Chapter 1

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, Paranormal,

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A man searching for who he is finds himself immersed in a life he never thought possible.

"God damn it Dane, get back to work!"

Alexander Dane looked over his shoulder giving his boss a weary look. Taking a deep breath he gazed north over the open plain one last time before turning and walking back to the job site.

'Job site.' Alexander scoffed in his head as he made his way toward the construction site. It was little more than ditch digging, clearing out drainage canals so they would be ready for the spring rains that were only a few short weeks away.

Texas had not been the best of choices, but Alexander had no where to go after the medical discharge from the army had cut his intended future off at the knees. Well, knee to be exact.

Alexander rubbed the ever present ache in his left knee before grabbing a shovel and jumping down into the hole. Although it was only the end of March the temperature was in the mid nineties under the noon sun and once again Alexander pondered just how he had gotten here.

Growing up an orphan wasn't easy.

Those who grow up with a family, hell even a single parent don't really realize the gift they are given. A sense of camaraderie, of history, of belonging to something that preceded you and will remain after you pass from the world.

Being dropped off as an infant in front of the Sisters of Mercy in the dead of night during a Boston winter is not an auspicious beginning.

Alexander planted the shovel in the muck at his feet as the heat got to be too much. Stripping off his sweat soaked shirt he wiped his face with it before throwing it out of the hole. His wide back and shoulders stretched, the muscles pulling taut as he turned back to his labor and his musing of the past.

The sisters had been kind for the most part. Growing up in the orphanage was not bad, it just wasn't that good. Three square meals a day, a roof over your head and other kids always around to play with had its advantages. However, as with any social group there were always cliques that formed. Some were merely social, others drew those who liked to prey on others, who enjoyed the petty taunts and jibes that carry the deep cruelness that only children can conjure.

"Are you sure your not a girl Alexander, or should I call you Alexandra?"

Alexander sighed, the choice to let his hair grow long may not have been the best for a fourteen year old boy who, after spending his life lining up to find a family, had finally given up hope of ever being chosen. He was resigned to the understanding that no one wanted him. It was a hard conclusion to come to but life had made it perfectly clear that he was alone. It was best to simply allow that to be the case and endure another four years here before trying to find his own way in the world.

"I don't really give a shit what you call me Steven." Alexander stood from the bench where he had been reading, his well worn copy of The Odyssey falling to the ground. At 5'8' Alexander was one of the tallest kids at the orphanage. Few got in his way as his height was proportional to his size. He was always quiet and didn't get in any trouble, after looking at him most everyone decided it was best to leave him be.

Steven was new, in a few days after his mother was arrested on drug charges. Smaller than Alexander by almost three inches the other kids were surprised that he had called Alexander out.

Steven took a step closer to Alexander, figuring that while he was big the long hair and book he always had his nose buried in made him easy pickings.

"Whats a matter Alexandra, your panties all in a bunch now." Steven said with a smirk as he pushed Alexander back toward the bench.

Had he been watching, he might have seen his error in judgment. However, as he was looking around at the gathered kids preparing to gloat over how Alexandra fell over like a felled tree Steven didn't know what hit him.

Alexander had seen the other boys movement as if in slow motion, knew that he intended to push him. It was a simple thing to adjust his stance and weight, letting the other boy connect but feeling no ill effects and definitely not falling down.

Steven went from smirking at the kids surrounding them to looking up at Alexander standing over him, a calm look on his face as the throbbing ache began in Steven's jaw where Alexanders fist had left its impression

"I suggest, that you leave me alone Steven."

The words were spoken with icy detachment, Steven couldn't decide whether he really wanted him to leave him alone or not. There was a wild gleam in Alexanders eyes that seemed to be urging Steven to get up and try pushing him around again. Either way Steven decided in that moment that there were most definitely easier and smaller prey to be had.

Alexander shook his head, clearing the fog of memory as the boss came up.

"Alright ladies that's it, stow your gear in the equipment shed and pick up your checks. Be back here at 6am on Monday."

Alexander, a little slower than the rest of the crew, crawled out of the hole stretching his back and squatting down to loosen his knee. A brilliant sunset off to the west pulled at Alexanders attention before his boss clouded the moment.

"You'll need to step it up Dane, you're slowing down the job and while I don't want to I may have to let you go, if you can't keep up."

The snide way in which Bill made the comment just rolled off Alexanders back, he had seen enough pompous, arrogant, self important assholes to know they weren't worth the trouble.

"No problem Bill, I'll be sure to step it up on Monday." Alexander said in a quiet tone as he walked to the tool shed, handing in his work belt and shovel in exchange for another measly pay check.

Straddling the seat of one of the few things that gave him pleasure he brought the 57 XL Sporster to life, pausing a moment to enjoy its gentle rumble at idle as he waited for Bill to round the corner of the tool shed. When he did Alexander put the spurs to her, the rumble building quickly into a howling menace as mud and gravel were thrown behind him as the bike fishtailed off the site for the last time. Bill would definitely need a new work shirt to cover his beer belly come Monday. Once again Alexander was moving on, to where or to what he did not know.

Alexander would not miss the ratty studio apartment on the wrong side of the tracks. Packing his few possessions into his duffel and saddle bags he once again pondered just how he got here.

While the orphanage was not all bad, and most people left him to his own devices, the one thing that always bothered him, that would always show up on his evaluations, was his desire to be anywhere but there. So many times the police would bring him back after he found another way to escape the walled confines of the downtown orphanage.

"Where did you find him this time?"

Sister Margaret was one of the kinder nuns, she had been at the orphanage when Alexander was found, he held a special place in her heart so the question was not asked with any ire.

Sgt. Thompson smiled at the old nun as Alexander stood at his side looking at the ground. Over the past years the boy had continued to grow, now at almost eighteen he stood taller than the man at his side. At 6'4' Alexander was large though he carried himself with an almost animal like grace, passing through the world as if he owned it.

"It was the waterfront this time, reading on one of the abandon piers."

This was not the first time Sgt. Thompson and Alexander had met under such circumstances.

"I'll take him, I guess. Thank you as always Sargent, see you next time I'm sure." She said with a laugh as she followed Alexander back into the orphanage.

Alexander was about to turn toward the dormitory when the good sister stopped him.

"Come to my office Alexander."

Her words were not harsh as she turned up the stairs. Alexander sighed and followed. "Time for another lecture." He said under his breath as he took the stairs two at a time.

"What was it this time Alexander, the full moon coming, problems at school?" She asked the question absently as she took off her wimple and sat behind her desk.

Leaning against the door frame Alexander looked at her, she had a kind face, was one of the few people he had known his whole life and had some affection for, although he never showed it.

"Nothing particular, just needed some space."

It was his standard answer when asked why he found it necessary to be seemingly anyplace other than where he was suppose to be.

The truth was simply too hard to explain.

He didn't really have a good answer so this had become his standard litany.

Alexander had always needed to roam. Wandering the many city parks, the waterfront, once a long bus ride out to Worcester to simply walk in the forest, all felt more comfortable to him than the gated confines of the orphanage. It just felt right to be moving, to be out in the world trying to be part of it, the bars on the dormitory windows were his bane, he felt like a caged animal staring out through them as life moved by outside.

Sister Margaret regarded him for a moment then changed the subject, knowing that she would get no more answers from him on this topic.

"Your birthday is coming up soon, have you thought of what you'll do when you're free of us?"

The closer it got to June 5th the more worried she had become for the quiet young man who, aside from his many safaris, had always been one of the better of her charges.

Aside from that one incident four years ago where he had put a boy in his place many of the nuns feared that Alexander was just too self-contained, too gentle for the real world.

Alexander walked into the office and sat down, understanding that this was an actual conversation not one of the required reprimands.

"I'll graduate three days before my birthday sister, I've thought a lot about leaving here over the years, no offense." He said the last with a slight smile. "An Army recruiter came to the high school a few months ago, I took the ASVAB tests, it seems there are several places I may fit there. They offer college benefits, travel, something different." Alexanders words trailed off.

"The military is a noble pursuit Alexander, but are you sure such a ... constricting lifestyle is for you. We both know well being told where to be does not sit well with you." She was honestly concerned over this choice. Loitering in the park is one thing when your at the orphanage, going AWOL from the military however would carry grave consequences.

Alexander had the same concerns. He had been open with the recruiter about them. After basic training it would be very similar to a normal job. Normal hours, come and go from the base as you like, but with the knowledge that there were meals and a bed waiting for him that he didn't need to worry about.

"I've thought it over Sister. With no family, no money for college and no idea what I would study if I went, it seems like the best option out there."

Alexander didn't tell her that it was the chance to travel that really sealed the deal. Staying in Boston, finding some job, being trapped in the city was the last thing he could deal with. The military, though not a perfect choice, did offer him the opportunity to get away, to see some of the world and hopefully find his place in it.

Alexander looked at his packed duffel bag on the raggedy bed, the conversation with Sister Margaret seemed like a lifetime ago not the five years that had past. With a sigh he picked up a dog eared copy of The Odyssey hoping once again that Homer would help him find peace enough so his sleep would be blessedly dreamless, it was a slim hope but hope none-the-less.

The dreams had come as they most often did. It is hard to run from yourself, too often the past has a way of creeping in when you least expect it, finding the cracks in your armor and replaying the moments most painful with vivid clarity.

The images flashed by fast but each held the full weight of the moment, each re-experienced as if it were happening whole and complete, only to slip away and be replaced by another.

Watching the army barber in the mirror, clippers hot from a days long service, the heat of it almost unbearable on his scalp as his long golden blond hair fell away like late summer wheat to the scythe. It was cathartic, his hair had become something that defined him, as the army was want to point out they did not want defined individuals; they wanted blanks to train as they saw fit. Alexander wanted that too, wanted to reinvent himself into someone ... whole.

Graduation day, the families of his comrades surrounding them, the congratulations, the tears, the well wishes. The overwhelming emptiness of standing on the parade field watching as he always had the lives and interactions of others.

A full bird colonel, his aid standing rigidly at attention behind him, telling Alexander that wasting his god given physical prowess on intelligence analysis was never going to happen, that he was by birth a killer and the Army would see that destiny fulfilled.

Chaotic flashes of blood and pain, fear and exhaustion as the army made good on the colonels promise. His body taking on the shape they wanted, becoming the tool they wanted, as his soul shrunk smaller within him to escape the seeming truth that their training made apparent.

A hundred battles fought, in arid deserts, in primordial jungles, in quiet forests and sweltering city streets. Lives taken, souls given up to whatever god they prayed to, or to no god at all.

The shattering leaden truth as searing metal met flesh and bone. His knee crumpling from the white hot pain of its passing. Tasting the blood soaked mud forced past his lips as his body was no longer able to win the battle with gravity. The helpless feeling of the blessed abyss beyond the pain as he was loaded onto the evac chopper.

"Your career is over son, your country will be forever grateful for your sacrifice."

Alexander woke with a start, a thin sheen of sweat covering his body, sheets sticking to him like a shroud. His blond hair, streaked with auburn highlights like a sunset, lay matted to his head.

Six cities in six months since his discharge and still the memories came in his dreams.

No labor was hard enough, no day long enough to keep the ghosts of his past at bay. The moonlight lit his silhouette as his shoulders slumped, unbidden tears falling like a summer rain down his cheeks as he held his head in his hands.

'Is this all there is, is this all there will ever be?'

His unspoken lament sent out to the universe, a desperate plea from a wounded soul.

Shaking off his dreams Alexander stood, running his fingers through his hair before rubbing the ache in his knee. While beaten down he was not beaten, he would once again get up and try, keep the small flame of hope that burned in his soul to belong, to find his place in the world, alive, fueling his burning need to belong.

Turning on the light he grabbed the map, it had been the same since he was discharged, a glance at a map, a name that jumped out at him and he was off. There was no rhyme or reason behind the choices, simply chance. It felt right for some inexcplicable reason as Alexanders eyes wandered over the map, drawn north to finally land on Red Lodge.

'Sooner or later it will be the right choice.' Alexander thought to himself as he stepped away from the table to shower and hit the road, hope flaming high within him that this place would be the one to at least stand a chance of becoming home.

Alexander enjoyed being on the road. His hair, now grown out held tight under a black bandana, the wind buffeting against his body, the unknown around every corner.

He had seen the world as he wanted to. Not everyplace lived up to the expectation, but more often than not they were more than he imagined, more than he could have ever dreamed.

In the moments between doing his duty and putting his training to the test he would simply be in the world, be present for it, take in the inherent magic that most people were too busy, too blind or too reticent to see.

He had hoped a place would capture his soul, send an unheralded message that this was home, where he belonged. None ever had and just as the lines waiting for a family to choose him had jaded that hope, so too did the ever increasing line of places and people behind him held no hold on his heart.

Leaving Borger, TX was not something to lament. As was his habit it was a random choice, big enough to have jobs available, small enough that he could keep to himself.

As he passed over the Texas/Oklahoma border he realized that as he had jumped around the country since his discharge he had stayed shorter and shorter amounts of time in his chosen towns.

The restlessness in his soul seemed to be getting worse, harder to contain.


His simple question, thought as the open plains of Oklahoma gave way to the growing hills of Colorado had been plaguing him more and more. Why the wander lust, what was he searching for? He had all but given up on his hope for a family many years before, with his career cut short he was at loose ends, drifting, hoping to find something to grab onto, but having no clear idea as to what it was.

By the second day the slow rolling hills had become the dominant feature, breaking the passing scenery into glimpses at the crest and trough of each earthen wave he traversed.

Colorado had passed in a blur as he let the hum of the tires and the beautiful scenery soothe his questing mind.

He had made good time through Wyoming, stopping here and there to sketch a vista that was unique and caught his passions. The further north he traveled the more settled he became. It was the first time he had ventured into the Rockies, was unprepared for their allure, the gentle pull of their ancient countenance.

Day four dawned cool and clear. The sun rising over mountains in the distance, the Rockies whispered their siren song from the horizon. He had found a small overlook to camp at the night before just outside of Cody, WY. It had been his habit to simply pull over at some out of the way spot and sleep under the stars. It had been so for as long as he could remember.

Even back at the orphanage many a morning the sisters found him sound asleep on the roof. No matter how many times or types of locks they used, he always seemed to find his way to sleep under the open sky, the stars and moon his only companions.

Alexander stood in his jeans looking out over the sunrise. It had been a cool night camped out at the small park along the winding back road through the mountains. He figured he would make it to Red Lodge, Montana today if traffic and the universe were amenable. A small blaze of hope that this place would hold what he was searching for.

"Beautiful morning."

The sound of the mans voice from near by caught Alexander completely off guard. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had been able to approach him so closely without his knowledge.

He turned warily.

"It is that." Alexander said quietly as he looked the man over.

The older man was tall, nearly 6'2", just under Alexanders own height. Hints of gray at his temples and close cropped hair gave him an air of authority. The badge pinned to his shirt and the Beretta at his hip completed the picture.

"You just passing through son?"

The question was asked lightly, with a neutral tone meant not to convey any hint as to what the right answer would be. It was not the question that made Alexander stiffen, it was the easy familiar tone he used the affectation "son" with.

Alexander knew it was common, but each time he was confronted with it, always the lasting echo of ... son ... was accompanied by pain.

Alexander responded as he moved slowly over to his open duffel to retrieve a shirt.

"Yes sir, just heading up north and needed a place to bed down for the night, I was just getting up and around to get back on the road."

John Sims had noted the scars on the mans back as he watched him before he spoke. A few bullet holes and knife wounds, from the ragged look of it, the scar of burn bandaged in the field across his left shoulder.

He had seen the scars continue along the front when the young man had turned around.

A long slim scar, raised and red from a knife blade starting from his collar bone that angled across and down to his waist to disappear at the line of his jeans.

An exit wound from a bullet shot from behind.

The obvious limp as he moved slowly to his duffel.

Jim was surprised to see the young man shirtless when he came upon him while doing his usual circuit of the area. Early April was still damn cold at this elevation. Looking over his gear John didn't see a sleeping bag, only a well worn army blanket. While curious, he chose not to comment on it, he didn't sense anything different about the man and felt it best not to push. Keeping his voice friendly he continued with the vague pleasantries.

"A good place to stop, wouldn't want to wreck that beauty of yours." He said motioning to the Harley.

His tone was jovial, calm by choice. Whoever this young man was he had obviously seen his share of trouble. And trouble usually followed those with which it had such an obvious connection.

Alexander merely nodded as he pulled the shirt down over his chest, noting the officer had not moved since he had first turned around. He relaxed a little, not sensing anything openly threatening about him as he pulled his boots on.

"There's a nice little diner about four miles down the road, if you're lookin for breakfast you won't find any better in the whole state."

Jim relaxed as the man sat down to lace his boots.

'Army issue.' Jim thought. The boots, the duffel, all clues to the young mans recent past.

"I just might stop in, lunch yesterday was my last meal. I was too tired to find something last night. I hope me crashing here was not a problem."

"None at all, much rather have you crash here than around a tree up the road." The officer said with a smile.

Jim paused as Alexander stood again, stretching his arms over his head before running long fingers through hair.

"Where you headed up north? If you don't mind me asking."

Alexander was not surprised by the question. More times than he cared to remember over the last six months someone had asked him something similar. Often times it was given as a challenge, one that Alexander never rose too. This one didn't have that feel, it had, surprisingly, the inflection of honest interest.

As he gathered up his saddle bags and walked to his bike he answered.

"Red Lodge, just north of the state line."

Jim was surprised by the response, Red Lodge was not usually on anyone's itinerary, hell he knew people that lived within a day of the place that had never even heard of it.

"Pretty country up there, a nice quiet place, you got friends or family from up that way?"

Alexander pulled a clean bandana from his duffel before closing it and tying it on the back of the bike.

"Nope, just saw it on a map and decided it would be my next stop."

Alexander was becoming a little suspicious, his body tensing just a bit as his senses heightened, waiting to see what question was coming next.

Jim took it all in and decided that whatever this man had been through and he was drawn to Red Lodge so be it.

Jim took a step forward and extended his hand.

"You have a safe trip then, if you do stop at the diner try the country omelet it will get you through a day on the road, no doubt about it."

Alexander took the offered hand, gave it a firm shake and let go. Relief coursing through him as the opportunity for a confrontation passed.

"Thanks, I'll do that. You have a good day officer."

Alexander started the Harley, letting it calm to a steady burbling idle before nodding to the officer and heading off down the road.

Jim stood watching as he drove away, something tickling the back of his mind, a feeling of deja-vu coming over him as he watched the young man ride away. Shaking it off he decided to have lunch at the diner, Millie would most assuredly remember if the young man had taken him up on his advice.

On the outskirts of Custer National Park, Red Lodge, Montana was off the beaten track to be sure.

Boasting an interesting if not particularly inspiring history, it was a quintessential small western town.

Founded in 1884, coal and then gold drew people to this small outpost in the middle of the Rocky Mountains. A mix of northern European, Asian and local Crow Indians had given the small town a unique mix of people and traditions.

Jenabel Benton loved her town with a passion not usually seen in twenty year old women, but then Red Lodge was home to so much of her history it was only natural that the place would hold special meaning for her and the rest of her family.

Her great great grandfather Ezra had been the first post master in town, served as mayor, councilman and sheriff. As the years and generations passed, Red Lodge grew and shrank as all small towns do. People were born, lived and died within her, held her secrets, added to them and passied them down to those that came after.

Many left, the allure and history of the town and surrounding mountains lost to them. Most of the graduating members of Red Lodge High couldn't leave town quickly enough. Wanting to see the world they said. Jenabel scoffed at the notion.

She had seen some of the world, left her hometown for college, seen and done things outside the confines of this little corner of the world. It left her with a bitter taste in her mouth and a yearning to be where she knew she belonged.

Graduating from MSU with honors, Jenabel's business degree would be put to good use in her families holdings. During her years away she had made a point to travel, to take every opportunity to see what the world had to offer. From symposiums on emerging business trends in China that let her stand on the great wall to a six week internship with Barclay's Bank in London providing an opportunity to do all the touristy stops that she greatly enjoyed. Jenabel was not a sheltered mountain flower.

Of all the places she had seen though, none gave the simple yet deep feeling of home that came as she walked down Broadway, the main street of her home town.


She recognized her fathers voice immediately.

Turning she watched as he strode up to her. As always he was in a rush, it came with his position but she wished on more than one occasion that he could simply slow down and take life a bit easier.

"Daddy." She said, reaching up to hug is thick neck.

The years had been kind to her father, a big man, standing over 6'2" he had a commanding presence. Close cropped gray hair covered his head. She had often imagined what he would look like with longer hair, she thought it would have softened his features. 'It's probably why he keeps it cut short, ' she mused.

Yes, with his broad shoulders, button down western shirt and ever present black Stetson, Carl Benton was a force to be reckoned with.

"Where you heading baby girl?" Carl asked as he wound his arm around her waist and walked down the street with her in tow.

"I was just gonna grab a quick sandwich at Meg's before heading over to the mine."

While mining as a big industry had died out decades ago, the Benton family had kept its hand in it over the years with steady results. The operation was small but that was what made it profitable. A good amount of coal came out of the ground each year with little impact on the mountains the family and community so loved.

More revenue came in from the gold mine but the family made sure very few people had that knowledge. No need for folks to know all their business, and with the size of their family it was pivotal to keeping them in the black.

"I'm heading into Bearcreek, you want to ride along?"

It was odd for her father to seek her out for a quick trip to the neighboring town and she as much as told him so.

"Why would you need me? I've got the quarterly reports to get to the accountant and we have the new earth mover being delivered today; I should be there to check it over before we accept it."

Carl Benton smiled down at his daughter. She was a tenacious little thing, just like her mother. His own mother would be so proud of her granddaughter, all spit and vinegar and not afraid of anything.

"Brad is at the mine, he is more than capable of looking over the new machine. And as for the reports, fuck the accountants they can wait a day or two or three."

Jenabel shook her head wearily. By the tone of his voice her father would not take no for answer. She was curious about his motives but knew it was pointless to ask. He would get around to telling her what was on him mind when he was good and ready, not a moment sooner.

"Well let me get a sandwich to go then, God knows you won't want to stop to eat after your appointment." She said the last with easy humor, none would take her father for a man who loitered over such inconsequential things as food.

"I'll meet you in the truck." He said over his shoulder while grabbing his cellphone to make a call.

Jenabel shook her head and smiled as she stepped into the small restaurant, she would need to be quick, nothing put her father in a mood quicker than being kept waiting.

The proverbial other shoe dropped on the way home.

"Thomas Bouchard called me this morning."

Jenabel's expression darkened instantly but she held her tongue.

With a glance to his right Carl was not surprised to find a storm brewing in his daughters swirling brown and gold flecked eyes.

With a small smile he continued.

"Thomas thought it might be a good idea, now that your home from college to stay, to put a small party together, sort of a welcome home kind of thing. Let everyone know your back for good, give you a chance to catch up with old friends."

Her fathers tone was hopeful. She saw right through him.

One of the few bad things about being part of a unique and historied family was that it burdened those in it with the weight of tradition. Every generation it seemed that some how some way a Bouchard and a Benton had married. The families had always been close. Both families had settled in the area at the same time about 100 miles apart. Over the generations a close bond was forged between them.

While Jenabel treasured most of her heritage, this was one she vehemently felt was ready for the scrap heap, and was not shy in giving her opinions on.

"Oh that's real sweet daddy that you and Mr. Bouchard are so concerned about my "old friends" being sure to know I'm back home. It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that Mr. Bouchard's son is wanting to sniff around and see if I have an interest in continuing the tradition now could it?"

Carl didn't know whether to be mad or pleased with his youngest daughter as he looked into her eyes, trying to define exactly how far she was willing to push this.

The momentary distraction was at the most inopportune moment, as most such distractions are.

The doe jumped up onto the road in the same instant that Carl's attention was on his daughter. The flash out of the corner of his eye provided that something was in the road. He swerved on instinct.

Anywhere else on Brophy Road and things would have been fine. But the doe chose the hairpin switch back at the top of the rise.

The Suburbans tires squealed trying to maintain their grip on the road, they almost made it but as they were already turning the momentum was just too great.

Carl's ears were assaulted by the screams of his daughter and gut rending howl of steel being bent and torn as the truck tumbled end over end down into the ravine.

The noise ended as quickly as it had begun.

Small things registered.

The tick of the now dead engine as the fluids drained to the top of the motor.

Thick fumes of leaking gasoline assaulting his nose.

Quiet whimpers from beside him.

Carl's hand reached out, gently shaking his daughters leg. A louder, tortured groan the only reply.

The roof of the Suburban had caved in when they finally came to rest on it. The seat belts locking them in as they dangled only a few inches from the shattered ceiling, the release levers just out of reach.

Carl took long deep breaths, trying maintain control. He needed to stay present, couldn't let the wildness that threatened to overtake him do so. If he lost it, gave into the feral fear growing in the center of his chest they would only be worse off.

The fumes were getting stronger, Carl was running out of time and options, he needed a miracle, not for him as much as his baby girl.


Jenabel's voice was thick with pain.

"I'm here baby, it's gonna be okay, you just relax, I'll get us out of this."

She was calmed by his words, but knew it wouldn't be that simple.

"I can't move my arm, its wedged between me and door, it hurts and ... there's a lot of blood."

Carl closed his eyes.

"Hold on baby, just hold on."

The closer Alexander came to Red Lodge, the more anxious he became.

It was always the same when arriving someplace new. What were the people like, would they be accepting or find him simply unacceptable. Alexander kept to himself by nature. In some of the places he had been that was the norm, people keeping their own council and their business their own. In others it was expected of new comers to be almost immediately forth coming with who they were and what their intentions were.

As Alexander didn't know the answer to those things himself, it was impossible to share them with others which had led to more than a few harsh words spoken of and to him.

He had been heading west on Hwy 308 for most of the past hour. A quick stop to stretch and fill the bike up in Bearcreek was the only stop he had made since having breakfast at the small diner the officer had recommended.

He had been right, the omelet was one of the best things he had ever tasted, too bad they were now four hours south of his chosen new home.

'Hell might be worth a ride every now and again.'

Alexander thought as he noticed the side road leading off north west from the 308's almost due west path.

He slowed the bike to a crawl as he came even with the road, trying to decide if he should indulge his desire to wander once again or just stay on course.

"Fuck it."

The words were lost in the noise of the Harley's engine revving loudly as he turned onto the smaller side road, accelerating fast as the road wound it's way among the deep ravines that surrounded it.

Alexander grinned as he saw the hairpin turn coming up, his body tensing, getting ready to pit himself and his ride against the forces of gravity and physics. Just before the turn he noticed the dark black streaks on the highway. Saw the shattered glass along the edge toward the ravine.

Locking the brakes he skidded to a stop.

Dropping the kickstand and jumping off the still running motorcycle he ran to the edge.

There, about a hundred feet down was a Suburban on its roof.

"Dammit." Alexander said as he pealed off his jacket and navigated his way to the crushed vehicle. He had seen these types of crashes before, the outcome was rarely good.

The doors were wedged closed in the impact, he could smell the gasoline that was leaking from the wreck, hear the metal groan as it strained to maintain what little integrity it had left.

Bending down Alexander looked through the 1/3 of the window still open to see a man hanging from the seat belt.

"Hold on, I'll get you out."

Kneeling down Alexander put his jacket on the jagged metal edge of the crumpled window. Setting his legs tight against the wreckage he pulled with all his strength.

The metal screamed at this newest stress, fighting against the strain Alexander was placing on it. He felt it give just a little, it groaned under the force but held tight.

"Never mind me, save Jenabel."

Alexander heard the words but wouldn't give up, it wasn't in his nature.

Eyes closing Alexander felt the familiar pressure build. It rushed to the fore faster than ever before which startled Alexander. He had never tried to purposely find the strength, doing so now it seemed a battle of wills, as if to access the power he had to wrench it from another's control.

The first time it came to him was in Afghanistan, coming to him unbidden in a moment of great need.

His first two missions had gone well, in and out, targets neutralized and back to base without so much as a scratch. This time was different.

His squad had been ambushed just before reaching the target. Three died in the initial RPG hit which brought down a good portion of the cliff wall they were traversing. Only he and Peterson were left, exchanging fire with the insurgents on the other side of the small canyon.

"Leave me Dane, get out now, we won't be able to hold them off, my legs are broken, get your ass out of here!"

His Lieutenant screamed at him over the din of the incoming rounds.

Peterson's legs were crushed under a large boulder that had been dislodged during the initial explosion.

"Fuck that ... sir."

Alexander was damned if he would leave the man behind.

Slinging his rifle he put his back to the rock, pulling with all his strength the rock wouldn't move an inch.

"I told you, get the fuck out of here, call in an air strike, take these cocksucker out Dane!"

Alexander ignored the LT, continuing to struggle against the unmoving rock, his hope starting to wane that he would be able to rescue his fallen commander.

At the point Alexander was about to give in, he felt a strange feral energy well up within him. It was nothing like he had ever experienced before.

One moment he was struggling against the rock, the weight simply too overwhelming for his own strength to match. And then he became infused with something more. Like a wave cresting and the power crashing through him the rock moved. The initial shock almost made Alexander lose his hold. Tightening his grip, arms and shoulders flexing taut under the strain the boulder moved smoothly, unpinning the LT's legs.

"Come on, we've got move!"

Alexander shouted as he slung his wounded commander over his shoulder making their escape.

It had happened on and off over the years when the situation was dire and Alexander felt the most helpless.

Now, for the first time he willed it to come over him, needing that feral power to save the people in the Suburban.

The door screeched under the strain and came loose, the car rocking under the sudden release.

Sliding the small stiletto out of his boot, the sun glinting off the blade, Alexander cut the seat belt as the man slumped into his arms.

Alexander dragged the near unconscious man up the side of the ravine as far as he could in case the car exploded.

"Jenabel ... Jena..."

The man lost his battle with consciousness as Alexander turned to sprint back to the wreck.

The other side of the vehicle was in worse shape, only a few inches of the window remained open from the crushing blows it had taken rolling down the hill.

Peering in, Alexander saw a dark cascade of flowing black hair, a young woman's face veiled by blood and bruises as her body hung limp, caught in mid-fall by the seat belt.

With a primal growl Alexander grabbed the sill, hands cut to shreds by the jagged metal and glass. He didn't notice as he focused on the door, seeing it in his minds eye ripped from its hinges so he could get to the trapped woman beyond.

His desire was rewarded with a guttural ripping sound as the door gave up it's short fight against his strength.

The woman fell into his arms as he tore the seat belt from its foundation, he cradled her gently, seeing the odd angle at which her arm was bent, understanding immediately it was a bad break.

"Hold on, everything will be fine."

A flash of emerald green eyes, a moment of wonder and then she was unconscious again as he hustled his way up the hillside, putting as much distance between them and the wreck as possible.

He had just made the point where the man lay when the fuel ignited.

Falling to his knees, Alexander curled his big body around the woman in his arms, his only desire to keep her safe from any more harm as the heat and debris from the explosion slammed into him, an unrelenting wall of pain and sound.

As his strength finally ebbed and unconsciousness beckoned with it's soothing sirens call Alexander thought that if this was his time it would be an honorable end.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Romantic / Heterosexual / Paranormal /