She made our house no longer home, just a pile of ashes and broken fucking dreams.
“Baby, my small unborn baby. How’s daddy’s little champ?” I breathe as I draw my cold fingers over the small blue teddy bear. These fingers, these cold callous hands they no longer touch in pleasure but pain, that now kill instead of love.
“Hey, my baby.” I pull the bottle of Glenfiddich from my breast pocket taking a deep breath as my hand pull the Iris from inside my cut also. “I played for keeps, baby, and you left me. Now, it’s all nightmares and the itch left for my soul.”
The wind howls out around me, kicking up leaves in a spiral. I close my eyes.
Taking a long pull of the whiskey, it sears its way down my throat, reminding me that I am fucking human. When all I wish for is death.
My head falls back onto the cold, faded, world-worn headstone that is the reminder of what my life could have been like if you had stayed.
“I will sit here daily and look up to the heavens and try to picture what his little laugh would sound like. If he would have my smile and your attitude. Would he like bikes like me or causing drama like his beautiful yet fucking insanely lost Momma. I wanted nothing more than to fucking save you, my baby, and have you stay. If you had stayed, then I wouldn’t be feeling all this hurt. It was love.We had love amidst all the drugs, alcohol and jealously. We were amazing at being fucked-up, baby. Fire and ice are dangerous when mixed together in a toxic setting, but… but I think we could have really made it work.
We knew that we would be insane when we got together, we knew it wouldn’t be easy but you slapped me back in line when it was needed and I pulled you up from the floor always, when the come downs laced from a massive high became too much and you got lost in the hype surrounding us, the drugs and the fire. We still chose to walk the path of destructive love.” Looking up from the cold grass from where the beads of last night’s dew dangle, a tear falls from my eye rolling down my cheek. The pad of my thumb swipes it away fast with force. Emotion pisses me off, makes me feel weak.
Slamming the Bottle of whiskey to my lips and taking all that is left inside the bottle, the burn causes a fire deep in the pit of my belly. Wiping the excess from my lips I kiss the headstone.
“I will continue to be a mess without you. I miss so much from you… the lies, the hate, the fights, the way that you would always blame me. But most of all I missed the way that you made me feel alive, the way you made me fight, the way that you fucked me with not only your body, but your mind. And I miss that I fucking could have been an epic father given the chance.”
We had a bad love, but it was a sweet motherfucking paradise.”
I back my matte black Triumph Bonneville T120 in front of Devils Ink Tattoo studio killing the engine my eyes scan the street up and down, my damn senses always on alert, and my hackles always up pulling the collar from my road worn leather cut up around my neck as I kick the stand down and step from my bike.
The day is grey, and my mood is stretched out over the taste of a drug that my body craves but my messed mind won’t allow. My eyes travel over the street to the woman who is dressed like it’s a summers day with flowers in her hair. Instantly my eyes are draw to her, my heart that hasn’t beaten in years starts to hum and as my fingers long to reach out to her caramel skin. The wind kicks up around them and a small breeze shifts her long hair up and over. Her strands find their way over her face as her eyes meet mine across the street, my body begs me to walk over there to push the strands away so I can stare into those iris's and see what soul lies beneath. I got a small glimpse yesterday and it wasn’t enough. It freaked me out, yes and I haven’t been able to shake her.
She sees me and she sends a small but very real nervous smile my way. Yes, sweetheart, I am a biker. And yes, sweetheart, staying away from me is a great idea. Now, to tell my dick to stay away from you. I roll the thought of her spread naked over my bike through my mind. The sun kissing her skin as my fingers snake around her neck and my other hand holds her hip, while I drive home hard into her pussy.
Fuck me why am I even thinking this shit. Look at her! And look at me!
Fuck it.
I can’t help myself and I send her a wink.
Her cheeks flame red as she pulls at her bangs patting them down around her face.
Walking from the sidewalk, I enter Devils Ink, the small bell ringing over the door. I kick the door shut as the small yet stunning beautiful Timberly barrels down the stairs, her midnight black hair billowing out behind her. Her white cheeks have a pink sheen to them. Her eyes light up when she sees me.Thank god after this morning I thought next time she saw me she may stab me.She throws her arms out and around me as I catch her, a small humph leaving my throat. She is beautiful, and she is my VP’s better half.
“How is he, little lady?” My tone a rasp of smoke and fire sends chills down any women’s spine.
“He is a fucking pain in my ass and you can deal with him. I’m going to have coffee, after last night and this morning. It’s the least you can do,” she blurts out as she walks to the front door her hand on the handle.
Stopping, her eyes zone onto the lady across the street. “Beautiful, right?” Her tone is light but full of questioning that I know all too well.
“Huh?” I try to look puzzled.
“Don’t huh me, 81, you know exactly what.” She walks from the shop leaving nothing but her jasmine scent behind. Taking the stairs two at a time, I reach the loft that smells as sick as it feels. Sweat and drugs mixed with spew and the feral tang of a massive come down that I know all too well.
I’ve been down this road with Ghost once before and I have also walked in his footsteps. It’s hard, it’s fucking horrific and it’s painful. Ghost’s eyes say it all as I enter the room. Fuck, I duck as a glass comes hurling at me.
“If she rang you, you can fuck off!” Ghost screams out as I lean all six feet eight inches of me against the wall. I’m lean, I’m mean, and I am covered in tattoos that the dead man right here covered me in.
I wear nothing but black and the sides of my head are shaved with just a long strip of black hair that runs down the middle of my head and he ties back into a bun. The reaper graces the right side of my shaved skull and a black crow on the left. A reminder that death is always on your shoulder.
“She didn’t fucking call me at all, but she did have my balls for breakfast this morning at the club. Fuck, I didn’t even know you were there last night. I would have sent you home. You fucking know you’re not up for that shit.” My tone is irritated. He’s being a dick and he knows it.
“Oh, and ease up on her. She doesn’t have to clean up after your ass and be here like she is. So, quit being a cock, brother,” I snap out to a pale and clammy Ghost.
Picking up a fresh pack of smokes from the table, I light one up blowing small smoke circles around myself. I sit my massive body down in the chair, crossing my legs over themselves on the end of the bed.
