I had escaped the Pastore women and found my way upstairs to Blackie’s room. I laid on his bed and thought I’d take a nap but, the scent of his cologne on his pillow made it impossible for me to close my eyes and not think of him.
Everything in this room was a reminder of the one night we shared. The one never to be spoken of again. It wasn’t how I thought I’d lose my virginity, not that I gave it much thought. After sixteen my v-card became more of a nuisance then some sacred thing I needed to hang on to. I’m not sure who is to blame if its society or my parents who sheltered me and made me think I was too good to give it up to just anyone. As a young girl I believed I needed to be in love with someone, that the person who took my virginity needed to be some perfect man I would spend the rest of my life with.
Then I became sixteen and found out I was the only fucking virgin left, or at least that’s what it felt like. All my friends had done it, raved about how great it was and how many orgasms they had—then there was me, the president of the Satan’s Knights daughter. I was crazy and still a virgin. It was unheard of.
Yet still I couldn’t do it.
I couldn’t just give it up to anyone.
My best friend, Noah knew my dilemma and even offered to rid me of my problem.
And as tempting as the offer was, I turned him down.
I think it was my subconscious guiding me, making me wait because the one who eventually took it was the only person to ever see me. It may not have been a fairytale, and it hurt like hell, but I wouldn’t take it back.
None of it.
Not waiting until I found the perfect man.
Not waiting until I was nearly nineteen years old.
I didn’t let anyone else take it because only one man deserved it.
He might regret it; he might be bothered by it but for me it was perfect. Perfect in an imperfect way. The hidden perfect in a shit load of flaws.
Just like the both of us.
Demons and addictions.
Leather and Lace.
Imperfect yet perfect.
My thoughts are interrupted by the commotion coming from the other side of the door. I heard Riggs shout at my father, then call for help. I quickly threw my legs over the edge of the bed and ran to the door. Pulling it open I peeked my head out as my father stalked towards the stairs. The look in his eye was ferocious and I knew even his medicine wouldn’t help him. The maker has taken residence and the crazed look in his eye was the look of a man trying to balance reality and the poisonous fiction his mind was trying to make him believe.
I understand your pain dad.
I see it.
I live it.
“Stop him,” Riggs hollered as he skidded to a halt at the stairs. “Pipe! Wolf!”
I stepped out of the room, tip-toeing the length of the hallway before leaning against the wall as Riggs ran down the stairs, stopping mid-way. I could see my dad trapped on the stairs, his brothers barricading him.
“Get out of my way,” he ordered.
“Jimmy sent the video,” Riggs explained in a huff, handing his phone over to Pipe. What video? I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat, pushing back the grim thoughts of what may be on the video.
Anthony Bianci, one of the mob guys, took Pipe’s place blocking my dad from moving and Pipe hit play. I heard the unmistakable voice that belonged to Jimmy but being on top of the stairs, I could only make out every other word—by the way my father lurched for the phone I knew that motherfucker couldn’t have been delivering good news.
“Jesus Christ,” Pipe said, as Jimmy’s voice sounded stating his demands and threats.
“I will kill him and I’m going to smile as I do it,” my father hissed.
It was so weird to watch my hero of a father turn into a monster of a man. What I was witnessing was different from the manic episodes of the past. I think that’s because this man my father was morphing into wasn’t controlled by the crazy but instead, by the criminal.
“Chapel, now,” Pipe ordered, sternly.
“There’s no fucking time,” my dad yelled.
I closed my eyes, sliding against the wall as the men continued to argue.
“Oh, so you have a plan? Because you’re right we don’t have a lot of fucking time and without a plan we’re fucked. So pull your fucking shit together and grab your gavel,” Pipe replied.
I glanced down at the watch on my wrist, watching as the second hand ticked away and felt fresh tears sting my eyes. For the first time the numbers on the clock weren’t just numbers they were a lifeline.
I know now why people say time is precious, for when it runs out there is nothing and you’re left wishing of all the things you could’ve done, could’ve said…if only you had just one more minute.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Chapter Nine