Draw Out (Aces High Jokers Wild 5.5): Aces High, Jokers Wild, #5.5

By O. E. Tearmann

In 2127, a young farmhand who calls herself Janice runs away from her corporate contract, her home, and everything in her past. Ahead of her is the Colorado desert, baking in a hundred and ten degrees of summer heat.

But it's better than what's behind her.

Fans of the Aces High, Jokers Wild series have asked to hear Janice's story many times. In this novella, her story is told.

Buckle up, it's going to be a bumpy ride!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amphibian Press
• Release date: Aug 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9781949693546

Book preview

For all of you trying to find your way. Hang on. You’ll get there.

Reader Advisement: This novella contains references to domestic abuse. Buckle up for the ride.

Event File 01

Timestamp: 1730-12-1-2159

Whoo-ee, I love me the smell of sex in the evening.

Aidan didn’t have to look at his hydroelectrics specialist to know she was leering as she fell into step with him and his husband. The woman was way too good at spotting things, sometimes. Sure, they’d been fooling around before dinner, but man, she just had to call it out like that. At least she’d said it out here in the hall and not in the canteen, in front of everybody.

He glanced at his husband when he heard the man make a little ‘erk’ sound in the back of his throat. Kevin's cheekbones had flushed an incredible shade of pink.

Aidan chuckled and slipped his arm around Kevin's waist, kissing his cheek. Thanks for making him blush, Janice. He looks cute this way. 

Oh, yes, thank you ever so much for encouraging her. Kevin grumbled, smiling awkwardly. And by the way, Janice, I've got some poetry for you.

Janice waved a dismissive hand. Aw don't start that shit again. I don't read that stuff an' you know it.

You might like this one, Aidan replied with a grin. Might ask Milo to read it with you. 

Janice rolled her eyes. Last person who got me to read poetry, you know what they said to do it? They said, 'kid, somebody gets cut to bits and thrown in the ocean.'

This one's about fucking. Aidan offered. We just read it; gets things going.

 Kevin ducked his head, and Aidan could see the tips of his ears going red. Nevermind what they’d just been doing, his sweet guy always got embarrassed when sex got talked about in public. It was one of the goofiest, most adorable things about him.

It’s not about ‘fucking’. Ginsberg was writing about the primal nature of lovemaking between men, Aidan. You don’t have to make it sound disgusting, Kevin grumbled.

Aidan snorted. Kev, did we read the same poem? It has ‘fuck me’ right in there. A couple times.  

Janice glanced between them. Fuck me, hunh? Since when does Mr. Ivory Towers read porn?

Kevin flipped her off.

Janice smirked. Don’t look at me for that, pal. I like ‘em fine on the fellas, but I ain’t got one of those no more.

Kevin groaned, raising his eyes to the ceiling. I hate you sometimes.

Aidan laughed and gently bumped his shoulder against his husband’s. As the laughter faded off, he glanced back to Janice. You know, Janice…I think you’re the only one on this base that I don’t have a history on besides Tweak and Billie, now that I think about it.

Janice smirked. Last poetry I listened to was about this crazy First Nation chick getting tossed in the ocean, that enough for you?

I didn’t mean about the poetry, Aidan snorted, rolling his eyes. I mean, I know you transitioned on this base, but that’s about it.

Janice shrugged. Not a lot to tell. It sucked, I got the hell out, I got lost, I got here, Taylor an’ the gang fixed me up.

Aidan gave her a patient look. Details, woman.

Janice gave him one of her slow, measuring looks. How much you want, nosy bastard?

Aidan shrugged. How much’re you willing to tell without killing me?

Janice sighed. All right, this’s the deal: We get a bottle after dinner. I tell you this shit, you never say nothin’, an’ you don’t call me a dumbass about it. Trust me, I already know I was a shithead.

I think being a shithead comes with being a kid in our situation, Aidan replied mildly, a grin just barely tugging the corners of his lips. But I promise I won’t say anything.

I second that, Kevin agreed. And I didn’t have your excuse to be a brat, but I still filled that role in style. No judgement here.

Janice sighed. I hate talking about this shit. she muttered, staring down at her boots as they came up on the canteen door.

She raised her eyes. Okay, fine. Meet me in the rec, after dinner.

Half an hour later, Janice poured out three cups of rum. Sitting, she stared into her drink for a moment, swilling the dark liquid. Aidan watched her face as she began to speak.

Sooo...I guess it started when I ran off. First thing I did was get lost, ‘course. Wait...no, that ain’t right. I gotta start earlier. I guess...I guess it started with this guy.

3-4-2127

Her head pounded. Her throat screamed with pain. Every breath was agony.

Dirt came away in her scrabbling hands as she fought her way up the side of another irrigation ditch and rolled down the other bank. Mud splashed up into her face.

Almost there. Three more ditches.

How could he? How could he?

Her hands were caked with dirt. So was everything else. Her heart was dead in her chest.

Julio. He said he loved me. And now...

The things he said...

A clod of earth came away in her hands, pitching her back down into the mud of the ditch. For a moment, all she could do was sit and sob. But that made the bruises around her throat hurt even more.

She wiped a hand across her face, got up, and climbed. The land beyond the irrigation ditches was dry, covered in wiry grass. She started to walk.

She kept her eyes on her boots. She wasn’t going towards anything, just away. Away from Julio. Away from dead grandads and dead uncles and a death sentence waiting to be passed. Away from all the bullshit. To didn’t matter when there was that much to be away from.

It was a rumbling that made her look up. The noise came first. Then the plume of dust, kicked up by a truck. The thing looked like rust was all that held it together. It wallowed to a stop in the dust not far from Janice. The driver’s side window shuddered down. A man with clay-colored skin and dark blue tattoos lining his face peered out, dark hair escaping its low ponytail. Look like shit, kid.

Fuck off and die, pinche barracho, she snapped, head down as she trudged. The last thing she needed was this asshole giving her shit on the worst day of her life.

Sure thing. The guy reached over to grab a half-full water bottle from the floorboard and tossed it out the window. It landed at her feet. Might get you somewhere, he offered.

Janice snapped her head up, ferocious rage roaring out of her mouth. "Man, I look like a rube to you?! I said fuck off!"

The dark man studied her for the longest time. Was he going to get out and get after her? Had she just killed herself with that crack?

Then he put the truck in gear. Yeah. Sure. See you.

Eyes back down on her boots, Janice choked on the dust of the truck’s leaving. Shaky with the fear of the moment, she stood still, letting the banging in her head ease up. Then she got back to walking.

She had no idea how much time passed. The sun burned. Her head throbbed.

Water. She should have taken the water the guy had offered. Should have....

Julio....

One foot in front of the other. Keep walking. Just...keep...walking...

Everything hurt.

Life hurt.

Janice raised her eyes, and her head swam. Julio had hit her so hard...

It’d been so fast when he came at her. Her brain kept replaying it. He’d moved so fast...

If she could get up on that ridge, maybe she could see something...

She raised her head, trying to sight...The world spun, blurring about the edges. Her legs gave out.

When Janice opened her eyes, the world swam. She groaned. Everything still hurt.

But at least it was cool in here. And...dark? Had she been passed out all day?

She sat up, and almost hurled. The pain was amazing.

Lie down, the dark man who’d been in the truck muttered from the little kitchen area where he was boiling water. Your head’s not good.

No shit, Janice retorted, her voice a croak. But she did lay back; nothing else to do, really. You followed me? she asked in a whisper. At least that didn’t hurt. Much.

The stranger pulled the pot off the stove and carried it over to the bed, dipping a cloth in it and dabbing it gently at the cut on her forehead. Well, wasn’t going to let you die out there. Make me a shit person, and I try not to do crap like that, if I can help it. Got food, when you’re hungry.

Gonna throw up, the teenager muttered, biting her lip at the pain.