Page 26 of Bleed Me

“FYI, I’ve already done that.” He glared as if to insinuate he was speaking of me. “Twice may kill me. So, go ahead. Keep being a dick.”

Incredibly twisted up inside, I grabbed my water and gulped it down. I was taking the last sip when a little hand reached over my shoulder to set down another. Blue nail polish. I watched her arm as she set it down, then took the empty from my hand. I didn’t even try and get a glance. I knew she was already walking away.

Noticing the strained silence between me and her, Art watched her go. “Did you already fuck that?”

“That? She’s human, ya know. And no, I haven’t. I don’t even know if it’s,” with regret, I whispered, “safe to have sex with me.”

Art’s eyes closing told me how much he pushed what I was from his mind. It was the only way to survive it. We loved Delilah so much. He must have fought the devil daily to let me live. “Do you have any actual memories of what happened yet?”

I answered, “No. V giving any more deets?”

“Nah. Tight-lipped as can be.”

Feeling like I was once again in an alternate universe, I exhaled. “Okay, gimme some pointers.” I picked up my fork and stuffed my face with food. There was nothing else to do but move on. So, I decided to do just that.

It’s amazing what you finally see, right in front of you, when you surrender. The room I was in was full of conversation, joy over present company, and the delicious meal, but many eyes rested on me. I had been so lost in my own misery that I was missing all the souls waiting for me to join them. As I stared back at them all, I silently promised to do my best to fit in and be worthy of their wait.

The sun beating down on my tired neck was only worsening my hangover. My head felt as heavy as a bag of dry cement when Diesel approached, his head appearing just as heavy. Next to me was a row of motorcycles I soon would be instructed to wash as punishment for puking on my Sergeant at Arms’ shoes.

Diesel’s eyes squinted behind his dark sunglasses. “This,” he gestured about, “was the best I could do to give her your freedom.”

The sun beat down on me… “I meant what I said. Thank you for trying.” I gazed around to see the barbed wire gate rolling open, preparing to let Diesel drive off into the late afternoon sun. “It ain’t the first time I’ve needed to adjust to a new home.”

From across the gravel yard, a building stood with large garage doors. In a couple of car bays, bikers worked on bikes, quietly, watching me. Others pretended to be in conversation while smoking cigarettes, but eyes still rested on me. I wondered what they saw. At the time, I was too naïve to comprehend what a gift Diesel had given me. There may never be another Prospect to waltz into a club at the level I was entering. Very powerful men were watching over me. Surrounding patches were wondering if I was worth it.

Diesel pulled me into a rugged embrace. In my ear, he whispered, “Make her proud.”

I grabbed the leather on his back, silently begging him to not go… then with my breath held, holding in everything crashing inside me, I let go.

Yes, I would see him again, but I would no longer be Kenny in his eyes. Most importantly, I wouldn’t be in mine either.

Scorch shook my hand. “Hang in there, kid. We’re rootin’ for ya.” Then he loaded into the SUV.

Even though we both had busted lips, Art hugged me. Pulling away from me, he was smiling and bitch-slapped my face. “I hope you like your new road name.”

Just then, another bike roared into the compound. Though Art’s eyes were locked on the bike, the driver with a full helmet and dark visor didn’t glance at him once.

I watched him back away toward his ride home, still not looking at me, and asked him, “How do you know what my road name is?”

He slipped into the backseat. “Because I came up with it.” He shut the door and tapped the headrest in front of him.

Not one of the three men who dropped me off looked back as they pulled away. The gate rolled shut, and the dirt from the gravel road floated into the air to cover their tracks I wasn’t meant to follow.

Talk about your gut doing flips. I think my soul was doing flips, too. It was hard to tell which way was up or down. Was the earth at my feet? Or was I completely upside down?

In a circle, and in shock, I turned to try and understand where I now stood. The garage… Trees… Hills… Hard rock dirt… Trees… Dirt… More bikes… Gravel…

I kept turning, even facing the building where I now lived. It looked like an old Spanish fort. Light beige stucco walls had arches in front of the doors. There was a sitting area with concrete tables that resembled ancient versions of picnic tables in the front of the big building.

I kept turning…

The rest of the sitting areas were in the back for protection of possible retaliation. There were no neighbors that I could see beyond the compound’s confinement, but there were houses off in the distances. All fenced in.

I kept turning…

Everyone watched…

Including the biker in the dark helmet.

As if a beacon, I stopped and stared back. I had a hunch—a strange, undefined feeling of recognition that could only be answered by the divine, but I knew this person was the epitome of strength as she finally took off her helmet.