Home » General » Collins Rhōg – Cambire, The Story Part 12

Collins Rhōg – Cambire, The Story Part 12

Collins Rhōg shugoSedona AZ (January 28, 2015) – The following has been taken from Collins Rhōg’s private journal, and reproduced exactly as it was written, by his own hand. The date has been omitted, at his request, but Collins view is always captivatingly honest, full of depth and color, heart and perseverance in times of struggle. Collins spills his soul and captures his feelings with vivid imagery and heart felt emotion that oozes from the pages of this historic text.

The following is but a portholes view, from across the room of “The Life and Times of Collins Rhōg“:

If you are new to the story, it all begins at this link (click here). In previous weeks, our readers were introduced to Rhōg’s story as written in his journal. Join us as we return to the Life and Times of Collins Rhōg, now 38, while he surveys the gates of Hell:

Cambire, The Story Part 12

The game had changed. Whatever I was involved in was not what I had signed up for. Adrenaline was causing me to tremble, it’s always worst after the fact. I needed to formulate a plan and call in reinforcements. Failure to plan was planning to fail.

Pulling the bike over to a pay phone, on the outskirts of town, I rang up my good mate, Russ, fellow S.A.S. alumni. Gripping the hard plastic phone as the line connected, I started thinking about the job…what the bloody hell was going on, how the hell did it go south like this? The phone rang…then paused. Rang…then paused..

“Come on, Russ!” I said out loud as it rang again, and then paused…and then I heard a click.

“…’Ello?” Russ answered in his cheerful self, it was good to hear a friendly voice.

“G’day Russ, how are you?” I asked with utmost seriousness.

“Collins? I’m alright…bloody hell, how are you doing?” His voice oozed cautious excitement to hear from me.

“Been better, I’m having some serious car troubles.”

“I figured as much…tone of your voice and all…can I help?”

“This will take more than simple hand tools to repair. I’m gonna need bigger stuff.”

“Alright then, I can handle it, where are you?”

“I’ll let you know, just gather up all the burly shop tools for a major repair. Better bring Greg in on this job, I think I’ll need his mechanical expertise to get on the road again.”

“You must have serious problems to bring Greg in. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Russ.”

“No problem, mate. That’s what friends are for.”

“Talk later.”

“Roger that,” he said. I could tell he was concerned.

“Oh, and Russ?”

“Yea, mate?”

“I got a dog.”

“What?”

“We’ll talk later, get ahold of Greg for me. I’ll be at my condo in two days..I’m not looking forward to the junk mail that’s piled up there.” He knew what I meant.

“Right, mate…that junk mail can be annoying. I’ll talk to Greg…Godspeed!” He hung on the line briefly before hanging up. At that moment the phone felt archaic and I realized that it was time for me to get out.

cole black plastic caseStill musing about what was in the military case, I couldn’t fathom why Tristan was involved..and what about the Russians? Pausing I questioned my purpose, my situation…and then I heard sirens echoing in the distance. The Suburban had been found.

Riding back into town on the Kawasaki Ninja, I passed the old Land Rover parked in front of “The Dodge.” Shugo was still attentively seated in its passenger seat and watched me zip by. On the other side of the city limits, I opened her up and bombed into the desert. It was nearly dusk and I had to meet Reegan. My shoulder hurt more than normal, it had been five days since getting shot and I had overdone it that day.

Sitting at the intersection of Interstate 395 and Highway 31, outside Valley Falls, I waited for Reegan. There was no traffic, none at all, and the crickets were singing as the sun went down behind the Cascade Mountains. Valley Falls consisted of nothing…just an old closed down market and some farms. I sat there, thinking about the events that had just taken place, what was in the package, how did they know where to find me? It was disturbing.

My thoughts turned to Reegan and how we met at Knock Knocks, a Seattle club. At five foot nine and a buck-twenty eight on the scale, she’s a tight package with green eyes so deep that I forget myself every time I look into them…and that “oh-so-sexy” smile. Ahh…that girl has a tush on her and knows it too…usually wearing leather pants that hug every curve tighter than a F1 on a sweeping apex. Reegan was trying to break into Moto GP and could ride a motorcycle better than anyone I’ve ever met, doing things with a bike between her thighs that I can only dream about.

I saw her on the dance floor as she turned to greet me, eyelashes heavy with mascara, jet black hair flowing over her exposed shoulders and a coy smile revealing a glimpse of white teeth through the club’s muted light. Her figure was tight as she gyrated amidst the laser lights and strobes which exploded to the pulse of the music. Our chemical attraction was primal and fierce, so strong that no words were shared as we came together, both slightly cagey of the other, but completely fascinated with the force that drew us. Her hands were all over me, mine were all over her, as we tightly danced in rhythm, sizing each other up, undressing the other with our eyes, two creatures caught in a spell that overtook jurisdiction of our minds and bodies.

ReeganI turned my back to her as she moved in behind me and rubbed my torso, her hands exploring like a forceful massage from a pulsing shower head. Beautiful people gathered to watch us fluidly move as one, but we were focused only on each other, in the moments…that we were the moments. Turning, my nose nuzzled into her damp hair and I inhaled the sweet scent of her sweaty body, milling against mine.

As our perspiring foreheads reunited, we stared once more into each others eyes, still oblivious to the crowd around us, lubricated by sweat and pheromones. Mascara streaking from her eyelids, I leaned to bite her lip while she bit me back, pulling at my flesh with her teeth beneath the pulsing lights. Her hands were in my wet hair when she let go her bite and shuddered briefly…pulling me in close to tremble breathlessly within.

Then, as quick as it started we both stopped, exhausted and dazed. The DJ transitioned to a new song. We just stood there in amazement holding each other soaked with sweat, not comprehending what had happened. We didn’t speak but slowly moved into each other again as her soft lips crept over mine. The hair on my neck rose to attention and our spirits intertwined once more. We kissed for an eternity as time stood still, and then stopped. I opened my eyes to see myself, just as she opened hers to see herself…it was magical. Gradually we pulled away, sharing one last gaze. Still facing me she stumbled into the crowd and was gone.

Later, when I removed my clothes, her scent filled my lungs. I found her folded business card in my rear pocket…and that was how I met Reegan.

That beautiful memory is forever cast within our minds, to be called upon with a smile and a shiver of lust at various times for the rest of our lives.

The crickets chirping returned me to the present. Several miles down the road there was a halo of a headlight. It would rise over a hill only to disappear and then rise again to vanish once more, as if slowly bobbing upon a wave. After about a minute, the faint scream of the engine, revving to no end, could be heard. There was no mistaking it was Reegan alright and, as usual, she was flying.

The shrilling machine became progressively louder atop each hill and muted down in the hollows. Then, all at once, she burst over the last knoll making close to a buck seventy-five mph and, still about a mile out, as if exhaling, the bike changed its tune as she reeled it in for a landing. You can always tell a racer by how they match RPMs when downshifting…it’s second nature, not even thought about, you just do it. Reegan did it well; her shifts were smooth as butter.

She came cooking in, piloting a black on red Honda CBR and pulled a reverse wheelie. Then, releasing the front brake, she gingerly dropped the tail of the bike down, and stopped beside the Ninja.

She lifted her visor. There were those endless green eyes.

“Hello love…”

She revved her bike…vrrrm vrrrm…

Collins Rhōg

Cambire, The Story continues in the SedonaEye.com. Some SedonaEye.com scenes have been edited due to content. Look for the unedited Cambire, The Story, available at booksellers and retailers in the fall of 2015 to be published as Change of Allegiance.

For the best Arizona news and views, read www.SedonaEye.com daily!

For the best Arizona news and views, read www.SedonaEye.com daily!

1 Comment

Leave a Reply

Copyright © 2008-2017 · Sedona Eye · All Rights Reserved · Posts · Comments · Facebook · Twitter ·