Page 11 of Tex's Angel

I nod enthusiastically. “You ain’t joking about that, son.”

Our conversation kind of trails off because we spend most of our time forking food into our mouths and chewing. I decide to cut my boy some slack and talk to him about skipping school in the morning. Why spoil this nice thing that landed in our lap tonight. We end the day on a good note when Levi wanders upstairs, and I carefully clean up our neighbor’s dishes and set them aside to return tomorrow or the next time I see her.

***

I go up to my bedroom to take a shower because I’m all sweaty from working on her vehicle. Once I’m in the shower, with the water running over my sore muscles, all I can think of his Clara with her fiery red hair, her plump pink lips, and the tiny smattering of freckles across nose. I like the way she jokes around with me, that woman can give as good as she can take. I’d never paid her much notice before, firstly because she was a married woman, then secondly because she was a recently separated woman. Also I don’t know why, but I’d always thought she was much younger than me. Okay, ten years is ten years, but once you’re an adult, age is just a number. My hand is on my cock stroking away as my mind fills with images of her curvy body and her plump ass, and the way her breasts jiggle when she walks, especially when she walks away angry like she did that night her car alarm kept going off. Dammit, that night eventhough I was pissed, I couldn’t help but see the way her hard nipples showed through the thin fabric of her pajamas.

As I get close to coming, I feel guilty for stroking my cock to her curves. Even if she’s not technically off limits, I can tell she doesn’t even like me, not really. I’m just another dirty old man, doing what dirty old men do. The difference between me and them is I’ll never touch her. I know that I’m all wrong for her.

A stray thought moves forward from the dark recesses of my mind. What if she wanted me, maybe just for the experience of being with an older man? Her husband was her age, and he was an asshole, maybe she needs someone who can take care of her properly? My mind runs away with images of her coming to me, all sweet and innocent, asking to share my bed because she’s scared. I stroke away with one hand, soaping up my cock as I grip just below the head. Fuck, I’m so close to coming just thinking about her. Would she want to put her soft hands on me, stroke me, suck my cock. The look on her face when I said that things were bigger in Texas, fills my mind. She was flirting, right? Oh fuck, the thought that this pretty young thing would want someone like me, has my cock throbbing like no one’s business. Just the thought of her wanting to put her mouth on me makes me come like the thunder. I come so hard that it takes me a minute to catch my breath. And just like that, I become the very thing I despise most in life, a dirty old man perving on a young woman.

Disgusted with myself, I rinse both myself and the shower off before getting out and slipping on my pajama pants. I walk to my bed and sit on the edge, wondering how I ended up like this. Maybe my club brothers are right, I need to have some one-on-one time with a club girl before I’m totally corrupted with thoughts of my neighbor.

I close my eyes and just before darkness claims me, I already know my dreams are gonna be filled with sadness and never-ending grief. Memories of nursing my sick wife haunts my dream world. She survived less than seven months after getting diagnosed with ovarian cancer. By the time we discovered it, the disease has spread and metastasized throughout her body. She went from barely sick to extremely sick inside of five months. We tried everything, but nothing worked. The last couple of months she fought hard and lingered. I know it was because she didn’t want to leave us.

I must have fallen asleep, because halfway through a dream I hear something that sounds like a banshee wailing. My eyes pop open and I instinctively know it’s my neighbor’s vehicle.

I bolt upright out of a dead sleep. Goddamn it to hell! Just one night’s sleep, that’s all I fucking ask for.

I slide my feet into my slippers and stalk downstairs. Glancing out the window I see Clara standing at her door, with the key fob in her hand. She presses the button, and the annoying sound stops.

I open my front door, all thoughts of playing nicely gone from my head and snarl, “I should have disconnected your damn security alarm. That’s what I should have done. Did y’all find the second key fob?”

She nods, looking dispirited. “Yeah, it’s tucked away in my safe. Someone must be putting their hands on my vehicle to trigger the alarm.

I reach down and snag the flashlight out of her hand and turn towards her vehicle. “I’m gonna track these fuckers downonce and for all. Then I’m gonna deal with them one after another until there’s only blissful silence reigning supreme in this neighborhood.”

“Sounds good to me,” she responds as she steps out to search with me.

I should have told her to stand back but for some reason, I wanted her with me. “Stay behind me and keep up,” I say in an irritated tone.

She does exactly as I ask, falling into line behind me, close enough to be my shadow.

I creep around her vehicle, shining the light under the car, behind it and off into the bushes to the left and right. I hear some laughter in the distance and start moving forward, seeking it out.

“It’s the neighborhood kids. I’m sure of it,” Clara whispers.

“Quiet,” I hiss. The goal is to sneak up on them so we can catch them by surprise.

We move forward and find them hanging out in the street in front of a house with all the lights off. One of the teens has a car parked on the street with all the doors open and music playing. The trunk is open and they’re drinking beer from a cooler filled with ice.

I catch them unawares. “Freeze. I want to have a word with y’all.”

One wearing jeans and a t-shirt sporting an alien, shoots back, “Calm the fuck down cowboy. We don’t have anything to say to you, so scoot on back home.”

I walk up, slap the bottle of beer from his hand as he was bringing it to his lips. “I’m with the police, so yeah, y’all are gonna talk to me alright.”

The teen looks way older than my son. He steps back and a look of disgust settles onto his face. “What does with the police even mean? Are you the receptionist?”

His friends all started laughing. I just start shooting questions at them. “Have y’all been setting off car alarms tonight? Or over the last few weeks? Do y’all live in this neighborhood?”

The ringleader replies, “No, no, and yes. Now get the hell out of our faces before I call my dad.”

“Call him. Tell him to meet y’all at the police station,” I say, getting tired of their attitude.

“What the fuck crawled up your ass and died, old man?”

“Nothing. I’m fucking tired of getting woken up by a car alarm every fucking night.”

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