Hard Sacrifice (Savage Saviors MC Book 4) Page 8

  “And what if I did?” I said suddenly. “What if I went back to him? Seriously?”

  Tara, taken aback by this, paused as she laid the pizza out in the kitchen, letting the smoke gently waft off. She wasn’t smelling the cheese and toppings, though; she was trying to sniff out the seriousness of my statement.

  There was no tomfoolery in it. It was complete truth.

  “I’d be keeping such a close eye on him, you’d have to call me Tara Sherlock, I’d be like a detective on his ass,” she said. “I’d monitor his every movement. If he thinks he’s gonna charm you back, I’ll catch his sorry ass in a heartbeat.”

  She sighed as she slammed a pizza cutter into the pie, obviously demonstrating some unexpressed frustrations with my questions.

  “But if he was good? If he genuinely did just fuck up one night and loves you?”

  She looked at me, even as the pizza cutter went onto the counter top and past the pizza.

  “I’d be behind you, girl.”

  Then she dropped the pizza cutter and came up to my face, not quite a threat, but more to emphasize her point.

  “But I don’t believe that’s the case. I think he’s just like the rest of them assholes. Looking for a fuck—they just want to know if they have to pay us in cash or pay us in time. Derek sure seemed the exception, and he might be. But I ain’t believin’ it and you should be careful.”

  She doesn’t trust any man.

  Not that I can blame her with her life. Not that I can blame her when all you know of men is them berating you and calling you a slut—and then proving it with their wallet.

  I just wish she could see, just a little…

  “OK, thanks,” I said.

  I heard the door open, followed by a familiar Southern accent mumbling a joke and a deep laugh from a husky male voice that I didn’t recognize.

  “Now ya get yer sexy ass upstairs, ya hear?” Matty said, presumably to his catch for the night. “I gotta check up on the gals here, make sure they’re holdin’ tight.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  “Yer damn right.”

  I heard the sound of lips kissing, drawing a slight feeling of jealousy. I wish that was Derek with me.

  Damn. I guess I really do want him back, huh?

  A few seconds later, I heard a loud slap—presumably an ass slap—followed by one set of feet going up the stairs. Matty headed to the kitchen, taking a deep inhalation of the pizza as he stepped inside.

  “Ya look like yer got yerself some nice sausage there,” he said. “But not as nice as the sausage I’m bout to pork!”

  “Oh my god, fag,” Tara said.

  “Hi, whore,” Matty retorted.

  It still made me cringe to hear them say that, even if they were the nicest people to each other otherwise.

  “Whose the toy tonight? More of a Power Ranger or a bucket for you to—”

  “I’m the boss, didn’t ya hear?” Matty said with a delightful grin. “I’mma have some fun with this one. All day, works at a prison. Bosses around people. He’s someone who needs to unwind by openin’ up, if ya catch my drift.”

  “And you ain’t even paying for anal,” Tara said with a sigh.

  “Damn straight! Perks of bein’ a fag, whore—I get all the dick I want, and I ain’t gotta feel guilty in the slightest!”

  He looked at me, a big cocky grin on his face, but one that became a little more sympathetic and soft.

  “I’m sorry ya have to hear our filthy mouths, Eve,” Matty said. “This is—”

  “It’s fine,” I said, but I did want something from him that wasn’t quite so potty-ish. “Can I talk to you for just a couple minutes, though?”

  “Ahh, fuck, can ya make it one?” Matty said. “I’mma bout to burst through these here jeans if my cock can’t jam in—sorry, if I can’t go upstairs and meet my boy for the evening.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said, grabbing him by the arm, trying not to notice the obvious bulge in his pants, even with the massive jeans he had on.

  Funny how something from Derek can so excite and arouse me, yet from Matty, I’m playing the “eyes up” game.

  I pulled him into a room as Tara taunted him some more. We both ignored her, knowing the easiest way to get her to be quiet was to just not say anything.

  “OK, go girl,” Matty said.

  “I think I want Derek back, I—”

  “If yer askin’ for datin’ advice, dear, I’m doin’ my best to stay faaaaar away,” Matty said. “I like you and I like him when he ain’t bein’ a goddamn idiot. I ain’t gonna be monkey in the middle between ya two.”

  “I’m not asking you to be,” I said.

  I heard Tara in the other room continuing to mouth off. Thankfully, we both had had plenty of practice tuning her out, so ignoring her persistent complaints about Derek and how he wasn’t great for me and all men who weren’t gay were assholes wasn’t much of a challenge.

  “I just want your assurances that I’m not being an idiot,” I said. “I just want to know that I’m not some weak pushover who is letting Derek into my life and I’m gonna get burned by it.”

  “If yer tryin’ to avoid gettin’ burned by relationships, dear, yer best bet is to never get into one.”

  But then he sighed, knowing that that answer wasn’t enough.

  “Truth be told, Eve, before he met ya, that boy had a goddamn death wish. Damn near suicidal, the way he drank, the way he rode that bike o’ his, the way he liked to taunt death. I always kept it in back o’ my mind that I might have to run the Saviors someday. But there was a Derek I knew before that time, a real special boy. A true man. Not like the boys who are thirty but act like they’re twenty. A real man.”

  He snorted, a gesture I couldn’t quite interpret.

  “That man came back when he met ya,” he continued. “That man is a man any woman would be goddamn lucky to have. So no, yer not bein’ an idiot. Yer a special lady and he’s a good man. Yer gonna have yer challenges, sure, but who ain’t? So if yer askin’ me if it’s smart, I’d say it ain’t stupid.”

  Then he placed a firm but simultaneously gently bear paw on my shoulder and gave a slight shake.

  “And now, if ya ever cockblock me when I got a boy in the house, I’mma have to kick ya out,” he said with a big, shit-eating grin.

  I couldn’t help but smile.

  “Go, go,” I said.

  “Oh, I am!” he said, literally skipping to the stairs and jumping up them two at a time. It was almost absurd to see a man in his fifties moving like a teenager about to have his first time—perhaps it had been some time since he’d gotten off.

  But he could do whatever he well pleased.

  He’d told me enough.

  7

  Derek

  Two days had passed since I had poured the alcohol down the drain, throwing out my bottle of liquor, followed by the dumping of all my beer and even some wine down the drain.

  And…

  I wish I could say it was a clean cut.

  But it really wasn’t that simple.

  Demons had a funny way of fighting back it seemed. It wasn’t like I decided that the demons were defeated and they, realizing that I had finally stood up to them, had decided to crawl away and find someone else to pick on. If anything, they became more emboldened.

  Oh, you want to be sober? You want to be sober at a time when your ex—yes, she’s your ex—refuses your return? You saw how it was. You showed up at your best friend’s place where she’s staying and she refused any and all of your words.

  And that was when they were being kind.

  Perhaps the most insidious part of it was that the demons in my head had a way of disguising themselves as me. When they spoke to me, it’s not like they sounded like Darth Vader with a cold. They sounded just like the worst side of me, telling me the “blunt truth” and refusing to give any indication it wasn’t my own self-rationalization.

  The only way I could tell, which way was enough, was my own action f
rom two nights before.

  I had not dumped that liquor out in a possessed state. I had not gone mad—although maybe I had acted out of mad love—and made a decision I had regretted. I had acted rationally, in my best long term interests, and with Eve in mind.

  For that reason and not really anything else, I was able to resist the demon.

  But fuck… it was hard!

  Alcohol had been my numbing comfort for so long, especially after Maggie’s death, that I had to find new sources of comfort—none of which really did the trick. I tried coffee, but that kept me up so late that first night that I swore that wasn’t happening again. I tried meditation, but my mind may have been too hyper for even that.

  Pretty soon, I gave up and just had to accept that I would be in a perpetual state of discomfort.

  But that’s what love was, right? Sacrificing your state of comfort for an eternity of comfort with the one you loved?

  That was the thought I told myself, at least. It sure seemed like the path that my parents had followed and that even I had followed with Maggie.

  Or maybe I was just putting a positive spin on the past.

  Because on this second night, I reached a breaking point

  Enough time had passed. I needed to go see Eve again.

  I knew that when I saw her, I’d have to confess every foible, every flaw, every moment of embarrassment I’d ever had. There could be no holding back, no more pretending to be gruff, no more dismissal of the tough questions. If I loved Eve like I loved Maggie, then I had to treat Eve like I treated Maggie. Even if circumstances had changed, even if my life was fully entangled with the Black Falcons now, there was no escaping the need for full honesty.

  Even if I had to share my darkest secrets, that’s what I’d do.

  “Well, demons,” I said as I stood up from my chair, heading to the elevator. “You win in one way. You’re getting me to go before three days have passed. But, you know, I’ve never really been one for rules, so fuck you.”

  I laughed to myself, but I was actually surprised to find myself a nervous wreck. At least I could say that I was no longer interested in making myself an actual wreck—sobriety would go a long way to helping that. I suppose if I had to be some kind of wreck, the nervous kind was the best.

  The elevator came to the bottom, the doors slid open in their usual never-fast-enough motion, and I made a beeline for my bike. No one was going to stop me, not even myself—if I could help it.

  I had the ignition started before I’d even swung my far leg over. It almost made me stumble for half a second, but I was not about to fall today. No, today I was going to drive with the proper aggression to get to my girlfriend—yes, my girlfriend—in a prompt manner but without the suicidal risk I had seemed so taken to in recent days.

  I sped out of the parking lot, slowing down right at the turn to make sure all clear, and sped into the night, the wind pushing against my face like the demons in my mind—present and pressing, but nothing compared to my will to move forward.

  I got to Roost’s house, noticing the blinds drawn—that was definitely a move by the girls, as Roost never drew the blinds on his house. It was as if he was trying to say two things at once—the first was “hello, world, look at what I got!” and the second was “I don’t give a fuck if ya see me, not like the pink house ain’t noticeable” by keeping his blinds open. So, with some relief, it was nice to know that if Eve wasn’t home, someone else was.

  And Eve will be home. You know why? Because she’s not a whore. Contrary to what your idiot mind may have believed, she’s not going to just go back to a life of prostitution because it makes money. Or because she’s “always been this way.”

  I mean, really, Derek, that was the lie you fell for? Can you at least not be so damn gullible when you next see Chuck or one of the Falcons?

  I paused just for a few seconds when I pulled into the driveway, going over what I wanted to say in my head. Hi Eve, it’s Derek. Hey Eve, how’s it going? Heeeeey, long time no see, I—

  Oh this is ridiculous. Just go and you’ll figure it out. Eve ain’t gonna take back an overthinker like you.

  I cut the light to my bike, paused to admire the night sky, and went to the front door. I took a deep breath, told myself it was OK, and knocked as loudly as I could.

  And then I heard Eve scream.

  The worst came to mind. A Falcon having come to rape, assault, or murder Eve. An armed robbery. Torture.

  Oh fuck! Oh fuck! I thought. Fuck this!

  I took half a step forward, chambered my right leg up, and slammed it on the door, good neighbor be damned—Roost’s door could get replaced, but Eve’s life could not.

  The door shot open, splinters spraying out in all directions as the lock burst through the woodwork. I scanned the room quickly, my right leg back in preparation to deliver some strikes if need be. My fists curled up. I growled as I prepared for battle.

  “Derek?”

  “What?” I shouted, trying to locate Eve. “Eve? Where are you?!?”

  Then a blinding light came on and I shielded my eyes. I quickly recovered, squinting into the blinding light.

  My eyes recovered just in time to see Eve moving forward with a baseball bat.

  “Woah, woah, woah!” I said, raising my arms in self-defense.

  Thank heavens Eve had better control of herself than I ever did, because when she recognized my face, she lowered the bat.

  “Eve? What’s wrong?” I asked, stepping closer. “Is someone here? Why do you have the bat?”

  “Wha-what?” she stammered, blinking up at me in confusion. “What do you mean? Other than you? No?”

  Does she think I was the intruder?

  I mean, I did kick the door down.

  “I heard you scream,” I said, staring down at her, seeming to mirror my confusion. This was kind of funny in a bit of a twisted way… but at least she was safe. That was what mattered.

  “Because of you,” she said, shaking her head. “You scared the shit out of me!”

  She pointed to the door. Damn, I had done some damage on it. Roost is going to kill me. And that AC bill is gonna go through the roof. Or, you know, out the door.

  “Damn… I thought you were in trouble, so… yeah…”

  My face fell into my hands. To say I was embarrassed was a bit of an understatement. On the one hand, I had definitely heard her scream, and going to rescue her was something I had no regret about.

  But on the other hand… was Roost really going to get robbed? Was anyone really stupid enough to come here, of all places, perhaps only less safe than my apartment? Boy, really should have thought this one through.

  And then Eve began to laugh.

  The laughter evolved to cackles, and they just kept rolling out until she fell forward, heaving and holding her sides as she tried to stifle them. This, however, only resulted in even more giggles.

  “G-good God, Derek!” she said in between fits of laughter. “You… you… you went all action hero in here! Oh my God, you… you…”

  “Yeahhh, I could have planned this a bit better,” I said.

  At least she’s laughing.

  At least she’s really, genuinely, sweetly laughing.

  I let her go like this for what felt like a full minute before she finally stood up, a grin on her face that gave me a sort of guarded optimism. I didn’t want to assume anything, but…

  “Listen, so—”

  “What the ever-loving—WHAT THE FUCKING SHIT HAPPENED TO MY GODDAM DOOR?”

  Uh oh.

  It’s not Eve I should have worried about.

  It’s…

  Tara roared as she stormed into the room carrying a large metal baseball bat—very much more dangerous than then wooden one Eve had. That one would not break when it hit my skull, but rather, the other way around.

  “Uhhhhhhhh…” I said, completely unsure of what to say. “Your door?”

  Wrong answer.

  “Damn straight while I’m here! That better�
�ve been the biggest fucking ‘uhh’ in the goddamn world!” Tara growled, starting to investigate the extent of the damage.

  Yep, I’m screwed. Better hope Eve is on your side now, buddy.

  “Do you have any idea—Jesus fuck… Derek! Fucking hell! You son-of-a-cunt! You couldn’t knock like a regular fucking human being? Who the shit told you to go all Incredible Hulk on my love-hut?”

  “I… uh, I did knock at first… but then, I, uhh I thought I heard…”

  “It was my fault, Tara.”

  Thank God. Eve actually is on your side!

  You might yet get out of this one, buddy.

  “He knocked and… and I was all worked up; I got startled, screamed, thinking it might be Chuck or a Black Falcon, and… well, he must’ve thought that something was wrong, so…”

  Tara groaned as Eve trailed off, slumping against the wall. All of the energy that she’d built up to confront whatever was happening was almost visibly seeped from her as she caught up with what had happened.

  Fine by me. The last thing I needed was to get two different women on my side, let alone one that I had actually called a cunt.

  “Motherfucker…” she sighed, shaking her head at me. “I have half a mind to clock you with this. Not just for what you just did, but for what you’ve done to her for the last week. But I’ll let Eve decide your fate.”

  “Thanks,” I said, trying to give her a nice smile.

  “And I’ll let Matty boy decide your fate for the door.”

  “No thanks for that.”

  Tara didn’t crack a smile, but Eve had to stifle a giggle. Really, all things considered, that was a good outcome for that lame joke.

  “You better be praying to whatever God you believe in, Derek,” Tara said as she stood, stretched, and let the bat clang on the ground. I think she had done it to make a dramatic gesture, but all she had really done was just produce damage to Roost’s floor. “Eve ain’t gonna let you off the hook so easily. I’ve been toughenin’ her ass up, and you ain’t gonna just waltz in here and take her back. No sir, you…”