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I blamed him. Because if it hadn't been for his double standard, I would be whole. If he’d never left me when he found out my lie, I would’ve never been hurt. I’d forgiven his lies. And he’d argue he was already coming back to me, but it was too little too late. That didn’t change what happened either. I was broken. Not just my physical body, my emotional state. As it was, I was jumpy. I was scared. I had nightmares. Nightmares I was being dragged across an old hardwood floor and cut into a million pieces. Not only was it a nightmare, it was also a memory. Trying to wake, I’d only be able to open one eye.
Needless to say, I became an insomniac. I kept my husband up all night fighting. And I wouldn’t let him sleep in the day either. Why should he if I could not? Kingpin tried, but I began to resent him more and more as he tried to placate me. Because I was breaking him. My pain had conquered the outlaw biker when I needed him to be strong. I needed him to tell me to suck it up and go on, but he did not. The bad ass biker Prez had become putty in my injured hands.
And I hated it.
We stopped having sex completely. Because all I could think about was his mistakes. Because while he was out fucking someone, Junebug had been plotting to kill me. And even though I survived, I wished for death on a daily basis.
Soon, Kingpin found every excuse to stay away from me.
“The twins don't even make you happy,” he said one day.
And he was right. The biker was convinced the babies were his because they were twins cause him and his brother were. It was like he had forgotten all about the possibility that the children may not even be his. I hadn’t forgotten. Although, he claimed it didn't matter, with the way we split up before, I no longer believed a word from his lips.
My husband started sleeping in the other room, his music room, all so he could actually sleep. He’d lock himself in. When I found out, I tried to break down the door. Kingpin tried to come back to our bed after that, but I wouldn’t have it.
One night he forced his way in.
“Sky, this ends now,” he said one night in December. “I’m sleeping in my own bed with my Ol’ Lady.”
“I won’t sleep. I’ll keep you up again.”
I wanted him to tell me to get over it, but he said, “So be it.”
When he did find a bit of himself, I hated that too.
Kingpin crawled into our bed and snuggled close, muttering, “You need to get over this. Put it behind you.”
Him telling me to suck it up didn’t feel as good as I thought it would. It pissed me off. Like getting over this was supposed to be easy.
He went on, “We have so much to look forward to. You’ll get there.”
I didn’t agree. We fought. Mostly about whatever mistake he made while we were apart. The women he fucked during that brief time. Eventually I got it out of him it was only one woman. That fact made it so much worse.
“I’ve kept my word,” Kingpin promised he hadn’t made any more mistakes.
When he fell asleep, I paced. The fact he could rest while I couldn’t drove me crazy, literally. Taking his knife, I stabbed him. Not in the chest or anything. His arm. Screaming he woke up alright.
I felt bad and good.
He had to go get stitches and complained. It’d only been one goddamn wound when I had a hundred slices carved into me because of him.
After that, Kingpin never came to bed again. He was there for me in every other way, but when he came home to the Big House, he slept in the music room.
At least I had a relationship with my mother again. She had grown close to my husband’s twin, Bubba who used Kingpin’s real name Beau Strick as a stage name to become rich. My mother had the life that I longed for, a carefree time of her life with a celebrity. Most importantly, she’d not almost been killed by a psychotic whore. Her smile was genuine. I saw her often at Bubba's Brentwood Estate.
Anything to get away from Royal Road. I made all the appearances I was supposed to make as Kingpin's Ol’ Lady. But on my end, it was all a show. Even at our Christmas party, Kingpin wore the ridiculous ugly sweaters for the contest with me. He submitted to all my whims. I’d sit on his lap in his throne, but it was all lies.
“You won’t humiliate me again,” he’d say, if I refused to act like we were okay. Reminding me of all my previous sins.
I knew he’d never let me forget Ralph Getty showed him a video of us having sex. That he’d not only learned of my betrayal, but he also got to witness it in glorious 4K. Kingpin no longer held back all his venom on account of my pitiful state. Sometimes it would slip. I pushed him as far as I could. Any cruel word from him was my reward. Fuel for my self-loathing.
I didn’t think things could get worse.
It was almost New Year’s. Cece’s old nurse, Jassica was back. Her and Pagan were quickly engaged. I knew this, but I didn’t know she would show up to take me to my checkup. Kingpin claimed to have an important matter to attend to. He’d never missed an appointment before. Subsequently, I felt it had to be dire. I enjoyed my visit with Jassica. In Kingpin’s absence, there was no pity. No guilt. Jassica was caring but indifferent. She seemed preoccupied if anything.
Later, I went to the bar to see Leo, as I often did. I couldn’t have her coming over to the Big House and see it trashed from our fights. I liked to break things. Kingpin wouldn’t immediately pick them up. And I couldn’t go to Opry’s place where she was staying because I didn’t like to see them so happy. It served as a reminder of how unhappy Kingpin and I secretly were. Anyway, at Royal Road I had to keep up appearances. Afterall, I wasn’t allowed to feel sad there and embarrass my Ol’ Man, the biker President. Therefore, a weight lifted while I was at the clubhouse. Just pretending to be okay helped me feel better.
That was until Kingpin walked in with another pregnant woman on his arm. Fucking Eve of all people. My greatest fear had been confirmed. I knew instantly who Kingpin’s mistake was. The girl tried to convince us otherwise with her little speech. She said she was getting back with Hallow, but I knew in the pit of my being, her child belonged to Kingpin.
