of her memory out of my mind, but I could never do it.

Being without Faith, knowing she was out there and that I couldn’t go to her, it was a constant torture. I tried to dampen that pain in any way I could. Violence, alcohol, adrenaline, I tried everything.

The only thing I didn’t try was sex.

I was tempted. Sure I was. Many times. I even made a habit of going to strip clubs and watching the girls dance. But I never fucked them. I didn’t fuck a single woman. Not in all that time. I didn’t even let them touch me. From the moment I laid a finger on Faith, I hadn’t been with another woman.

What kept me going was the memory of Faith. I thought about her constantly. I fantasized about her. Sometimes I’d flirt with other women, but only because they reminded me of Faith.

I used them to trigger my own memories, to bring to life the images I held in my mind of Faith. But I never crossed the line. Not once. I remained loyal. And that was the only thing that gave me the courage to go back and find her now.

Maybe she’d hate me, maybe she’d spit in my face when she saw me, but at least I knew I’d been true to her. I’d done what needed to be done, I’d kept my promise, and now I was back to take what was mine.

Some men live for glory. Others live for gold.

Me? I lived for the memory of Faith Shepherd. The images I’d formed in my mind of her during those few days we spent together were my obsession. They were my drug, my passion, and god knows, they would be the death of me.

I found a seat near the back of the bus. I had it to myself, but across the aisle was a woman in a provocative black dress. If I had to guess, I’d say she was a hooker. She was alone, sitting quietly, her nose buried in a book. My habit was to find something that reminded me of Faith, some hint of the woman I’d lost, in every woman I came across.

This woman had Faith’s lips.

She noticed me. She looked when I threw my pack on the luggage rack, checked me out. Even after all I’d been through, the injuries and scars, the years of neglect, women were still drawn to me. If anything, they flocked to me even more now than when I was younger. They could tell I was a real man, a man who meant it. They knew I’d fuck like I meant it too. And they could sense my loneliness.

“Is this bus going all the way to California?” she said.

I nodded. I wasn’t interested in talking but she kept going anyway.

“Is that where you’re headed?”

I looked up and smiled.

“You ain’t ever seen a man as homesick as me,” I said.

She smiled back and then looked away as if she was busy. She wasn’t busy. She had the same long bus ride ahead of her I had. She was bored, and I knew already she was going to look to me for some entertainment. The bus pulled out of the station and hit the highway.

I looked across at her, at the lips that were like Faith’s. It was a strange habit, seeing Faith in the features of other women, but when you’ve been separated from your love as long as I had, you resort to anything. I’d have preferred if she was a little older, closer to Faith’s age. Age brings confidence, and confidence is everything.

I knew I should look away but my eye kept wandering back to her lips.

My heart yearned for company. It was so long since I’d known intimacy that I sought it everywhere, in all the small interactions of life.

I didn’t say a word to this woman. It would only bring trouble.

She looked at me and caught me staring at her lips. It wasn’t her I was thinking about, it was Faith, but she took it as a signal.

“This is a good book,” she said.

I nodded.

“I wish I read more, but I only seem to have time on buses.”

Ashamed as I am to admit it, I was horny. I can’t deny it. My dick was rigid as a piece of wood. But I belonged to Faith, I’d promised her that, and there was no way I’d break that promise.

“Listen,” I said, “I’m returning from a very long trip.”

“I get it. You’re tired.”

“I’m bone tired.”

“I was just wondering,” she said, “if you have anything to drink. Something to help the time pass.”

I shook my head and, disappointed, she looked back to her book.

I thought she’d leave me alone then, but she spoke up again.

“What were you doing on your trip?”

I looked at her. I had nothing against her, but I knew she wasn’t going to leave me alone. She was one of those girls who thought she knew exactly what men wanted. She thought she could flirt with me a little and I’d show her what a guy like me was like. She might be right some of the time, but she was wrong about me.

I decided to get rid of her.

“I was doing very bad things,” I said. “Things I’ll never be able to take back.”

“What sort of bad things?”

I didn’t want to play games with her. She was hot, but I wanted her to leave me alone. I’d be seeing Faith soon. This girl could find her own man.

“Hurting people,” I said.

I pictured Faith. It had been so long. I wondered how many tears I’d caused her to shed, how much pain I’d forced her to feel. I wondered if she’d found another man yet. I prayed she hadn’t. I’d been in touch with the Brotherhood but very infrequently. I didn’t want them to get involved in what I was doing. Grant had kept me appraised of the barest details of Faith’s life but I knew very little.

Twelve years was such a long time.

The woman spoke again. “Is that where you got all those scars?” she said.

“Look, you really don’t want to be talking to a guy like me.”

“A guy like you?”

“I’m bad news.”

“You don’t look like bad news to me,” she said.

God, she was pissing me off. She wanted to flirt. I wanted her to fuck off.

I looked into her eyes. “I’m as bad as they come,” I said.

“In what way?”

I thought about it. I thought about all the things I could tell her, the men I’d killed, the ways I’d killed them, the look on their faces when they knew they were going to die, but she wasn’t interested in any of that. All she was interested in was getting a thrill, flirting, having a story to tell her friends when she got home.

I decided to fuck with her.

“You really want to know?” I said.

She nodded.

“Because you seem like a nice girl,” I said. “And we’re on a public bus. I don’t want to say anything that might shock you.”

I could tell she was getting excited.

“Mister, I’m sure I’m not as innocent as you’re imagining.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it is.”

I looked at her for a minute, weighing her up. I should have just gotten up and left, but I guess my dick was doing the thinking for me because I said, “All right, I’ll tell you why I’m bad news.”

“The suspense is killing me.”

“It’s because I’m real good at orgasms,” I said.

She threw her hand in front of her mouth to stifle a laugh. “You’re kidding me.”

I shrugged. “I’m being straight up, sweetheart.”

“You’re good at orgasms?”

“No. I’m real good at orgasms.”

She looked away from me, out the window. She was blushing. I felt my cock pulse. It was time for me to leave. I couldn’t let it go too far. I’d been playing with women for years. I was like a magnet.

Dancers, strippers, random chicks, all of them were drawn to me. They’d sidle up to me and practically beg me to take them home. I never once succumbed to the temptation. Twelve years and I’d kept my record clean. I’d been true to Faith. And I would be seeing her so soon I could almost taste her.

I wasn’t going to fuck up now with this slut. One final thing and I’d be on my way.

“You mind if I take a seat?” I said, indicating the spot next to her.

She looked around. There were only two other passengers on the bus and both of them were toward the front. She took a deep breath. “Sure.”

I sat next to her but gave her lots of space. I didn’t want to crowd her. I flexed the muscles in my chest and arms to give her a hint at what was under my shirt, but I gave her room.

“You’re good at giving orgasms or having them?” she said.

She was bold. I’d give her that. “What do you think?”

She looked at me, sizing me up. “Could be either.”

“I’ll tell you what,” I said. “You tell me which you’d rather see, and I’ll show you something you’ll never forget.”

Her cheeks turned pink. She was embarrassed. Her eyes were wet. I was fully aware of the power I had over her. She was fooling around, flirting. She wasn’t doing anything that bad, but she still pissed me off. I might not look it, but I was taken. She should have left me alone when I’d told her to. I’d make sure she remembered this encounter for the rest of her life.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Come on, don’t be such a chicken.”

“You want to do something right here, on this bus?” she said.

She was playing coy. I knew she was a slut. She’d have done anything I suggested.

“If you want me to leave you alone, I can go back to my seat,” I said. I knew what she’d say, but giving her an out was part of the game.

“You can stay.”

“I’ll tell you why I’m sitting next to you,” I said, my voice low. “I’m going to be honest, because you seem like an innocent girl.”

She was anything but innocent.

“I’m not that innocent,” she said.

“You ever had sex in a public place?”

She hesitated before shaking her head.

I sighed. “I really should let you go. This isn’t fair.”

My cock was hard. She was looking at me with her innocent brown eyes like she’d let me do anything I wanted.

“Stay,” she said again.

“I shouldn’t. I’m just horny because I haven’t blown my load in a long time.”

She looked a little scared but her words were firm. “I don’t want you to leave. I want you to show me what you were going to show me.”

“After it’s done, we’ll never see each other again.”

She thought about that for a minute. Then she said, “I don’t care.”

“You might tomorrow.”

She shook her head. “I won’t. Teach me something. Where I come from, the men are so timid. Show me something different, something real.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure,” she said, nodding.

I looked at her body. She was all woman. I looked down at my crotch. Her eyes followed mine to the raging bulge inside my jeans. She gasped.

I nodded. “Imagine what lies beneath.”

“Okay.”

“You want to touch it?”

She didn’t answer, but her eyes told me she wanted it. She wanted to open my belt and the button on my jeans. She wanted to put her hand inside and grab the girth of my shaft.

“I know you want to,” I said.

“Is it big?”

I shrugged. “I’ve been told it is, but how would I know?”

“I think it’s really big,” she said. “I can tell from the bulge in your pants.”

“You’re not exactly an expert,” I said with a smirk.

She looked at me. She wanted to kiss but I didn’t lean in. I didn’t want her to kiss me. I didn’t want her lips anywhere near me. I was toying with her, playing a game. There was no way in hell this chick was going to ever see my cock.

Her eyes were locked on the throbbing bulge in my pants. I knew she wanted to look inside. She was dying to see it. She was dying to pull it out and wrap her pink lips around it.

“I promise you, you’ve never seen anything this big before,” I said.

“I’ll bet.”

“You want to stroke it for me?”

“I want to make it come.”

“You sure?”

“Can I?”

I smiled.

“Spit on your hand,” I said.

She wet her hand with saliva. She was ready for me. I knew what she wanted. She wanted to rub that spit over the purple, throbbing head of my cock. She was trembling with anticipation, practically vibrating with lust for me. I leaned back in my seat and sighed. I looked down at my own lap, my penis still safe inside my pants.

“I’ve got to go,” I said.

“What?” she said. “No.”

“I’ve got to get off this bus.”

“Why? Please stay. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“That’s the problem, sweetie,” I said. “I know you will.”

“I’ll go all the way.”

“You’d make me come, wouldn’t you?”

“I swear I would.”

My heart wouldn’t allow it. All my heart could think of was Faith. She was my soulmate. She was the only woman to know the taste of my cock.

I grabbed my pack from the luggage rack, walked up to the driver and told him to stop the bus.

“We can’t stop here. We’re on the highway.”

“This is an emergency,” I said, showing him the handle of the gun under my shirt.

He jammed on the brakes.

The woman called to me from her seat. “What did I do?” she said. “Please, don’t get off now.”

The bus came to a halt and I jumped to the ground. That was too close. I was getting desperate. It had been so long since I’d tasted Faith’s pussy. So long since I’d laid my claim on her. If I didn’t get back to her soon, I’d die.

Once off the bus, it pulled away in a cloud of dust. I climbed the guardrail and walked into a stand of trees a few hundred yards from the highway. No one could see me from the road.

I opened the buckle on my pants and pulled out my rigid shaft. It was so hard it was throbbing in agony. I sat on my backpack and began rubbing my hand up and down it, as if it was a piece of wood I was polishing. I felt the first pre-orgasmic throb and Faith’s face flashed before my eyes.

I continued, my hand sliding up and down, over and over. I felt the surge building in my groin, like a river rising against a dam. The rains had started. It wouldn’t be long before the flood.

I thought back to my first time with Faith. The memory of that glorious, mysterious night was always enough to take me over the edge. She hadn’t been shy. She’d known exactly what she wanted from me. That’s the thing about women.

I knew so many men who treated them like they were some sort of delicate flower. The truth is, women know what they want, and if they find a man who will cut through the bullshit and give it to them, they’ll take it. They’ll take it all. And they’ll ask for more.

That’s how it was with Faith. Somehow, she’d known what she wanted the moment she set eyes on me.

My cock was close to exploding. I stroked fast. I looked down at it, bulging in my hand.

And then it started. Fuck me.

“Oh, God,” I gasped.

I clenched my muscles.

The first spurt flew from me like a stream from a hose. It landed on the grass a yard in front of me and slid over the green blades like something from nature. I kept pumping.

Another spurt flew from my cock and landed closer than the first. I kept pumping. The next landed on the ground with less force. Soon, it was just pouring over my hand like lava flowing down the side of a volcano.

“Faith,” I gasped.

The love of my life. Nothing I ever did would recreate the feeling I’d had with her. I’d made her mine. Then I’d lost her.

I’d told her I was bad to the bone. That wasn’t the half of it. The moment she saw me, she should have run. Meeting me was a curse.

I prayed she was still waiting for me.