Chapter 2

Strong and Sturdy

I couldn’t help but smirk as Applejack clung to me for dear life. The knowing that she was currently dependant upon me was exhilarating. It awoke a primal dominance in me. This woman would drive me wild, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. She was prey, and I was hungry.

Unfortunately that feeling had to end when we arrived at the mall, because we had to get off the bike. She was kinda pissed by the look of it, and I could tell it was because her hair was screwed up. I grabbed a hairbrush I kept handy out of the bike’s saddlebags and handed it to her.

“Next time ya might want to tie your hair up a bit better than just one band,” I suggested.

“Gee, thanks fer the tip,” she said with a glower. She grunted and growled trying to force the knots out of her hair.

“Let me.” I grabbed the brush from her hand. “Don’t start at the top of you’re just going to yank out half the hairs on your head,” I told her, “I had long hair a while back, but I got tired of it. Not to mention it just looked dumb on me.”

I could tell she was still getting hairs plucked out of her head, but at the same time I could tell it was far less than what she was doing herself. I finished and tied her band back up at the edge of her hair.

“Thanks,” she said begrudgingly, “Let’s get somethin’ to eat already. Ahm starvin’.” I could think of one thing to eat, but I don’t think that was the sort of “eating” she meant. Lord almighty my mind just would not stop with this cowgirl. I could already see all the nasty things I would do to her, and it was taking a lot of willpower not to try it in the middle of the damn parking lot.

I held fast though. I’d had to deal with overpowering temptation like that quite a few times before. It wasn’t like she was the first girl I wanted to fuck raw on sight. Despite all the problems this city had it still had quite a few good looking girls, although not many measured up to this “Applejack”.

Seriously I’m still not sold on the name.

“Is there someplace to eat in this place or what?”

“Yeah, but nothin’ good for breakfast,” I told her, “If you want something for breakfast that doesn’t amount to shit than wait ‘till we get home.”

I think she was about to complain, but she just gave up and decided to wait instead. We walked through the mall for a good while until I came across an old western clothing store. “Run in and grab whatever you need. I figured this is where you’d shop anyways.”

She didn’t bother responding and ran in while I waited at the register. She finally came up to the counter with three different bags. One tops, one pants, and one with a pair of boots and assorted undergarments. The total came up to be well over a hundred dollars, but it hardly mattered. I had cash to spare anyways.

After all that was said and done we headed down to the grocery store down the lot and picked up some necessities. For me that included prime cut steaks, pork chops, a few chicken breasts, potatoes, flour, bullion cubes, pancake mix, maple syrup, and a few pizzas. For Applejack that seemed to include mostly apples, and I mean a lot of apples. I was a little surprised that she could carry them all on her own.

Apart from that she also picked up a few piecrusts and other odds and ends. If I had to guess, and my mind wouldn’t wander elsewhere at the time, she had a few family recipes she intended to make during her stay.

We checked out and the total ended up around two hundred or so. A little more than what I normally spend on groceries, but whatever. After that I headed home. It was a little frustrating getting everything to fit in the bike’s saddles, but it fit…after I forced it to that is.

We wound up back home in no time and I just made some pancakes and heated up some syrup. When we sat down to eat Applejack still didn’t have much to say to me.

“Somethin’ seems different about these,” she said after some silence, “What ya do to ‘em?”

“I’ve always mixed a little cinnamon into the batter for a little extra flavor,” I explained, “I don’t do second rate. I refuse to settle.”

“Heck, nothin’ wrong with that.”

***

The rest of the day was pretty tame. At one point Applejack asked me if I had a job to get to.

I laughed. “Cowgirl I’m set for life. Did a few jobs back in the day, and I wound up with a retirement fund that even the guys in Hollywood wouldn’t sneeze at.”

She just nodded oddly. I assumed she’d somehow never heard of Hollywood. The evidence was really starting to pile up on her in just a day. To say she was strange would have been an understatement.

Well after a while I did go out to get some “business” done. A few alleyways, a motel, and the occasional bar where the fuckers tend to show up. These guys are easier to track than people half the time I tell ya.

Of course when I got back Applejack wanted to know where I went, of course I said it was none of her business, and that went on for a little while. Having her around that day was a little…what word am I looking for? “Mundane”? Yeah that sounds about right.

“Now where are ya headin’ off to?”

“The bar,” I snapped in annoyance, “Why? Ya wanna come with?”

She sighed in annoyance. “Fine.”

I pulled a double take. “What?”

“Ah said fine! Ah’m bored outta mah mind here dang it. Ah need to get outta the friggin’ house.”

“Alright then, but tie your hair up better this time.”

“Yeah, yeah, Ah’ll get the hair ties,” she mumbled.

I waited for her out front and I headed off as soon as she sat down. Of course she clung to me again, and of course I loved it. Soon as we got to the bar she ripped out almost all of her hair ties.

Anyways I figured I should try to be nice, so I drove off to a country-style bar. Before we even walked in the door we could here the music playing. I listen to rock and metal myself mostly, but I’ve always found country to be a nice change of pace now and then. I could tell Applejack liked it by the small lift in her step when she heard it.

We both sat down at the bar and I ordered us both a shot of southern comfort, an old favorite of mine. Strong and simple.

“So if you’re not working for someone where are you from?” I asked.

“None of yer business.”

“Alright then, I’ll go first,” I told her. She pulled a double take on me. I guess she wasn’t expecting that. “Don’t look so surprised. I don’t talk to many people, but for the time being I’ve gotta live with you. I don’t want things tense.”

“Oh, well alright then, talk away.”

“I had a shitty childhood,” I explained, “I was born in a small town, was raised by my parents until I was four, but I don’t like to talk about them. Not that they weren’t good people…it just hurts to remember.”

“Yer preaching to the choir sugarcube.”

“Sugarcube?” I parroted with a bit of humor, “Is that your pet name for me or is that just what you call your friends?”

“Mah friends,” she said with a playful glare before downing another shot, “Don’t get any bright ideas buster.”

“I make,” I stopped to take another shot myself, “No promises.” I ordered another round and stopped to regain my train of thought while I did. “Well…after the…accident…I was raised in an orphanage as you might imagine. My parents didn’t keep in contact with their respective families, so I didn’t have anywhere to go. I escaped plenty of times, but the damn police always dragged me back.

“I was a problem child. I drew the bad kind of attention, broke things, hurt people, though that was self defense…mostly.” I didn’t know where to go from there. There was so much to say, but so much I didn’t want to say—to anyone. Much less someone I’d just met.

“Well…” she took a deep breath, “Ah was raised on a farm as ya probably guessed. When mah parents, uh, left, Ah was raised by mah granny and big brother. Ah still work on the farm for a livin’, and the three of ‘em have gotta be worried sick.” She sank into her bar stool pretty deep.

“Barkeep, another round,” I called. She came around and just left the bottle. “That works too.” I poured us both another shot and rose mine. “A toast,” I suggested, “To us orphans feelin’ sorry for ourselves, no matter how different the reasons may be.”

“Here here,” she said as we clinked out shot glasses. We tilted our heads back and slammed down our liquor, and just shared a small laugh for the hell of it.

“Been a while since I met someone I could relate to,” I said, “Kinda nice, thanks.”

“Never you mind Greg. Ya’ll are crazier than mouse bull ridin’ a cat, but yer alright.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I laughed. I turned and yelled to the guy next to the record machine, “Hey! Hit ‘Cowboy Casanova’ will ya?” I turned to Applejack with a daring smile. “How about a drinking contest?”

She looked back with just as cocky a smile. “What ‘er the rules?”

“Keep going until ya drop or the song ends. You game?”

“Bring it on.”

***

“Twenty-three,” I said before we took the next shot, “And twenty-four.”

“Ah’m done.”

“Same here.”

“…How’re we gettin’ home?”

“Uh.” Never do think that part through. “Well either we walk ten miles or one of us sobers up first. Fuckin’ cabbies hate me.”

“Why?”

“Cause everyone hates him,” the barkeep said.

“Yeah well the feeling’s mutual, ya bitch.”

“Why do people hate you?”

“People hate what they fear and I give assholes a reason to fear me. Simple.”

“Well no offense, but ya’ll ain’t exactly the kind and benevolent king.”

“No I am not,” I laughed.

I’m wasn’t sure if it was just the alcohol at the time or not, but Applejack and I started getting along pretty well after that point. I’m not a bad guy really, I just don’t trust strangers, and in this city that’s what keeps me alive.

“Hey there cowgirl,” a guy said as he sat on the other side of Applejack, “You must be new, otherwise you wouldn’t be hanging out with that loser.”

“Ahm fine sittin’ here with Greg.”

“Fair warning pal, yer gonna get your ass whooped, and I’m not the one that’s gonna do it this time,” I told the guy. Honestly, that guy had an okay build on him, but Applejack worked on a farm all her life. It showed.

“Piss off freak. Come on cowgirl let’s get out of here and have some real fun.”

“Excuse me?!” she snapped.

“How drunk are you right now?” I asked.

“I told you to piss off!” he snapped at me. Then I saw him put his hand on Applejack’s lower back and start sliding down. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know where that was heading.

She turned and slugged him in the jaw so hard that I saw teeth hit the ground. He got up calling her a bitch and tried to swing at her. All at once she tried to get up too quickly and fell out of her chair, he swung too high and fell right for me, and I picked up the empty whiskey bottle and smashed it across his face. After that I kicked my stool out from under me, threw him back, and helped Applejack to her feet.

“Ah had ‘im!” she slurred.

“You’re so drunk you can barely stand, let alone fight,” I chided.

I looked at the asshole picking himself off the ground while the bouncer came over. As soon as he was standing he was thrown outside on his face. I think that cost him a couple more teeth.

“Y’know, Ah don’t really need yer help dealing with drunken jerks!” Applejack said as she shoved me, “Ahm tough enough. Heck I could arm wrestle you Ah bet!”

“Bet what?” I asked slyly.

“Uh, Ah don’t know? What d’ya want?”

“Alright…” I said while I tapped the bar in thought, “If I win you clean the blood out of my clothes. I’ve gotten in more than one bar fight you know.”

“Deal, and if Ah win Ah want a full body massage!” She slammed her fist down on the bar for emphasis.

“Lady knows what she wants, nice,” I laughed, “Alright, deal.”

We walked over to one of the tables in the middle of the bar and sat across from one another. I’d set my jacket on the back of the chair so I didn’t restrict my movement. I’d at least give her the respect to take her seriously. I was a head taller than her as it was, so I had an advantage. That and I could bench press her if I wanted to, then again so could she by the look of her. She had one unique physique.

“Ready, start.” I slammed her hand down instantly.

“Uh, Ah wasn’t ready.”

I started a snort and burst out laughing. “I can tell. Alright let’s try that again drunky, but this time you say start.”

“Okay.” We got set up again and tensed up ready to go. “Ready, go.” She started off pretty strong and I went off a little bit. I caught myself quickly enough, but she’d had me half beat already.

“Ah told ya Ah worked on the farm,” she reminded me, “Ah ain’t some puny city filly.”

“That’s one way to put it I guess, and believe me I remember.” I started pushing back pretty hard and inching my way to victory, but she started pushing back harder. She wasn’t letting up very much, but I wasn’t even started. I started pushing harder and harder and she started getting mad at me. After about a minute I was done messing around and slammed her hand down within five seconds.

“Guess you’re playing housewife tonight,” I bragged.

***

“Ah still can’t believe you won,” she gripped as she stepped off the motorcycle.

We’d stayed there for the next couple of hours trying to sober up. I drank so much water it went without saying I needed to take a wicked piss by the time I left. Anyways I was able to drive my bike by the time we left (and we didn’t run into any cops miraculously enough).

“Believe it cowgirl.”

We walked in the house and I threw my jacket and shirt on the couch. I felt like I was sweating, but that was just the booze. I learned a while back is that alcohol thickens your blood and makes you feel hot. I didn’t mind it most of the time, but not tonight.

“Well, Ahm a girl of mah word.”

“About that,” I said, “Forget about it.”

“Ah made a bet and Ah lost. Ah’ll own up to it.”

“Listen Applejack, I actually have a rule about this,” I explained, “Any bet I make when I’m drunk, win or lose, is null and void immediately.”

She looked at me in utter disbelief. “Really?” she asked, “Yer serious? Yer just lettin’ me outta it no ifs and or buts?”

“Believe it AJ. You mind if I call you that?”

She phewed and smiled. “All mah friends do, so go right on ahead.”

I thought it over. We didn’t start off on good terms, and I was sure we’d have a few trust issues for a while. We both had secrets, and we both had our reasons for keeping them. I wasn’t going to pry if she didn’t.

“Sleep well cowgirl. I’ll be out back,” I told her. I wandered outside and sat down in an old wooden rocking chair. I got it years ago at the same bar I’d been at that night. The owner didn’t have any use for it anymore, so I took it of his hands.

The guitar sitting next to the chair however…that was personal. I picked it up and plucked a couple of strings, getting a feel for it again. The booze was still running wild through my system, and I needed something to calm my nerves. I always got antsy when I was drunk, and I couldn’t sleep unless I did something about it.

There were only a couple songs I knew how to play, and they were all by the same guy. I started plucking chords and running my hand up and down the neck of the old instrument. “Well I won’t back down. No I won’t back down. You can stand me up, at the gates of hell, but I won’t. Back. Down. Gonna stand my ground. Won’t be turned around. And I’ll keep this world from dragging me down, gonna stand my ground, and I won’t. Back. Down.”

I kept singing to calm my nerves, and the strings didn’t hurt my fingers anymore after I’d been playing for so long. For so many years I’d played this song just to keep my head together. “Well I know what’s right. I got just one life. In a world that keeps on pushin’ me around, but I stand my ground, and I won’t. Back. Down. Hey, baby. There ain’t no easy way out. Hey, I, will stand. My. Ground. And I won’t. Back. Down. No I won’t. Back. Down.”

After two minutes I was done. Short song really, but it was my favorite.

“That was great,” AJ said from behind me.

My head whirled around to see her standing in the doorway. “AJ…I thought you went to bed.”

“Ah could hear ya through the window,” she explained softly, “Ah came out to listen. Ya sound amazin’. Ah didn’t take ya fer a musician. What made ya’ll decide to play tonight?”

“I’m not a musician,” I told her, “Booze puts me on edge. I do this to calm my nerves.”

“Why’d ya learn to play, and how’d ya get the guitar?”

“It’s personal, both of them…I’ll tell you when you tell me about the hat.”

“That’s personal,” she sneered.

“Exactly.”

The crisp night air blew against my bare skin during the following silence. It was nice. Refreshing even. I normally despise the cold, but this time I made an exception.

I plucked a string again in boredom.

“What’s the song?” she asked.

“Johnny Cash, I won’t back down,” I told her, “Sort of sounds like my life to be honest. I’ve always thought that was weird.”

“…Is the song special too?” she asked so quietly I almost didn’t hear her at all.

“…Yeah…” I set the guitar back down next to the chair and walked back inside. “Goodnight cowgirl. See ya in the afternoon I guess.”

I laid down on the couch and closed my eyes. Applejack went back to bed herself. After playing that song and having a little chat I was a bit tired finally. Just enough to fall asleep…it didn’t help keep my personal demons buried in my mind though. I’d grown used to it over the years. What was one more restless sleep?

Author's Note

Yeah this chapter is mostly filler, especially in the beginning. There's a long story behind Greg, but it will be explained soon enough.