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  Surrounded by Knight

  A Knight Raiders Novel

  By A.N. Hennessy

  Surrounded by Knight

  Copyright© 2015 by A.N. Hennessy

  All Right Reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manor whatsoever without written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction.

  Any references to historical events or real people are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations, www.okaycreations.com

  Editing services provided by KMS Editing, www.kmsfreelance.com

  Interior Designer: Zac Hennessy

  Prologue

  Darkness had sought refuge inside my soul since I could remember.

  Lost were my emotions. I didn’t own such a petty human function. It wasn’t that feelings were beyond me – I just found it was better to not feel at all than to let pain creep its way in. It was simple really. You just channel all the bad and wrong in your life and BAM!– it was like flipping a light switch. All shitty thoughts were gone. Replaced with nothing.

  All alone.

  That was the sad, pussified version of my life. And the streets? Well, they were pretty much what I’d called home since I was six-years-old and how I managed to scrape by. At fifteen, a boy my age should be in school and bettering their education. But I didn't have time for any of that shit. Nope. Education was the least of my worries. Adequate food in my stomach and decent clothing on my back were my biggest priorities. I didn't have the luxury like all those little rich fucks that got everything handed to them and ran around without a care in the world.

  Not me.

  I’d been leaning against a graffiti covered wall for the better part of two hours, in not the best of locations in Chicago, waiting to make my next sell. I wasn’t happy about selling drugs at my age, and if I had a choice, I'd never touch the fucking trash that people pay to poison their bodies with ever again. But I had no choice. I needed to make money somehow. I mean, how many people would suspect a kid carrying a guitar around to be selling drugs?

  Not very many.

  I already had plans for the profit I’d make off the cluster of eight balls in my case. I was going to treat myself to something new. Something that brought me splendid happiness and peace in this fucked up place we call a world.

  A new guitar.

  My old one, hanging around my chest that old man Grimes – my first foster – had given me had seen better days. It was old and worn, but well used. It was my very first guitar. My first and only love, and a cheap piece of shit that I planned to cherish for all of eternity. It was the only thing I had that meant enough to me to actually cherish. It wasn’t like I had a happy, wonderful family who showered me with blissful, affectionate love.

  Hell, I didn’t even know the meaning behind the word. Unless my obsession with music qualified, then I knew the definition exceedingly well.

  Growing up with no one to call a family, you kind of miss out on all the lovey-dovey stuff. I couldn’t say I had never imagined what life would have been like if things had been different. If my mom had loved me enough to stop using, and if my dad had never been thrown into the pen. But we can’t all sit around and reminisce on all the what-ifs, can we?

  Instead, I was a foster to two wonderful, lowlife alcoholics. Yelling and screaming, things being thrown, items broken and smashed into walls or heads had become a part of my everyday scenery.

  Did I like it?

  Fuck no, but what could I do about it? I had my ass kicked more times than I cared to count. So if the two drunks wanted to go at it and try to kill each other, than I say let ‘em.

  I was hardly ever there anymore anyways. I pretty much lived with my two best friends. Their mom is no saint, but she was compared to what I was used to. She had basically taken me in as one of her own, trying to provide for me as much as she did for her own sons, but her minimum wage job only paid so much. My foster’s didn’t care that I was never there, just as long as they continued to receive their check in the mail for me each month. They didn’t have a single care for me, and the feeling was promisingly mutual.

  There were a few other kids in their negligent care, and I had become real...close, with one. She and I had our own special way of taking our minds off of our crummy lives, and in those moments it was pretty damn mind numbing. We were a distraction to one another to help cope and forget about the world we lived in. Nothing but great sex would ever come out of what we were though, but it didn’t hide the fact that I hated seeing her in that hellhole. She deserved a chance at a bright future just like the rest of us.

  I had dreams like everyone else.

  Big dreams actually.

  Laughable to some, but my hopes were what kept me going. I didn’t plan on being scum on the sidewalk for the rest of my life. I wanted to get out, live it big and have it all. My boys and I would be somebodies one day. And when that time decided to come, I planned to sit back and laugh at all the sorry fuckers who said it would never happen.

  Chapter One

  Izzy

  “We better hurry up. You know how mom gets. She likes to have most of the cooking done the day before Thanksgiving,” I told Addie as she slowly scoured each and every aisle of the supermarket for any potential hotties. I loved the girl absolutely to death, I really did. But when it came to her scavenger hunts for the A-list men of Oklahoma and Texas, I despised her. I could beat her in the head with my cowgirl boot and feel no remorse. Well, okay, maybe a little.

  Don’t get me wrong, I liked looking at sexiness thrown about the state as much as she did, though my belief was that they should look for you, not the other way around. Addie, on the other hand, was like a horny man that needed it then and there and could care less if the man approached her or if she tackled him.

  I could never tire of her abilities though. She’s a wild one and could damn near talk a man into doing anything she wanted, which was like a superpower she was born with. I’d been led to believe that if she asked one to literally kiss her ass, they would do so happily.

  I remember throughout our high school years when she actually had guys fighting over who was going to do her homework. I thought it was pretty funny. She’s a looker, and most people confuse us for twins, but in actuality we weren’t even really biological sisters. We’re cousins; however we don’t consider it that way. She has been the closest thing to a true sibling that I will ever have, and vice versa. In our minds we are sisters.

  She never knew her father or her mother, but for different reasons. Her dad hightailed it when he found out her mom was pregnant, and her mother sadly passed away shortly after giving birth to Addie. Of course my mom took her in, Addie being her only niece, even though she was pregnant with me at the time. Addie and I were three months apart in age, so I guess to my mom and dad it was a lot like raising twins. My parents ended up officially adopting Addie when we were two, and they have raised her as if she were their own. I couldn’t imagine my life without her spunky, over-enthused fanny. Strangely, she had a way of brightening my day.

  “Yeah, well, the pumpkin pie can hold its horses a little while longer. It’s been a few days and I need some male interaction.” Her tone was serious as she turtle-necked it around each aisle.

  I shook my head with a small laugh. “What about Dean? You went out with him last night.”

  Halting so abruptly I slammed right into her back, she turned around and looked at me with a disgusting smirk. “Izzy, Dean doesn
’t even count. I have been talking to him for, what? A week now? And the sissy is still too scared to hit a home run. Says he ‘wants to take things slow’. I told him upfront that’s not what I was looking for. Have you ever known me to go slow? I’m not a damn tortoise, and I’m not looking to marry anyone. I just wanted him to fuck me. BIG difference!” She looked around before she added, “I thought I was going to rape him, Izzy. I mean, what man says that when you are inviting them through an open door?”

  Did she really just ask me that?

  “Um, maybe a gentleman?”

  “Don’t want one of those.” She waved it off with a roll of her eyes. “I just want someone who can continuously give me what I need with nothing expected of me. Something that can wow my socks off every night, you know? Bang me to hell and back!”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Wow, you have gone and surpassed high expectations. Maybe you should just hire yourself a gigolo.”

  I went to laugh at my little funny, not being the least bit serious, when she said, “That’s not a bad idea. I wonder how much one costs. Ooh, do you think they have a catalog where you can pick one to your specifications?” Without hesitation, I smacked her across the back of the head. “Uncalled for, Izzy,” she snapped, brushing her dark hair back into place. She snarled at me. “You just need to get laid so you know the frustration I’m going through. Then we can compare experiences and start taking notes.”

  “Fat chance on that happening. That time will come when it’s right and meant to be. I’m not spreading my legs for any dickhead that throws me a cheesy pickup line. I want it to be with someone worthy so it will be memorable.” I picked up a huge turkey, placing it into the buggy.

  Addie laughed, seemingly unaffected by my non-whorish ways. “Izzy, all men are dickheads, and a few other stately names, so good luck finding one worthy. And trust me, no matter who it’s with it will be memorable. Just make sure he knows how to work it. Lazy fucks suck.” She scrunched her nose, continuing down the aisle.

  The girl had no shame. When it came to guys, or talking to guys, Addie and I were one hundred and fifty percent total opposites. Addie had a mouth worse than an overly horny, relapsing sex junkie that hadn’t had any in years. A mouth that leaked foulness worse than what you would hear coming from the depths of some swanky sex club. She wasn’t afraid to speak what was on her mind, that’s for sure.

  I, on the other hand, was a little more...subtle. I could speak a few explicit words without a problem, but when it came to anything about sex...I was at a total loss. Addie here, she seemed to be a pro on the subject, and gave me grief all the time for still being a virgin. It wasn’t that I wanted to be, I just wasn’t going to give it up to the first, second or even third guy that threw a sleazy line my way.

  Not unless I felt a deep connection. I didn’t want to lose my virginity to a stranger that wasn’t going to value me and my virtue. I wanted that special moment to happen with someone that I knew, and without a shadow of a doubt, cherished and respected me as well as our special moment.

  “I’ll do my best to scorch that into my memory,” I mocked. “I think all your proclaimed hot men of Durant, Oklahoma took holiday leave from scouting vixens like you,” I told her as we made our way with a buggy full of groceries to the checkout counter.

  “I think you’re right, but there’s always Black Friday,” she joked – I think – as she emptied our groceries onto the counter.

  After checking out, we loaded the Thanksgiving supplies into our mom’s Ford Expedition and headed home to start the rigorous task of preparing a Thanksgiving feast for our large family. Okay, it’s not that large, but more than what some people have. Our grandmother from my dad’s side would be there; she was always a hoot to be around, along with Uncle Marvin and a few of our cousins.

  My mom was originally from Memphis, and both her parents had already passed. Addie’s mom was her only sibling, so she had become extremely close to my dad’s side of the family. Holidays were special to us since we are such a close-knit family, and I cherished each and every moment, placing it in my mental scrapbook.

  Singing and helping my mom and dad run their ranch took up most of my time. Mom was a huge animal lover, and horses were her weakness. She avidly rescued any unwanted or neglected horse; feeding and nurturing them until they were healthy enough to be broken in and trained to ride. From there she would find new loving homes for what she called ‘God’s majestic creatures.’ If she was unable to find them a home, then they would stay on the Morgan Valley Ranch where they lived out the rest of their days.

  Feeding many horses along with other numerous animals that call the ranch home could be fairly expensive, so it was a good thing our dad was a doctor...well, plastic surgeon, in Sherman, Texas.

  “You know, I was thinking,” Addie started with full concentration on the road as she was twirling her blow pop in her mouth.

  That couldn’t be good.

  Her thinking usually landed us nowhere but to unrewarding circumstances. She believed she was brilliant though, and being the big-hearted person I was, I just couldn’t bring myself to burst her little bubble.

  So I let her think on.

  “We should go to Nashville after Thanksgiving and pay Mom’s old friend Roy Michaels a visit. See if he can get us any backup gigs.”

  I swiveled in the seat. She had my full attention. “Do you think he would do that? I mean, backup singing isn’t what I envisioned us doing, but I guess it could get our voices out there. On the other hand, look how long Mom did it, Addie. Now she runs a horse ranch and only sings when she is cooking or in the shower. I don’t want that. I would rather us keep playing in local bars and county fairs until something big comes along. I don’t want—”

  “Listen to yourself.” Addie cut me off. “If you would remember the important part of her often told story, you would remember that she was offered a record deal after her tour with Loretta, but she met Dad and didn’t want to be away from him.” She quickly looked at me, tilting her head with her sucker placed in her mouth.

  She was right.

  Mom turned down the opportunity of a lifetime so she could be with our dad and start a family. All that sounded nice, but I was as single as the last cookie in the packet that no one wanted to touch – not even the fat kid that ate everything! As for Addie, at the rate she was going, she would never settle down and get married. She might end up with a few kids if she wasn’t careful, but I couldn’t see her wanting to choose the path our mom did.

  “You know what? I think your idea is genius. In all reality, what could it hurt, right?” I told her, sounding hopeful, as all kinds of possibilities ran amuck through my head. Going on tour and singing backup for a country singer didn’t sound too bad. I would rather us not be singing backup and rather just be singing on our own tour, but beggars can’t be choosers. Dreams live within us all, no matter how big or small, and if you wanted a chance to seize an opportunity then you had to be willing to do damn near anything to reach them. Especially the kind of dreams we had.

  Mulling over Addie’s new plan, I reached in the back seat for the bag with the blow pops, needing something to do to keep me from fidgeting tirelessly with my thoughts, when all of a sudden Addie screeched, “Oh my god!” at the top of her lungs.

  I believe I may now be deaf.

  In a rush, the breaks were slammed, and I jerked forward from the abruptness, but thankfully I was able to grab onto the headrest, preventing my head from becoming acquainted with the dash.

  “What the hell, Addie?” I shouted.

  She started pulling the SUV to the side of the road as I jumped back into my seat and looked out of the window, seeing nothing but flat open fields. We had passed all the stores that were off of US-75 and now in the vast country side of Oklahoma, where we were heading back to the sixty acre ranch we lived on.

  “Holy shit, Izzy! Did you not see him?” she asked, rubber-necking to look out of the back glass of the vehicle. She had the biggest grin st
retched across her face, reminding me of the time in high school when she pranced through the boy’s locker room and proceeded to tell me and a few of our friends what Bradley Shawl’s penis looked like. Mom and Dad weren’t too thrilled about her little excursion, but she sure was.

  I had to admit I enjoyed every detail to her story, as did our friends.

  Shaking my head, I asked, “See what? If you hadn’t noticed, I was unbuckled and halfway in the backseat with my ass in the air, trying to get a dang sucker. Learn to freakin’ drive.” She swiveled her head back my way, narrowing her eyes with her mouth hanging open. By the way she looked at me you would have thought I had slapped her, which didn’t seem like such a bad idea at the moment.

  “How could you not see that...that fine piece of ass on the side of the road?”

  I sighed deeply. “I wasn’t looking – wait, what fine piece of ass?” Her statement had me intrigued.

  “Look.” She pointed out the back window.

  Giving in and wanting to see what she found so darn thrilling, I looked out the back glass with her. My mouth fell open, just like hers had seconds ago, to see one hell of a smoking hot guy pacing up and down the road, cell phone in hand while standing in front of a huge black bus with smoke rolling out from underneath it.

  It was clear the stranger was in distress by the disgruntled expression on his handsome face and from the way he was peering at his phone, he seemed to be pissed. Be that as it may, he was also in Addie’s words ‘a fine piece of ass’. From the distance I could plainly see tattoo’s that covered his arms and a finely angled jaw that God must have blessed him with to be a tease to women. But most of all was that hard body his tight clothing was doing a terrible job at hiding.

  “You know, I’m no mechanic or nothing, but I think they’re having bus trouble,” Addie said, looking at me briefly before returning her gaze back to the pacing stranger with tattoos.