3 Is a Magic Number Ch. 17

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We all got cleaned up as quick as we could, and Katie drove the two of us to our house. I tried to get Julia to come along with us; but she flatly refused, saying that she had something that she had to do. I must say that I felt a bit betrayed by her refusal. It seemed like it was a really long drive home with possible jail time weighing on my mind. Had I really given that kid enough of a beating to get arrested? The entire event was fuzzy in my mind. All I remember was white hot rage, and then the girls putting themselves between him and me. I knew that going to that fucking party was a bad idea. We pulled into the driveway, and our mom hurried out of the house, and gave me a protective hug. It was a little unexpected.

“Are you OK, Jack? Were you hurt?” My mom pulled away from me, and seemed to be inspecting me for damage.

“I’m fine, mom; really. I skinned my knuckles up. That’s it.” She looked at my hand that was sporting three adhesive bandages, but said nothing. She led the two of us into house, and we sat down in the living room. Now the interrogation would begin.

We explained exactly what happened. It was simple. That Brandon kid had pushed my pregnant sister down, and I defended her. Katie chimed in, telling Julia’s account of how that Brandon kid had slipped something in her friend Sarah’s drink, and raped her. My mom took it all in, and just sat looking at us for a full minute. Then she sighed.

“Jack,” my mom finally said, “Violence is never a good solution to any problem; although I can understand your reaction.

“I’m sorry, mom. I just couldn’t help myself. I saw him shove Katie down, and the next thing I knew, the girls were pulling me off of him. I just kind of blanked out.” She nodded, but her eyes were unfocused, as if she was seeing something in another time.

“That’s just how your father was, Jackson. Times have changed since he was a teenager, though. Maybe we should get you into anger management counseling.” My sister gave me a warning look. She hated psychiatrists, and I could tell by her expression that she didn’t agree with this idea. I was not willing to upset my mother; especially not when she was being this understanding about a major fuck up.

“If that’s what you want, mom. I could try it out. What do I do now?” She pursed her lips, before answering.

“The officer who came by this morning left a card.” She got up, and scurried across the room, like a frightened bird. My mother will always be the same. I knew that she had attached to card to the refrigerator with a magnet. I heard the click of the magnet reattaching to the fridge, and she came out of the kitchen holding a business card. “He told me to give you this, and to have you call this Detective Harris. I guess you should call him, and see what he says.”

I took the card, and pulled my cell phone out of my pocket, and dialed the number. It rang twice, and then was answered by a man with a deep baritone voice.

“Detective Harris…” I had a lump in my throat the size of a golf ball. I almost panicked, and hung up; but, I got my nerves under control.

“Sir, my name is Jackson King. An officer left your number with my mother this morning with directions for me to call you.”

“King, yeah…” his voice trailed off like he was trying to remember exactly why he wanted to talk to me. It was just a second, and then he seemed to remember exactly why he needed me. “Yes, I need to talk to you in connection with an assault that took place last night. Would you be willing to come down to the station, and give a statement?”

“Yes sir, I can do that. When would be a good time for you?” My heart beat loudly in my ears.

“Now would be good for me.” He sounded non-committal, and I didn’t know exactly what to read into that.

“I can be down there within a half an hour.” I lived ten minutes from the Sterling Heights police station.

“OK, Mr. King. I will see you in a half hour.” He disconnected without a goodbye.

My mother insisted on taking me, and I couldn’t have made Katie stay behind, even if I chained her up in the basement. She would do a Houdini, and end up in the back seat of the car before we would get out the front door. I still couldn’t help but wonder what the fuck was so important that Julia couldn’t come along with me. I know that I would have been with her, had our situations been reversed.

The ten-minute drive went by with an unnatural quickness. The police station is a very modern, two story building in the downtown area of Sterling Heights. It is a small city, but it has a well-financed and highly trained police force. We went and talked to the officer at the front desk, who instructed us to sit down and wait while he got a hold of Detective Harris by phone. A few minutes later a heavy steel door opened, and a man in a blue suit called my name. I stood up, feeling like I was carrying an extra one hundred pounds on my back. He was a middle aged man, who would have looked more at home in front of a class teaching izmir escort bayan English than chasing down criminals. My mother and sister accompanied me as he led us down a hall full of offices. He stopped at one with an open door, and ushered us inside. He introduced himself, and I introduced my mother and sister, along with myself.

“Mr. King,” the detective pulled a small voice recorder out of his desk drawer, “I am required by law to inform you that I am recording this conversation, and that anything that you say will be admissible in a court of law. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You have the right to have an attorney present. Would you like to call an attorney, or have us provide one for you?”

“Am I under arrest?” The detective never even blinked at this question.

“No, Mr. King. Not at the present time. I just want you to know your rights.”

“No. I don’t need an attorney.” I looked over at Katie, and I saw the fear in her eyes. Worse than that, I saw that she somehow felt responsible for me being here. I reached over and took her hand in an effort to reassure her.

“Last night we received a report of a disturbance at 2475 Downing Street. The report that was filed by the investigating officers stated that when they arrived at the scene, a young man named Brandon Sims needed medical attention, as he had apparently been involved in a physical altercation. An ambulance was dispatched, and he was transported to St. Stephen’s Hospital. Mr. Sims suffered a broken nose, a crushed cheekbone, a fractured ocular orbital bone, several dislodged teeth, and a detached mandible. According to the doctors, he will require significant facial reconstructive surgery.” The fight lasted maybe five seconds. I couldn’t believe that I could have done that to him in that short amount of time.

All while he was saying this Detective Harris studied my every reaction. He not only studied my reactions, but those of my mother and sister. I decided right then that he was probably very good at his job.

“When questioned by the responding officers Mr. Sims reported that Jackson King was the lone assailant, and that the attack was unexpected, and unprovoked. He said that, ‘I was minding my own business when Jackson King attacked me like a drunken lunatic for no reason. He sucker-punched me, and the next thing I knew I was on the ground being pummeled by him.’ The description that he gave fits your description, Mr. King. The investigating officers got your address from a witness on the scene, and proceeded to your address, where they found that you weren’t at the residence at that time.” He paused, and cleared his throat.

“So…” he paused for the word to have its maximum effect. “This is the information that we have so far. I feel that there is probably a lot more to this story than what Mr. Sims would have us believe. There are usually always two sides to any argument, and I want to get to the bottom of this one. I am going to ask you a series of questions, and I expect the truth from you Mr. King.” He paused with finality, and stared at me until I nodded in agreement.

“Very well,” he said. His tone was all business. It wasn’t like in a movie where the police put you in an interrogation room, and try to sweat a confession out of you. There was no good cop, bad cop routine. I would have probably been less unnerved if it would have been more like the movies. At least I would have that frame of reference. This seemed more like I was in the principal’s office; and that principal could send me to jail.

“Did you attend a party last night at 2475 Downing Street?”

“Yes,” I answered swiftly. “I attended with my sister, and our cousin, Julia Chambers.” Harris nodded.

“Tell me about this party. Tell me in your own words what happened.”

I paused. I really didn’t know where to begin. Should I really tell this cop that I beat the shit out of that Brandon guy? Would it matter to the court that he pushed my pregnant sister down? Would the fact that I loved her more than life itself; that I was just trying to protect her, and our unborn baby matter to the law?

“Well,” I began, with much trepidation. “Before we actually got to the party Julia and I drank some rum. Katie drove us, but she didn’t have any…”

“So,” he cut in, “you and Ms. Chambers had already been drinking when you arrived at the party?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“You are aware that you are underage, and that this is a crime in the State of Michigan?”

“Yes,” I answered again. There wasn’t much point in dodging this part of the events when what happened later was so much worse.

“How much did you drink?” Harris never seemed to be judgmental when he asked something. I guess this made it easier for people to tell him the horrible truth.

“Between the two of us we drank a little more than half a fifth.” He never batted an eye at this admission.

“So, you and Ms. Chambers drank rum; and your sister, who was sober, drove to this party. What time did you…?” Detective Harris was izmir escort interrupted by the ring of his phone. He picked up the receiver, and answered it with one simple word, “Harris.” He listened for a minute. He said, “Are you sure?” He listened. “OK.” He hung up.

He focused his serious gaze on me. I admit that I scared shitless at that moment. What if Brandon had died and they were going to charge me with murder?

“You are free to go Mr. King. I have no more questions. I should give you a citation for being under the influence below legal age, but I’m going to just give you a warning.” I wasn’t even aware that I had been holding my breath until I released it in an extremely audible exhalation. “Don’t drink again until you are twenty-one years old, and drink responsibly. If you ever feel yourself getting out of control, at any time; walk away. If you feel threatened by someone; call the police.” He stood up, and shook my hand. “I don’t expect to see you back in here, Mr. King.”

“No, sir,” I managed to stammer out.

He showed us back to the front desk, and we left the station. We had almost got to my mom’s SUV when Katie’s phone rang. She showed me the screen. It was Julia. I heard her voice, even though her phone wasn’t on speaker.

“Did it work?” There was real fear in her voice.

“Did what work?” my sister asked. We piled in the huge Cadillac, and Katie had a quiet conversation with Julia, and then hung up.

“Well I figured out why you got off so easily back there.” I turned around and looked at my sister’s face in the back seat, and her mouth split into an impossibly wide grin. “It was Julia. She went over to Brandon’s house and confronted him. She said that if he didn’t tell the police that it wasn’t you she was going to go down to the police station and swear out a statement about him; for rape. She said that she would claim that he slipped her a roofie, and raped her. She also said that she would get a lot of other girls to do the same: girls like Sarah.”

I marveled at the deviousness of her plan. If enough girls claimed this, the police would dig around until something stuck. If what Sarah claimed was true, who knew what kind of evidence that she had.

“She said that he didn’t take much convincing, and he called the police with her standing right there.” I heard my phone chime in my pocket, and I pulled it out and checked the text.

Julia: You owe me one, cowboy!

I grinned, and I texted her back.

Me: Thanks, Jules. What do I owe you?

The answer came back faster than I believed possible.

Julia: Anything I want 🙂

Me: You got it, babe.


Unfortunately, any kind of payback for Julia would have to wait, because I was grounded for the next two weeks. I thought that I was getting off almost scott free, considering that I broke that asshole’s entire face. Besides, I still had Katie at home, and Julia could come and visit. I spent most of that evening talking to my dad about what happened, and about responsibly, and about methods that I could use to help control my temper. I even reluctantly agreed to anger management. My dad said that it was only a six hour course over a few days; and that if it were to help me even a tiny bit, it would be well worth the cost.

The next day I did yard work, and then I painted the garage. It was ridiculous to be out working in the ninety plus degree heat, but I figured that after all the bullshit I put everyone through that I would just suffer through it without complaining. I had stripped off my shirt an hour ago, even though I ended up getting speckles of white paint on my chest. The real secret to beating the heat is to drink plenty of water. I sat down on the top of the picnic table behind the garage to take a break, and to drain the rest of my ice water.

“Wow! You look really hot, Jack.” I turned and saw Julia standing there openly admiring my bare torso. She looked pretty damn hot herself. She wore a small pair of soccer shorts, a bikini top, and flip-flops. She smiled when she saw me admiring her brief attire. Her light brown hair had almost gone totally blonde from the summer sun. I wasn’t sure if they were natural highlights or not, but it was a good look for her.

“You look pretty hot yourself, girl.” She smirked crookedly, and drew close and kissed me lightly on the lips. I kissed her briefly, and then I pulled up short. “My mom is home.” Julia laughed a low throaty laugh. It was very sexy, just like the rest of her.

“She is working in her office, plus your sister is keeping watch for me. If your mom walks out of her office, we will get a phone call.” Maybe payback won’t have to wait two weeks after all.

“So, you mentioned that I owe you.” She laughed that laugh again, but her smile went from crooked to full blown grin. She stood against the edge of the picnic table’s seat, her body leaning into mine.

“Yeah, you definitely owe me, but that will be for another time. I just wanted to come by to tell you how much that I love you.” She moved in, and kissed escort izmir me again; this time with much more passion. I felt her hands sliding over my sweaty chest, her fingertips raising goose flesh even in the sweltering heat. My hands grabbed two handfuls of her ass. Only a cheerleader could have an ass that tight. She moaned a bit into my mouth, and I felt her hands slide down my belly, and start to undo the fastener on my shorts. I pulled back from the kiss.

“I’m all sweaty, Jules.” She unzipped the fly, and laughed again.

“They’re called pheromones, dumbass. God, I want you so bad. Raise your ass up off of the table.” I complied eagerly, and soon both jean shorts and boxer briefs were being pulled over my shoes.

She sat down on the bench between my legs, and took my semi-rigid cock in her mouth. I moaned softly as she bobbed her head up and down expertly. She went the exact speed, and to the exact depth that I preferred, and she continuously moved her tongue against the most sensitive part of my shaft; right below the head. I always recognized that she had major head skills, but it never dawned on me how she adjusted her style to exactly what I enjoyed until just that moment. God, I loved this girl! She didn’t even miss a beat when I untied the strings on her bikini top, and it fell to the grass. She spent the next five minutes giving me one of the best blow jobs of my life. I have demonstrated a good amount of sexual endurance in the past, but this sex goddess was literally blowing my mind. She had begun to use one hand in conjunction with her head bobbing, and used the other hand to massage my ever-tightening balls.

She stopped suddenly, and her baby blue eyes locked onto mine.

“Are you ready?” I was puzzled by her question.

“Ready for what, babe? To cum?” She her eyes danced with amusement.

“Yes, but I want you to fuck me. I wanted to blow you so that you wouldn’t take all day.”

“What about you, are you wet enough?” She laughed musically at this question.

“I was wet enough for that when I got here.” She smiled, stood up, and pulled off her soccer shorts revealing her freshly shaved pussy. Her excitement was evident as her wetness glistened in the noon day sunlight. She put both her hands on the table, and bent over; emphasizing the perfect curve of her pert little ass. I needed no urging; I hopped up, and was behind her in a flash. I slid my cock up and down her slit a few times to further lubricate it, and I pushed into her gently. She moaned low in her throat. I was glad that my mom had the windows closed because of the air conditioning.

I grabbed her hips with my hands as I began to fuck her slowly. I knew that Julia is totally a different sexual animal than my sister. Katie usually likes to be dominated, and likes sex to be as rough as I can make it without physically tearing something inside of her. Julia likes sex in all of its forms, but doesn’t necessarily need it to be rough. With her, I just had to play it by ear. She began to push back against me, meeting my strokes. She began to speed up gradually, so I figured that she wanted it hard and dirty. Not brutal, but hard. I began to push the pace a bit more. I was bottoming out with every stroke, and she loved every second of it. I felt her insides tighten, and I knew she was about to cum. She was doing an admirable job of being quiet. The only sound that gave away our sexual congress was the slapping of my pelvis into her ass.

“Oh god, yes, Jack. Right like that.” She said it in a low voice, and then she stiffened with her orgasm. Her pussy clenched around my cock like someone was inside of her flexing their fist. She made low moans, and no longer met my thrusts; she just leaned back into them, and let me pound myself into her over and over.

My orgasm almost came as a surprise. I was in total control, and then the world blurred out, and was replaced by a burning ecstasy that made the noon day sun pale in comparison. I crushed her to my body, and squirted spurt after spurt of my seed into her still climaxing cunt. We stood there, locked together like erotic statues until both of our passions were spent. She sagged beneath me, and I held her up briefly. I twisted, and sat down on the bench seat, and pulled her nubile form into my lap. We both breathed heavily, and neither of us said anything for a few long minutes. We were content to just be close to each other, and to bask in the afterglow.

“You scare me, Jack.” Julia said this quietly, since her head rested against my shoulder, her lips were close to my ear.

“Why do I scare you Jules?” She stirred a bit, and I felt my still-warm semen leaking from her snatch, and onto my thigh. Her lips grazed my ear with a playful kiss. I was very curious about her answer.

“You scare me,” she whispered, “because you are the only man that I’ve ever fallen in love with.” She laughed a little. “I didn’t even mean to fall in love with you. I just woke up one morning, and realized that it was a fact.”

“I can’t picture you being afraid of anything, Jules. You always seem so sure of everything that you do. I didn’t think that you had any room for fear with all of your self-confidence.” She giggled a little, and nibbled my ear again. It felt really good.

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