“Why are you doing this?” I sobbed, staring into Jack’s eyes, a man who lived off of violence. One percenter. Outlaw. The man who held a gun to my head last night when he lost his mind.
“I’m telling you the truth because you deserve it. Because I know I don’t deserve you. All this shit, these lies, they brought you into my life and I’ve decided that I want to bury the lies and keep you in my life. You’re right, reality can’t be built on lies. But it’s our beginning and I won’t let it be our ending, even two lost souls like us deserve a happy ending,” he said hoarsely. “I’ll give you a happy ending, Reina, you just gotta let me. Give me a chance and I’ll make it good for you, I’ll give you everything I got. Every-fucking-thing because I know I’m not worthy and I know you deserve better,” he solemnly swore. “You brought sunshine into my world, and now it’s my turn to give it back.”
Lies.
Happiness was the biggest lie of all.
The doorbell rang and someone banged ferociously on the door, sparing me of having to respond to Jack and his promise to fix all he broke with his lies. His truth was the dagger that sliced my heart, tearing it into shreds.
He cursed, stepping around me and pulled open the door.
“Now’s not a good time,” he hissed.
“Too fucking bad, gave you twenty-four hours to wallow in your shit,” Blackie said, pushing past Jack and walking into the house.
I wiped at my face and pulled Jack’s shirt down my thighs, wishing I could disappear.
“See you found your man. Thanks for keeping my car in one piece,” he said, as his eyes took in my tear stained face. He turned abruptly and glared at Jack. “What the fuck did you do?”
“Mind your fucking business,” he barked.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, we don’t have time for a lovers fucking quarrel, brother,” he bit out.
Jack stared over Blackie’s shoulder at me.
“Take Reina home,” he ordered his brother.
“I don’t need anyone to take me anywhere,” I replied.
“Either he drives you home or I do,” he demanded.
“Fine,” I turned my gaze to Blackie. “Give me a minute to grab my things.”
He sighed, looking back and forth between me and Jack before nodding curtly.
“Five minutes,” he affirmed, crossing his arms against his chest.
I nodded and started for the stairs when Jack grabbed my arm, forcing me to turn around.
“You…” he whispered, “…you own me, Reina, all of me. Even the parts I thought died a long time ago.”
He lifted my hand and placed it over his chest, over his heart. I felt it beating beneath my hand. A beating heart was alive inside of him and the rhythm of those beats belonged to me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Blackie stared at me silently as I walked toward the dining room table and picked up a pack of Marlboros.
“Got a light?” I asked, pushing the cigarette between my lips as I walked passed him to the front door. He followed me outside, sitting beside me on the stoop and produced a lighter from his pocket. I handed him the pack of cigarettes and he took one for himself.
“You want to talk about that?” He questioned, looking over his shoulder toward the door.
“What’s the point? You probably know more about my actions than I do,” I muttered.
“Not talking about your breakdown, talking about your woman,” he commented, taking a pull of his cigarette. “I was wrong about her, you know,” he offered, causing me to turn and stare at him.
“How’s that?”
“Guess you didn’t listen to your messages yet,” he grunted. “Gold came by the clubhouse unannounced,” he said, raising his eyes to mine. “Gotta tell you man, you should probably wife that one,” he said seriously, as he blew out a ring of smoke.
“She was there when Gold came by?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “Why the hell was she still there?”
“What part of unannounced didn’t you comprehend? It's fine, Jimmy thinks she’s just a club whore. She didn’t ask questions, just did as I told her—but she saw some shit,” he added, turning his attention toward the street.
“What kind of shit?” I asked, clenching my fist.
“Gold didn’t like I was the man delivering the product, said he didn’t trust me. As an act of good faith he forced me to sample the H,” he admitted, running his fingers through his hair roughly and flicking his cigarette into the street before turning his eyes back to me. “Wifey saw me with a needle in my arm and didn’t run away, she just ran right to you.”
The blood in my veins ran cold as I studied Blackie, watching as he lifted his sunglasses, giving me a view of the dark circles that shadowed his bloodshot eyes. He slowly rolled up his sleeve and flicked his forearm in search for the bruised vein.
“No sweat, just once, didn’t even leave much of a mark,” he ground out.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you deal with that prick by yourself,” I responded. “I’m making a mess of things, letting everything with Jimmy get the best of me for months now.”