can’t even call it a mistake, it was more than that; it was a fucking cruel, and unnecessary. There isn’t an hour that’s gone by since I haven’t wanted to apologise, beg her to forgive me. But did I? Fuck no! That’s what a reasonable adult would do, and I’m nothing if not unreasonable.
I’ve asked myself a million times why I said that shit to her. Why I practically accused the most amazing woman I’ve ever met of being a slut. Worse still, a slut with a sexually transmittable disease. What the fuck is wrong with me?
In my defence, and I know all too well I shouldn’t bother trying to justify what I did, but truthfully it was the only thing I could think of to do that might buy me some time to rebuild the walls threatening to break open with all the emotion she bought out in me. Could I have done it in a nicer, more considerate way? Fuck yes. Could I have explained to her it was better for her, better for me, not to take it any further than that one night? Abso-fucking-lutely.
My problem was that I was scared shitless she’d see through my explanations, still am, and that she’d see straight to the heart of what my issues are, what I really felt for her. In the end what I did, I did for reasons of self-preservation, to save myself the trouble of explaining to the one woman who sees past my bullshit that I don’t want her, because let’s face it, I do. I want her so much it physically hurts, and Adelyn is nothing if not insightful, she’d know it too. She picks up on every nuance of peoples’ behaviour, reads their facial expressions, their body language in seconds, and she’s fucking spot on with her insights. It’s something I noticed within days of taking her on at the shop. I can only assume her sizing people up because second nature based on the situations she found herself in when she was in foster care.
Realising I’d drifted off to thoughts of Adelyn, again , I’m bought back to the present by an infuriated Boss.
“Are you listening to a goddamned word I’ve said motherfucker?” I don’t answer because honestly I don’t think he’ll want to know I was just thinking about sinking balls deep into a woman that’s akin to his sister. “Yeah, didn’t think so asshole, so I’ll repeat that shit so you get me this time. I fucking said, get your ass up, and over to Ade’s house fucking now. Somethings wrong and I’m still an hour out.”
My brain seems to have had a minor malfunction because I’m sure he just said something’s wrong with Adelyn, but I can’t hear over of the roaring sound of blood in my ears.
“What? What the fuck’s wrong?” I know I sound like a pussy right now, voice shaking and shit, but that doesn’t change the fact that adrenaline thick and fierce is running through my veins catapulting me out of bed faster than ever before.
“Jesus Christ, Reaper. Are you fucking with me? I said something’s wrong with my girl, and I’m an hour out. Been on the road for an hour and a half now, got Diesel and Fury with me. She called about an hour and forty-five ago telling me I needed to get down there. I’ve got no clue what the fuck is going on, and she told me she was safe at home, she’d lock up tight. It’s not that I don’t trust she will lock that fucking house down like no mans’ business, but I want someone on her till we get there. You’re that someone, so move your ass and for fucks sake call me if you get there, and shit’s not right.”
There were so many things wrong with that statement I don’t know where to begin, so like any biker I zone in on the one that set my blood to boiling point.
“She’s not your fucking girl, so watch it yeah? I’m on my bike in five, but when you get here you and I are gonna have us a little chat.”
Not a time for chuckling, but the bastard does anyway.
“Yeah, I think you’re right about that, been a long time coming too. You make sure she’s safe, and not a hair on her
I’ve asked myself a million times why I said that shit to her. Why I practically accused the most amazing woman I’ve ever met of being a slut. Worse still, a slut with a sexually transmittable disease. What the fuck is wrong with me?
In my defence, and I know all too well I shouldn’t bother trying to justify what I did, but truthfully it was the only thing I could think of to do that might buy me some time to rebuild the walls threatening to break open with all the emotion she bought out in me. Could I have done it in a nicer, more considerate way? Fuck yes. Could I have explained to her it was better for her, better for me, not to take it any further than that one night? Abso-fucking-lutely.
My problem was that I was scared shitless she’d see through my explanations, still am, and that she’d see straight to the heart of what my issues are, what I really felt for her. In the end what I did, I did for reasons of self-preservation, to save myself the trouble of explaining to the one woman who sees past my bullshit that I don’t want her, because let’s face it, I do. I want her so much it physically hurts, and Adelyn is nothing if not insightful, she’d know it too. She picks up on every nuance of peoples’ behaviour, reads their facial expressions, their body language in seconds, and she’s fucking spot on with her insights. It’s something I noticed within days of taking her on at the shop. I can only assume her sizing people up because second nature based on the situations she found herself in when she was in foster care.
Realising I’d drifted off to thoughts of Adelyn, again , I’m bought back to the present by an infuriated Boss.
“Are you listening to a goddamned word I’ve said motherfucker?” I don’t answer because honestly I don’t think he’ll want to know I was just thinking about sinking balls deep into a woman that’s akin to his sister. “Yeah, didn’t think so asshole, so I’ll repeat that shit so you get me this time. I fucking said, get your ass up, and over to Ade’s house fucking now. Somethings wrong and I’m still an hour out.”
My brain seems to have had a minor malfunction because I’m sure he just said something’s wrong with Adelyn, but I can’t hear over of the roaring sound of blood in my ears.
“What? What the fuck’s wrong?” I know I sound like a pussy right now, voice shaking and shit, but that doesn’t change the fact that adrenaline thick and fierce is running through my veins catapulting me out of bed faster than ever before.
“Jesus Christ, Reaper. Are you fucking with me? I said something’s wrong with my girl, and I’m an hour out. Been on the road for an hour and a half now, got Diesel and Fury with me. She called about an hour and forty-five ago telling me I needed to get down there. I’ve got no clue what the fuck is going on, and she told me she was safe at home, she’d lock up tight. It’s not that I don’t trust she will lock that fucking house down like no mans’ business, but I want someone on her till we get there. You’re that someone, so move your ass and for fucks sake call me if you get there, and shit’s not right.”
There were so many things wrong with that statement I don’t know where to begin, so like any biker I zone in on the one that set my blood to boiling point.
“She’s not your fucking girl, so watch it yeah? I’m on my bike in five, but when you get here you and I are gonna have us a little chat.”
Not a time for chuckling, but the bastard does anyway.
“Yeah, I think you’re right about that, been a long time coming too. You make sure she’s safe, and not a hair on her
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