Pieces of the night with LoneStar flash through my mind. The way he encouraged me to take a leap of faith. To believe in myself. To take a chance.
“Okay, let’s do this,” I say, making the title page, using bold letters before setting up the template I’ll use to work the story. I use my usual front matter, copyright, dedication, acknowledgments, and start a character bible—which is what we call a list with all of the character names that’ll be used in our book. When I get to the prologue, everything begins to flow out of me, starting with‘Once upon a time’.
Before I know it, it’s four in the morning and my eyes are droopy, dry, and crossing. I’ve gotten a damn good start, five chapters’ worth. I have a knight in shining armor which LoneStar is the imaginary muse for. My blustering hero in this lore. My heroine’s salvation. The only man I know who could pull off what my champion will be faced with. The hard nosed heroine, which of course is fabricated around me, and the villains, fictionalized versions of my parents.
As always, I’ll envision them when my protagonist gets his pound of flesh. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve ‘unalived’ my parents in one of my novels. They have to be fictitiously conquered since I can't do it in real life. At least not unless I want to live out the rest of my life behind bars and dressed in an orange jumpsuit.
And with my skin tone, that would be a disaster.
I shut things down and head indoors, using the facilities, and falling face first into my pillow. I wish I could remember my dream because if I had, it would’ve prepared me for what was coming after me.
CHAPTER
SIX
LoneStar
I tryto go on as if it’s business as usual, but my mind keeps wandering down a road to thoughts of Britton and the circumstances surrounding her taking off. What if our one night together has consequences neither one of us is prepared for? Will she come back if that happens, or will she hide it from me? If she does, may Lucifer himself have mercy on her soul because I’ll have none for her. Whenever anger strikes, I remind myself that she didn’t run because of potential pregnancy, she hauled ass because she lied and couldn’t face me after doing so. Thinking that way should help and keep me from losing my shit, but even the mere thought of having a kid out there fatherless, has me seeing life through a red haze of indignation.
Slayervolun-toldme he was my new riding partner this morning before taking my turn of pressuring Patrick to come out and play—something, up until now, he hasn’t done. We’ve set the bait on the hook, we just need him to nibble on it so we can reel him in. As we park at the corner of the street and shut off our bikes, I glance Slayer’s way, waiting for him to say whatever it is heneeds to so I can put my attention where it needs to be, on this job, not dissecting my emotions and temperament.
Finally, he speaks up, demanding more than asking, “Wanna tell me what’s got your balls in a bunch? You’ve been stomping around and barking at anyone who tries talking to you. If something hurts you, it hurts us. Stop bottling it up and spit that shit out, LoneStar.”
“You here to play therapist, Slayer?” I ask, grinding my jaw.
“If that’s what you need me to be, then yeah, I guess I am. But first of all, I’m your friend, your brother, and no matter what, your ally. You’ll never catch judgment from me unless you’ve done something stupid that’ll blow back on the club,” he states.
“If I was to do something stupid that’d come back on the club, I’d have told y’all already, Slayer. I’m a man, not a boy playing one, I take responsibility for my actions,” I say, seething.
“Never said you were or you did, LoneStar,” he grits out, narrowing his eyes at me. “Pay attention to what I’m saying before spewing off at the mouth.”
“Fucking hell,” I mumble, closing my eyes and inhaling, counting to ten, then exhaling. Once I feel somewhat centered, I turn my attention to him and begin spilling my guts. I begin with the first time I set eyes on her and how she drew me in like a moth to the flame, and I end with her tucking her tail and scurrying away like a wounded animal. It all spills out, every gruesome detail down to my feelings and shit.
Slayer whistles, shaking his head. “That’s a lot of shit to hold inside, LoneStar.”
“It’s personal, not club business, I’ve been trying to deal with it on my own,” I grouse. “Like I’ve said, I’m a big boy, I don’t need my brothers holding my hand or coddling me.”
“I don’t know a single brother who’d coddle you, asshole,” Slayer mentions. “But we’d hold your hand if you really wanted us to.” He dramatically flutters his eyelashes at me and puckers his lips.
“Asshole,” I mumble. “What would you do if it was you in my predicament?”
“Give her time,” he says, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “From what you’ve said, her childhood was shit. She’s struggling with doing something that isn’t her norm. She needs some distance and time to get her head out of her ass and face the consequences of her actions.”
“How much time?” I ask, crossing my arms across my chest and scowling at him.
He didn’t necessarily tell me what I wanted to hear, but the thing about that is, I’m not sure what I wanted him to say that’d appease me. It’s not like there’s an easy answer to this dilemma I’m in, no matter how much I wish there was.
“However much time it takes,” he answers around a sigh. “I wish I had all the answers to the questions you have, but this is a tricky situation. The human mind is a mystery, not all of us think the same way.”
“I know that,” I spit out, snapping at him. “I do, Slayer. But I… I can’t let this go. Not until I know if there’s a baby or not.”
“You wouldn’t be a good man like I know you are if you did,” he announces. “You can give her a few weeks to wrap her head around shit though, LoneStar. If she is expecting, it’s too early toknow yet, give her a chance to do the right thing before you track her down and cart her back to town.”
“I won’t be carting her anywhere, I’ll bring her back kicking and screaming and tying her to me for life,” I avow.
“Are we talking about a shotgun wedding?” Slayer asks, not looking amused but worried for my sanity.
“If that’s what it takes to keep her with me, then yes, we are,” I validate.
