Asa

 

It will most likely come as no great surprise to you to learn that this was not my first time in jail. My first time was when I was sixteen, and I'd spent a few uncomfortable nights there since. Still, even with my line of employment, the longest I'd spent inside was six months, which wasn’t bad when you thought about it. Unfortunately, this time was looking quite a bit longer, and I couldn't see any obvious way out of it. If Dugas had my Black Book, then I'd be behind bars for years. It wasn’t a prospect I relished.

 

I was sitting on the floor of the cell in the local jail, wishing I had a baseball so I could work on my Steve McQueen impersonation, when I heard a door open down the corridor and the sound of footsteps coming my way.

 

Sheriff Brian Dugas stopped in front of my cell and turned to his deputy.

 

"Step outside for a minute, Crucero."

 

Deputy Crucero gave me a black look but did as he was told.

 

"Good evening, Sheriff." No harm in being polite.

 

"Mr. Covert." Dugas couldn't keep the hatred out of his voice, but I couldn't really blame him. We were on opposite sides of the law, natural enemies, and that was that. I think we both understood that and maybe each grudgingly respected the other. I might not like Brian Dugas, but I knew he wasn't crooked. He might bend the rules, but he never broke them. You couldn't bribe Brian Dugas. By the same token, he might have despised everything I represented, but Dugas knew that I wouldn't hurt women, children, or the elderly. I didn't sell drugs to kids, and I didn't make demands on those who couldn’t afford it.

 

But two nights ago, the dynamic between us changed when he caught me and Corinne coming out of that closet. I was genuinely sorry to see Crucero go because, if he could get away with it, I had a feeling Brian Dugas wouldn't mind stringing me up and claiming I hung myself. I'd had run-ins with a few angry fathers in the past (also boyfriends and husbands), but I'd never had a father walk in just after I've deflowered a girl. I could claim ignorance, but I couldn't see Dugas believing me. My best hope was that he didn't know himself.

 

Dugas spoke. "My daughter seems to have a bit of a thing for you."

 

"It's not going to matter where I'm going, is it?" I pointed out.

 

Dugas pulled a wooden chair from by the wall and sat down. He looked tired. "There's men on death row who get married now. They get hundreds of proposals a week. Something to do with the glamor of the criminal. I can't see it myself, but there it is. And now, thanks to those bleeding-heart human rights lobbyists, they all have to have conjugal visits. You should see the queues of women. When I think that there are murderers and rapists who are having more sex in a week than I've had since my wife left, it makes me wonder why the hell I bother enforcing the law."

 

This was more of a heart to heart than I had expected, and I decided to just let him talk it out.

 

"I don't want my Corinne spending her days hanging around prisons to see you."

 

"She won't." I said it, but I wasn't sure.

 

"She will," said Dugas. "She's a loyal girl. And she's got it bad for you. Plus, she knows how angry it'd make me. She'll be there every visiting day, every ... conjugal day, and she'll be there to meet you when you come out. Stupid kid loves to play with fire. A boyfriend in prison is what she's wanted her whole damn life."

 

"Not much I can do to stop her." I didn't say it as if I was forcing his hand. I just said it.

 

"No." Dugas spat the word. "In fact, it has become obvious to me that, when it comes to Corinne, having you inside is worse for me than having you out. Because when you're inside, you can't run off and leave her."

 

He had been staring at the floor, but now he looked up. "We're both men here, so let's speak plainly. You know I've got you, right? You know you're going down."

 

I nodded slowly.

 

"I'm willing to drop it."

 

My eyes widened as he spoke.

 

"And I'll turn a blind eye to the hooch and to the protection racket, provided the only people you're menacing are other criminals."

 

"If?" I asked.

 

"You stay away from Corinne," said Dugas, and I could hear the earnestness in his voice. "More than that—drive her away. Let her know that she means less than nothing to you. That she was just a ..." he swallowed as he used awkward words to describe his daughter, "just a fuck. Break her heart quick to save her having it broken slow, and ruining her life in the bargain."

 

Of course, unbeknownst to Brian Dugas, he and I were on the same side in this. What he was telling me to do, I had already done and would have continued to do. I didn't want ruin her life either, and that girl was definitely in way over her head with me. He was offering me a deal in which I gave up absolutely nothing. I felt a bit smug and managed not to grin as I nodded.

 

"We'll shake on it," said Dugas. "Like men."

 

We did so.

 

Dugas unlocked my cell. "You're free to go."

 

It was obviously killing him, and I couldn't help admiring the man. He had been after me for years, and now he was giving me up for the sake of his daughter. Everyone knew that Brian Dugas was incorruptible, and here he was, making a deal with a criminal to look the other way, all to keep Corinne safe. The girl didn't know how lucky she was. If I'd had a dad like that then ... well, maybe things would have been different.

 

I walked for the door.

 

"Covert."

 

I turned back.

 

"If you touch her again," said Dugas, his face grave. "It won't be the law that comes for you. It'll be me. You understand?"

 

I nodded.

 

# # #

 

"You what?!" I nearly exploded, thumping the table with my fist.

 

Joseph looked taken aback, frozen, with my Black Book still in his hand. "I stole your book back, Asa. I thought you'd be pleased."

 

Joseph was a relatively new War Cry recruit, but he had risen swiftly. I guess that was largely down to me. I liked the kid, and I trusted him. He was a hothead, an idiot, really. He took too many chances, drove too fast, gambled too much, slept with anything in a skirt, and wanted to do all of that yesterday. In other words, he was just like me at his age. I wanted him to survive to my age, to appreciate what a dumb way to live it was.

 

I took the book and tucked it away in my jacket. "I am, Joseph, I am. Thanks. You risked a lot for me, and I appreciate it."

 

Joseph grinned. "Well, it got you out, didn't it? That makes it worthwhile to me."

 

I nodded my thanks. But inside I was seething. I thought I'd put one over on Brian Dugas, but it turned out that he'd put one over on me. He couldn't have held me since he had no evidence, but he pretended he had for long enough to extract a promise out of me not to go near Corinne. Of course, I'd had no intention of going near Corinne anyway, so, in a way, I was the winner. But it still grated.

 

And of course, there was a very easy way of getting my own back on that devious bastard.

 

But, no. I didn't care about breaking my word—Dugas had already made that promise null and void through his dishonesty anyway. But my resolve towards Corinne remained the same. I didn't want to hurt her. I didn't want her to end up in a life like mine, with a guy like me.

 

"How'd you get hold of this book anyway?" I asked. "The Dugas house is pretty tightly locked up."

 

Joseph shrugged. "Got a bit of help."

 

I stirred in my seat. She couldn't have. Could she?

 

"That little redhead you screwed the night of the fight."

 

"I never screwed her that night," I said defensively.

 

"Fiona says you did."

 

"She's getting mixed up. It was the night after."

 

"It was both!" Fiona called in from the back room.

 

"Doesn't matter." I drew a line under the matter. "Corinne helped you get the book?"

 

"Wouldn't have got it without her."

 

Joseph kept talking, but my mind was elsewhere as a mixture of uncalled for emotions poured into me. I divided women into three groups: want to do them, don't want to do them, done them. And once they were in the third category—xcept in rare cases like Fiona—they ceased to be of interest. But Corinne was firmly in the 'done' group, and yet, I was still thinking about her, and not just about having another go with her. The fact was that this new development indicated that her dad was right. She had a thing for me, and she was willing to break the law to help me. On the one hand, that strongly suggested that I should be doing exactly what Dugas had told me, and what I had planned to do. On the other, the knowledge that she had come through for me like that made me want her even more.

 

And I owed Brian Dugas payback for his little trick.

 

"I should really thank her."

 

Fiona shot a suspicious look at me as she entered carrying a crate of hooch. "When you say thank her ..."

 

"Just say thank you."

 

Joseph hopped up to help Fiona with the crate. "Where do you want it?"

 

Fiona grinned. "When have I heard that question before? Stick it in the back."

 

"When have I heard that answer before?"

 

I stared in some little surprise during this exchange. Fiona and Joseph? The kid really was like me.

 

"He's twenty years younger than you," I hissed as Joseph carried the crate out.

 

"Twenty-two," corrected Fiona. "He reminds me of you, actually."

 

"So, you're trading me in for a younger model?"

 

Fiona shook her head. "You know me, Asa. I'm not looking for anything long-term or serious. You, on the other hand ..."

 

"What?"

 

"Just tread carefully."

 

"She's just some girl."

 

Fiona shook her head. "I'm starting to doubt that."

 

Joseph came back in, and I handed him a piece of paper.

 

"Take this to Corinne."

 

I wasn't sure if Fiona was right or wrong, or if what I was doing was smart or dumb, but I was doing it one way or the other. It occurred to me that maybe there was a way to stay true to the spirit of my agreement with Dugas, while obviously breaking the specific content. Maybe.

 

# # #

 

About half a mile out from the Dugas house was a dry river gully, nothing spectacular, but deep enough to hide a bike. Corinne was there when I arrived, wearing jeans that might have been painted on and a top that plunged between her breasts (which were looking a whole lot bigger today, thanks to some help from enhancing underwear).

 

"I wasn't sure you'd come," she said, as I pulled up.

 

"I sent the note."

 

"I half thought it was my dad setting a trap for me. Why did you ask me? No offense, but last time we spoke, you didn't seem that eager to see me again."

 

"I didn’t likebeing lied to and used as way to annoy your dad and dispose of a virginity that you no longer wanted. I wasn't eager for a relationship. And I'm still not. But you helped me get out of jail, and I'm grateful, and I wanted to say thank you in person." I wasn't sure how much of that was true.

 

She walked over and leaned in to kiss me, but I kept her at arm's length. "You want to go for a ride?"

 

"More than anything in the world."

 

"On the bike," I clarified.

 

Corinne shrugged. "That'd be fun too."

 

"Climb on."

 

Corinne swung up behind me and, to my annoyance, my heart quickened at the feel of her arms winding about me, and her body pressed against my back. Just the smell of her had my libido turning somersaults. I hadn’t reacted like that to a girl since I was going through puberty!

 

"Hold on tight."

 

"You know I do."

 

And we were off, whizzing through the night, dodging shrubs, bouncing over rocks, Corinne clinging tightly to me. I took her on the wildest ride I knew and was rewarded with the sound her breath, short and fast in my ear. The girl had a taste for extremes.

 

After a half hour or so of riding, I pulled up.

 

"Where are we?" Corinne asked.

 

"Listen."

 

Corinne stood still a moment. "Is that water?"

 

"This way." I took a bag out from under the seat of the bike and led the way through the scrubby vegetation and up onto a ledge overlooking a waterfall.

 

Corinne beamed. "I haven't been up here since I was a kid."

 

"It's my favorite place in the world." Why would I tell her something like that? I'd never told anyone that.

 

"I can see why."

 

I opened the bag. "I brought a picnic."

 

Corinne gaped in astonishment. "Asa Covert, the bad-ass president of biker gang War Cry, has made a picnic?"

 

"Fiona helped," I admitted.

 

We sat down to eat and drink under the stars.

 

"I knew there was another side to you," Corinne said, smiling sweetly at me.

 

I began to wonder if this had been a bad idea. But I had already tried it Dugas's way; I had told her she meant nothing to me, and her response had been to put everything on the line to get me out of jail. She liked bad boys, so the worse I treated her, the more attractive I became (I had no idea why some women thought that way, but I did sometimes take advantage.). So, the logical thing was to treat her well and to leave the bad boy behind for a night. It had seemed like a good idea, but so far it did not seem to be paying off.

 

"Why did you help me?" I asked.

 

"You know why." She ran a hand up my thigh, and I brushed it off.

 

"Because you're a silly girl who doesn't know what's good for her from what's bad for her?"

 

"Trust me," said Corinne, emphatically. "I know what's good for me. And the other night was extremely good."

 

"Why do you do that?" I asked.

 

"Do what?"

 

"The sexy bad girl act. Why do you do it? Do you think men like that? Do you think there are girls who actually talk like that? It makes you sound like a bad porn film." I shook my head. "You already told me you were a virgin until the other night. Just because you've lost your virginity doesn't mean you start talking like Mae West."

 

Corinne blushed in embarrassment. It was perhaps the single most honest thing I'd seen her do. Unfortunately, it was also very attractive and I found myself fighting my desire for her.

 

"I thought ... I wanted you to think I was, I don’t know, more like other girls you've been with."

 

"You want to be like all the girls I've screwed and forgotten?"

 

"Well ... maybe not quite like ..."

 

"How about you try being yourself?" I suggested.

 

There was a long pause as Corinne collected her thoughts. "I'm not sure I even know who that is."

 

"Do you want to know what I think?" I grabbed my moment.

 

"I do," said Corinne, shuffling towards me on her knees. "I really do."

 

"I think the prissy little perfect girl who your dad would want you to be, the girl who never does anything wrong and sits at home nights with a book, I think that's who you are. And you're so scared of being her that you've spent your whole damn life trying to be something else."