“Yeah,” I agreed, nodding my head.
“You trust me?” He asked.
“Of course,” I declared.
“Then trust me when I say we will get these motherfuckers,” he declared, as he cupped my shoulder. “We always win, even when it looks like it’s impossible. You know why? Because I’ve lost too much to let anyone else ever take a goddamn thing from me and mine.” He fixed his eyes on me and patted my cheek. “Get that look out of your eyes, Riggs,” he ordered. “Looks like you found your heart, kid. Now, you have to hang on to it.”
I should’ve freaked out with the first part of that sentence but it was the last part that threw me for a loop.
I knew Lauren had become my heart and if I’m being honest I’ve known for a while. I didn’t fight it very hard, a part of me wanted her to be the person I lived for, for her and Pea to be my purpose.
A big part.
But the small part of me knew having them in my life could hurt them. That was the part that was winning now, trumping everything else.
How do you hang on to someone knowing it’s better if you let them go?
What kind of man would that make me if I kept Lauren around just for my benefit? Sure, I could throw a prospect on her but that wouldn’t ease my conscience.
Hang on for what? Purpose? A reason not to be reckless?
Something happens to them, God, if something happens to them I’d really lose my heart. Then, and only then would I lose my purpose.
I turned around, striding toward my bike, ignoring Jack and Blackie’s calls and grabbed my phone from my pocket, dialing Anthony’s number.
“Yo,” he answered. “Where’d you guys go—”
“Don’t tell anyone it’s me,” I interrupted. “I know you’ve got company and shit but think you can sneak out and meet me at the gym?” I asked, as I straddled my bike. He was silent for a moment. “It’s important, Bianci. I wouldn’t ask you otherwise—it’s about Lauren,” I confessed, my own voice sounding very unfamiliar to my ears.
“Give me an hour,” he said.
“Thanks,” I muttered before disconnecting the call.
Bones ran up beside my bike, placing his foot on top of the wheel and gripped the handlebars.
“Where are you running off too?”
“Get out of my way,” I snapped.
“Riggs, I know that fucking look in your eyes. Don’t do something stupid,” he ordered.
And for the first time I wasn’t doing something stupid or reckless. I was doing something worth a damn.
“I’ve got no issue running your ass over,” I shouted over the noise of my engine. Bones knew me well enough to know that when I had something in my head, no one could sway me another way. He grunted as he removed his hand and foot, standing to the side as I peeled away from the mayhem and headed straight to Hell.
The Hell where Kitten wasn’t mine.
I sat on my bike parked in front of Xonerated and waited for Anthony to arrive. I reached into my cut, desperate to take the edge off and pulled out a perfectly rolled joint. I searched the inside pocket of my cut for a lighter and my fingers gripped the lace of Lauren’s panties.
My gift to you. A reminder that dreams come true.
What a fucking nightmare.
I left the panties in my pocket and pulled out the lighter, flicking a flame and lighting up the paper, taking a greedy hit as it burned. I took it from my lips, holding the smoke in, letting it ferment within before exhaling and staring down at the joint in my hand.
Funny how it used to work, how it used to take the edge off and calm my restless ways.
Not this time.
It’s pretty fucking crazy how I went from living life without a care in the world to this shit.
Soon enough my life would go back to the way it used to be.
A life with no worries.
No responsibilities.
Free to do whatever the fuck I wanted, whenever the fuck I wanted.
A life I thought I was meant to live.
One I wanted.
I chose my path.
And here I am, wishing for a motherfucking detour.
Wishing for another way.
Another life.
Regrets?
I had them in spades.
Dreams?
I had those too.
Nightmares?
I’m pretty sure I’m living one right now.
Anthony pulled up in front of the gym and I took another long hit of my joint as he stepped around the car and made his way to my side. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, clipping my joint before tucking it away in my pocket.
“What’s up?” He questioned, crossing his arms against his chest as he scrutinized me.
“Some shit went down today,” I began, blowing out the smoke I held hostage in my lungs.
“Figured that much,” he cautioned, cocking his head to the side, trying to figure me out.
Good luck, brother.
Let me know what you find.