Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I flip him the bird over my shoulder then reach my hand out to the door knob. Turning it slowly, almost as if I were listening for a click of a booby-trap, I feel the door’s lock give way. Then, as if in a fog, I push it and watch the door swing open to reveal my living room. It all feels so surreal.
Rolling myself forward, I take it all in. Hardwood floors, white walls, black leather couches, and a huge, flat screen TV sit there in my living room perfectly fine, just like the day I left them behind to go on our mission. They aren’t damaged or broken. They don’t have scars to tell me they have been through hell and back.
Is it possible to be jealous of some furniture?
Here I sit, damaged, broken and scarred, and there is my home, sitting as if nothing has happened. How the hell is that fair?
Irrationally, I expected my home to be as changed as I am.
It isn’t.
Turning my gaze toward the small dining area that flows to an open kitchen, I keep taking it all in. I can’t even find a speck of dust to show me the place has been neglected in my absence. Clean floors, a tidy dining room table, and a variety of food and drinks are out on the counter. Even the glass on the windows is sparkling. What kind of shit is that?
Maybe I am supposed to be appreciative of the fact that the biker bunnies, or maybe my brothers, have cleaned the place up for me, but I’m not. A man needs to feel essential in life. I realized in the hospital that, unless I get the use of my legs back, I’m no longer essential to the Regulators. Now I come home to see that even my fucking home doesn’t need me.
Is there anyone who needs me now?
Unable to handle all the facets of how my life has possibly changed forever, I angrily roll my chair forward. Snagging the unopened bottle of whiskey sitting on the breakfast bar, I ignore Evan’s protests and keep rolling my chair until I reach my bedroom.
I slam the door shut, sending a direct message that I just want to be left the fuck alone, before rolling my chair over to the large window that has a view of the highway connected to our development and the ocean beyond that. Here, I sit in my new prison, and out there is all the freedom that I may never have again.
Opening the bottle, I throw my head back, taking a hefty swig of the strong liquor. After taking a few swallows, I hold the bottle in my lap, keeping my gaze on the view before me.
It’s a sick sort of self-punishment, but sitting here in the dark, trapped in my rolling cage with the alcohol I’m not supposed to be drinking, is the only thing in the world I feel like I have left at the moment.
There was a time after I went in the Army that my mother started to ask me when I was going to find a nice girl and settle down. My answer to her was always the same: I would settle down when they laid me in the ground. I guess I can call her now and tell her I’m halfway settled down now, whether I like it or not … and my girlfriend has wheels.
Taking a few more hard swallows of whiskey, I let the alcohol start to soak into my system. This is my new reality. And I thought war was hell. How wrong I was.
~Desirae~
(One Month Later)
“How’s it going, Tank?” I ask before he begins his workout.
“We’ve got nothing, Des.” He drops his head. “Whatever she was in on, they’ve covered their tracks. Other than Nino being her man for a few months, there’s no trail.”
“Oh,” is all I can manage. I don’t know how to accept that there is no way to sort out what happened to Suzie. I need to know why. I need closure.
He begins to move into the gym area where we normally train. Only, I don’t follow.
He turns back to me.
“Tank, I know y’all are working hard to sort out the mess my sister got herself into. I know staying here is to keep me safe.”
“Park your car, Des. Land your plane. Woman, just tell me what you need to say for fuck’s sake. Obviously, you’ve got something on your mind.”
“I’m going stir crazy.”
He makes his way back over to me. “It’s not safe out there for you anymore.”
“What about, like, witness protection?”
“The cops didn’t even offer you that. The Hellions will keep you safe.”
“I can’t live my life held up here on the compound. I appreciate the safety precaution, but I need somewhere to go. I need to start over. I can’t go to the grocery store. I can’t pick up my mail. And staring at the same walls everyday just reminds me why I can’t live my life out in the open. I’m living in a never-ending nightmare of my sister being murdered and not understanding why. I don’t know how much more I can take.”