It seems that if you help a copilot and flight attendant, the airline appreciates your efforts. We were on the next flight to Chicago.
◊◊◊
When we landed in Chicago, the FBI was there to meet us, and we were taken to a meeting room. They said my tormentor was Kevin O’Connell, a professional boxer, and they wanted to see my video. I was pissed when they wanted my phone. I logged off and handed it to them.
“What’s the password?”
I just shook my head. While I didn’t think there was anything on my phone to get me in trouble, why invite it?
I asked for my lawyer, and that pissed everybody off.
“Sorry, I’ll email you the recording, but I’m not giving you access to my phone,” I explained.
“It’s a chain-of-custody matter. We don’t plan to do anything other than examine the video file and confirm it’s legitimate.”
“Sure, you don’t,” I deflected.
Sadly, I don’t think the guy caught the sarcasm.
Ms. Dixon finally showed up. She made them agree to limit the scope of the investigation of my phone and put it in writing. Once that was done, I gave them the password. She talked to them, then came and spoke to me.
“Is there anything on your phone you’re worried about?” Ms. Dixon asked.
“Teenage boy here; who knows?” I said with a grin.
“Good call,” she agreed.
She had more information about Mr. O’Connell. He was a cruiserweight—up to 200 pounds—who was on his way to Chicago for a fight. He grew up in a rough area of New York and had a record of assault and strong-arm robberies. Mr. O’Connell had a boxing record of 18–9 but had lost his last five fights. They’d matched him up with a local kid who was supposed to be an up-and-comer.
Of course, there was a video of the fight. Ms. Dixon showed it to me, and I flinched when I saw the punches I took. I owed Fritz big-time. I hoped Cassidy would be happy with me because I had used my training to subdue him. Ms. Dixon told me that Mr. O’Connell was in a lot of trouble. On top of his possible criminal charges, the FAA could fine him as much as $25,000 for disrupting a flight. That was enough to give anyone a bad day.
The airline had my luggage for me and helped me sneak out a side door. The main entrance was crawling with press who wanted information on the fight. I wasn’t really up for that hassle right now.
◊◊◊
When I got home, I wished I’d stayed and faced the press.
“David Allen Dawson,” my mom intoned, prepared to ream me.
“I love you,” I tried.
“Let me look at you,” she said.
Dad shook his head at us. He was smart and stayed out of it.
“I think I need to take security with me from now on,” I said to try to slow her down.
Fat chance. I was put to the question, and the Detroit police and FBI had nothing on her. She made me walk her through it, and finally, she was satisfied.
“I was ready to ground you for life,” she said.
I just blinked, because if I said anything, it could only get worse.
“But it sounds like you did everything you could to avoid it and asked for help to try to defuse the situation,” she continued.
I glanced over at Dad; he was as shocked as I was and just shrugged. Where was my crazy, illogical mother? Who had replaced her with someone reasonable? I just reached out and hugged her before my real mom returned.
“I should go unpack,” I said to make good my hasty retreat.
Duke followed me to my apartment, and we spent some time making sure he got all the loving he’d missed over the last few days. I really needed some unconditional love after this weekend.
◊◊◊ Tuesday February 16
I looked at myself in the mirror. It wasn’t a pretty sight. My nose wasn’t broken, but it was red and swollen. I had a mouse under my left eye that was turning black. My forehead was also red from where Kevin O’Connell had jabbed me. I was lucky he hadn’t pummeled me more. I think if he’d known I had martial-arts training, he would have been more careful, and the outcome might have been different.
Fritz would be happy because I was now fully on board with his security requests. Now, when I came home, it just seemed as though the fence and cameras around the house weren’t enough. I sent a text to Caryn to contact him and let him put the cameras in my parents’ and my cars. She sent me one back telling me I was to meet her at Sullivan’s car dealership after dojo practice.
I skipped running and walked downstairs for breakfast. Duke was wagging his tail big-time when we entered the kitchen and found Little David and Peggy. He trotted over to the little boy and gave him a thorough sniff-test. While Duke gave Little David his puppy-scan, Peggy made a two-handed reach for bowls; it looked like oatmeal for breakfast. She was wearing a nightgown and facing the cabinets. I watched her and noticed something interesting: I didn’t think Peggy was wearing any underwear.
“Here, let me help you,” I offered and walked up behind her.
Instead of reaching for the bowls, I ran my hands up the backs of her thighs to confirm my suspicions. Peggy pushed her butt back as she firmly planted her hands on the countertop. I dropped to my knees and planted my face under her nightgown.
“David!” she hissed.
My mouth found her sex and got busy. I felt Peggy tremble, and her legs slid apart to give me better access. She didn’t make a move to fight me off, so I worked to bring her pleasure.
“Sheeeit, your parents are going to catch us,” she whispered.
I reached into my pocket and found a condom. As I stood up, Peggy tried to stand up straight, but I put my hand on her back to hold her in place. I dropped my pants and underwear around my knees and put on the condom.
“Yes!” she called out when I pushed home.
We were making a lot of noise, and at that moment I didn’t care if my parents heard or not. I was sure Peggy didn’t care because she was the one making the noise. I tried to listen for my mom and dad and held still for a moment. Peggy began to twerk her butt back at me, doing all the work. She must have been horny.
She slammed back into me, and I felt her climax on my member. What was it with this poor girl? It had only been like two minutes.
That was when I heard someone on the stairs. I jerked out and pulled up my jeans, leaving the condom on.
“You know, I tried to talk your dad into going into work late because of you two,” Mom said.
I don’t know who was more embarrassed, Dad, Peggy, or me. My mom thought it was the funniest thing she’d ever said. Let’s just say breakfast was full of awkward moments, and my mom had the time of her life.
I told Peggy she needed to be at the dealership later to help pick out her car and made good my escape for the day.
◊◊◊
My brief encounter with Peggy caused me a serious problem when I got to school. Mr. Happy wasn’t exactly, well, happy. He’d had about three minutes of heaven before he’d been put away. First thing I did when I got to school was hit a bathroom and dispose of the condom. When I made my way to first-period PE, I found he was still hard. You try to stuff him into a jockstrap like that. I was more than a little self-conscious when I went to lift.
“What happened to you?” Wolf asked.
It took me a moment to realize he was talking about my battered face.
“Fight,” I said.
“Did you win?”
“I guess.”
Usually, for guys, that would have been enough, but this was a fight. If it had been an argument with my girlfriend, I would have skated.
“Do I need to go get Gina?” Wolf threatened.
“I got into a fight. No big deal,” I said.
Wolf looked around the weight room and got everyone’s attention.
“David got into a fight, and it looks like he lost. Gather ’round; he’s going to tell us what happened.”