by D. M. Burns
Collectively, I’ve pulled back and respected her choice to break away from me. Giving her the space and time, she rightfully deserves but that shit’s wearing thin. At the very least, I deserve the truth. Getting that is pivotal for me. A large part of who I am is a fact-finding fucker, period.
“Renegade…” I look up to see Jake heading my way. I grit my teeth.
“I don’t have a lot of time to shoot the shit. Got places to be Sellers.” I keep my pace up as I move my ass through the hallway heading for the parking lot. Rage is right. There’s something off with this guy.
“Just wanted to let you know that Stacks was in a car accident.” I stop and give my undivided attention to the prick. Stacks is one of the best players on our football team and a damn good guy. This shit is bothersome.
“He alright?” I ask.
“Busted up his knee. He won’t be able to play ball anymore. He’s at Monroe County Hospital. Figure you might wanna know. Me and some of the other guys are gonna drop by today.”
“Alright, yeah. I’ll swing by the hospital on my way home. Have you by chance seen Asia today?” I ask. She wasn’t here yesterday and I haven’t seen her at all today.
“Now that you mention it, no. She wasn’t in third period. We share that class.” Jake rubs the back of his neck.
“Thanks,” I say. Jake claps me on the back then takes off.
Stepping out of Stacks hospital room, I weave my way through the hall. I can’t help but feel sorry for the guy. His life revolved around football. That was his ticket to college. Tough break. No chance of that shit now with a busted-out knee though. At least he’s making adjustments and filtering through other avenues and options for a successful future.
When I make a sharp turn for the elevators, my eyes land on Asia. She’s being wheeled out of one of the rooms by a nurse. My first instinct is to take off down the hallway, pull her into my arms and dare anyone to fucking touch her. Then her mother rushes out of the room following right behind, hot on the heels of the nurse.
Ducking back out of eyeshot, I observe the nurse as she talks to Asia’s mother. Asia stares at her hands the entire time, mute. Her hair is in a messy bun with the little to no give a shit’s in effort due to the current circumstances. Her face looks like she’s been crying non-stop, eyes puffy and swollen. Her normally tan skin tone is clammy and pasty white. She doesn’t bother to respond to anything going on around her, eyes focused on nothing but blank space. A silent fixture of detachment and sorrow. What the fuck?
Asia’s visual state is not what bothers me the most though, no. It’s the dead mood in the air around her that kickstarts my damn heart into palpitations. Hammering at an unhealthy rate. This is the perfect place to have an adverse reaction. The entire scene in front of me stirs up awareness for the evident shit situation I stumbled upon. The atmosphere is thick with sorrow. Suffocating the air out of me from a distance. I can’t imagine how Asia is feeling.
When they all file into the elevator, something from Asia’s mother's purse falls onto the floor. I start to move that way as the doors close. Picking the pamphlets up off the floor, I’m rooted to the spot at the information laid out in black and white. My hand trembles as I read the abortion topic outlined accompanied by the hotline help information. No. No. No. Wait a god damn minute.
Scrubbing my face with the pad of my hand, I will my mind to calm the fuck down. My anger is topping out in a rush of confusion and disgust. Trying to grapple with understanding that’s just not within my grasp. I grip the back of my neck, pacing the floor back and forth. Focusing on the ceiling while trying to scrape off some type of clarity from the white tiles above my head. Like it has the power to drop the fucked reasoning behind her decision to do this onto my face. But most importantly alone, without me. Why?
This is what drove her to all her sideway decisions over the last couple of months. Why not just talk to me? ME. I get that it’s the woman’s body that endures all the changes. What I never understood though was their choice being the only relevant one. Without my dick, there would be no choice at all to be made.
What about the fucking father in question? We have a right to know and be informed. There are decent and worthy men out here, like me. What about us god damnit? My choice should’ve mattered too. It was our baby, not just hers. She knew all along and kept it from me. Deceitful bitch. She took that choice from me, stolen truths, life.
More importantly, WHAT ABOUT THE BABY? It was innocent in all of this. That tiny soul was significate and damn well mattered to me. I would’ve demanded that we keep it, fuck yes. If she didn’t want the task, fine. I would’ve gladly taken MY responsibly on like a god damn man should, no questions asked. Asia could take the fuck off. She could go live her basic bitch existence somewhere else.
None of that really matters now because I had no choice, no voice. Just like our child didn’t. Jabbing the elevator button, I will the motherfucker to hurry. If I don’t get out of here soon the Hate Wars building up inside of me for the life that I lost today will explode. Taking this god damn place down around me with a Renegade type of retribution unrivaled.
This is not going to end well for Asia. My conflicted warzone is extreme bringing my violence to life, deadly aggression. Hate Wars has been activated and my target just happens to be the one that I love. Fuck her.
chapter 20 - asia
Waking up to find my bed empty with only me in it bottomed my heart out but Renegade warned me. He said that he’d take off and I guess to a certain extent I understand his need to flee. The man’s cagey at best and absolutely does not trust me as far as he can throw me. All of that is one hundred percent understandable too. I get it. I hurt him.
Last night was perfect though. Having that man in my arms felt like the welcome homecoming my body and mind were waiting for. Even if Ren doesn’t talk to me again that moment in time with him was worth it. He’s probably plotting out a new Renegade Revenge list of evil acts to invoke on me until his dick demands sexual relief again.
You’d think that I’d be a smart woman and run from this crash and burn fatality of fucks waiting to happen. You’d also be wrong. I’ll take whatever he’s willing to offer up. Like a hungry child begging for scraps. The conflicted war that’s behind the gunmetal stare is real. I see the battle zone.
Ren runs cold then hot. It’s like flipping on and off a faucet at random. A toss-up of the Joker’s coin in the air with indecision on a heads or tails landing. He stumbles back and forth between hating my guts or the compulsion for keeping me for himself. Silly girl that I am, I wait for his decisions like a desperate dumbass with a sick need for anguish built in.
Sadly enough, that’s the place in life that I’m at. Settling for bits and pieces of him. Scrounging around my own shit leftovers of the man that I broke and created. None of which house the good-natured parts of Renegade that I so desperately want to revive. My well-deserved penance. My choices. My Renegade. Mine over Matter.
This will lead to a dysfunctional savage death for what’s left of my heart and soul, this much I know. The pulse underneath the skin was barely alive anyway. Why not, right? I gladly shoved myself into an available slot on his fuck-list frolics. Becoming a smash session in his long list of options felt like a good idea last night. The whore between my leg’s roots for him. She’s still shouting out that it feels pretty damn good today too.
Loving him was never an option, it just was. Plain and simple facts. No amount of time changes how I feel. Believe me, I’ve tried to forget, move on. Five years have produced zero boyfriends or any type of attraction for anyone other than him. My heart and vagina tagged teamed up and selected him, only him.
Placing the hairdryer on the counter, I move for the bedroom and pluck my little white bathing suit out of the drawer. Time for a pool day with my bestie. This shit with Ren can pause on standstill, routine habit. I need a day with no worries, wine, and Reese. Relaxing by her pool with zero mind dramatics swirling about. That’s what’s up. That
’s what is necessary for my sanity.
“NOOOOO.” Reese shoots straight up in her lounger and turns to me fully almost spilling her wine in the process. “Seriously?” Her eyes are wide with surprise.
“Yeah, last night.” I nod my head letting out a giggle that echoes out across her lavish pool area. “Damn. I had forgotten how talented he was with everything that is him. Like, the man is a sex-magician. Tapping that damn wand around, making magic tricks happen and orgasms appear out of a hat or better yet from between my legs.” Reese and I both laugh out loud.
Telling her about my fabulous sex staring Renegade last night was probably not my best idea. Wine bottle number two is flowing nicely through our veins. Forcing those literal fucking truths out of my body. She’s my best friend. It’s what we do.
“I knew it. I knew you guys would hook back up.” She says excitedly. “Rage said it too. I mean after the way Ren acted at Swank’s; the clock was ticking on the dicking.” She laughs out loud.
“Reese, uhhh-nah. Stop it.” I wiggle my finger at her. “Ren made it very clear that he’s in it for the sex only, that’s all. And before you start, I’m cool with that. Please don’t make a big deal out of it. Moving along.” I’m a damn liar.
“That’s straight-up bullshit Asia.” Out of frustration, she slaps her lounger with her hand. “Ren never got over you.” I shake my head and tsk her.
“The hell you say…. He got up. He rolled over. And he got the hell gone before my eyes peeled opened this morning. Whatever problems he had before, he’s worked through them. He never got over the sex, maybe. There’s a difference, Reese’s Pieces.” I sigh.
Keeping it real, I never got over him or the sex, ever. He’s wickedly good at everything me, period. She scrunches her nose up and shakes her head as if she actually caught a bad smell in her nostrils.
“Girl… This shit is going to blow-up. But if you two want to downplay the feels, fine-whatever. Mark my words on it though,” She points her finger at me then continues, “It’s only a matter of time. And I can’t believe that you guys are playing this dangerous game with each other. I’ll let it go for now but it’s going to end badly Ash.” She sounds like my mom. That’s something else that hasn’t changed, her moma bear ways.
“I’ll tell you this, I still feel bad about tagging Rebel in the throat. That was a dirty low-blow.”
“You can let that worry go though. Rebel was so happy about getting that new I-Bot thingy from you he didn’t care. His minds preoccupied with techie shit mixed with whacky weed wisdom. He’s good.” She reaches under her lounger and pulls out what looks like a joint. Oh shit…
“Reese Reynolds … What’s that you have in your hand?” I point at her.
“I stole this from Reb the other day. You wanna?” She wiggles her eyebrows in a laughable question.
“When did my strait-laced, attorney smart, best friend start smoking pot?” My mouth hangs open in shock. I sit halfway up and pluck it from her hands. This was unexpected. What has happened to my innocent friend? Damn, Rage and the Chaos Cousins. They did this to her, ruined for life.
“When I moved back, I figured out that Rage’s little outbursts were easier to take when high. So, that’s when. Maybe if I get you high you can overlook the dumbass that Renegade is too.” She giggles and passes me the lighter.
“I never smoke this stuff. Is it good?” I ask. Reese nods her head and makes the mind-blowing motion with her hands.
“I hardly ever smoke to, but when I do, Rebel’s shit never disappoints. The only downside is that I end up having to restock the frig afterward because I eat everything.” She says. “Mostly crunchy peanut butter and pickles.”
“Then I say we put the Cush in the air,” I giggle out.
Firing the joint up was the easy part folks. When I take a hit of the tangy tobacco, I know it’s coming. Me being the rookie with everything weed-related, I begin to cough my virgin lungs out. It’s an absolute side effect that comes with the wacky, period. The little Mary Jane puffs-a-lot sitting beside me laughs out loud and I pass it on.
“Where’s Rampage been at here lately? I haven’t seen much of him.” I rasp out between a coughing fit.
“He’s in New York with the sexy Wallstreet God.” She says.
“The who?” I giggle. Did I hear her right? She must be blitzed already.
“Girl… Brogan Creed is the Wallstreet God, yummy man candy. Plus, he’s my boss at The House of Creed. But seriously that’s what they call him in New York, Wallstreet God.” She says the name like a UFC announcer introducing the night's main event attraction. “Rampage is good friends with that fuckable sex toy. They play well in business together, so he flies out to the big apple often. Wait a second, I’ll show you a picture of Brogan. He’s a mini orgasm to look at.” She looks on both sides of her lounger. “Well, crap.”
“Jesus. Look at you, smoking weed and talking about fuckable sexy man candy. I’d be proud of you if it wasn’t for your husband. Rage is so going to kill me.” I watch as she fumbles through the towels in search of her phone.
“No, he won’t. He doesn’t control me.” I quirk my eyebrows at my bestie because he so does. “Oh, shit… I left my phone inside. Take this.” She hands me the joint. “He’s probably tried to call me. Let me run get it right quick.”
Reese’s dog, Ghost, comes up and bumps his head against my leg. I hang my hand off the side of my lounger willing him to come get some free love in the form of scratches.
“I thought he didn’t control you.” I snicker and she sticks her tongue out at me. She’s moving that ass at a fast rate for the door. Yeah, that’s what I thought.
“Anyway, I need a pickle. You want something?” Ghost takes off after his moma.
“Other than to see that picture of the Wallstreet God, nah. I’m good.” Stoned to the bone but good.
Sitting back, my eyes already feeling heavy and weighted. I toke on the mean green Mary Jane bud letting my thoughts wander aimlessly. Damn, my reserved and shy best friend has turned into a literal little Rebel stoner fangirl with a healthy dose of fuming Rage when pissed off. These guys have wrecked my best friend. This weeds some pretty good shit though.
chapter 21 - Renegade
Sauntering my sexually satisfied but dumb fucking ass through my investigation firm, I push my door open and walk around my mahogany oak masterpiece. Planting my ass down in the driver’s seat, I bump my mouse and bring my computer to life. What the fuck was I thinking last night? Oh, that’s right, I wasn’t. My dick was at the podium, mic in hand. That motherfucker went out on his own, solo.
My mind is spinning out about last night. After everything I know. Everything I’ve experienced firsthand with that woman. Everything she’s capable of. How could I have been so fucking stupid to bypass a god damn condom? I never go without one. EVER.
It’s like all common sense and facts from the past was tossed right out the door as soon as she landed on my dick. Or I dove in, whatever. The results are the same, unprotected sex. I’m not even sure if she’s on birth control. All the things that I’ll make damn sure to find out later. Right now, duty calls.
Combing through the e-mails, my eyes linger on the urgent inbox message from Crash. Letting my cursor float over the sensitive file that holds the answers to everything I’ve wanted to know for the past five years. My gut twists. That rational voice inside my head begs me to let it go. I won’t deny that I love the woman, I do. I can admit it to myself, silently. That should be enough to move forward, past be damned. Right? Yeah, not even close.
There’s a flip side to all that shit, a dirty one. Like night is to day; good versus evil. That deviant thug motherfucker living inside of me won’t be ignored. He demands to be feed. He seeks information. He seeks facts. He seeks understanding. He’s peeking around the shoulder of Mr. Sensible right now, knocking his gullible ass out of the way. Pointing that decrepit poisonous black fingernail at me urging me otherwise. OPEN THE FILE FOOL. His red demonic eyes demanding
me to click the damn mouse and set the evil past free. Knowledge is power, right?
Clicking the email, I have four different files to choose from. One for Jake and one for his medical records. Another file for Asia and her medical records too. Easy choice. Let’s see what old Jake the Ripper has been up to. Other than working on a guaranteed prison sentence if he doesn’t keep his unwanted dick to himself. This fucker is shady with a filthy film coating his entire body, head to toe.
Jake the Ripper’s shit is all over the map. From questionable business deals to associating with the drug cartel. From hookers to whores, all the way to the White House front doors. His political penis is patrolling the world. Racking up one felony charge at a time and cashing himself out just as fast.
This bag of dicks has a list of over seventeen different women that have all pressed charges against him. Stemming from sexual assault to rape. Three of the said charges were in the last year alone. Granted, every last charge has been dropped. Paid them all off, no doubt, but this shit right here is telling a story all its own. His file is enough to make any half-decent man want to end his breathing pattern placing him on permeant downtime. Six feet down into the god damn ground that is.
When I click on the attached property and assets file my eyes zoom in on the strip mall that he lured Asia to a few weeks back. Pulling the document up my focus becomes lathered in red. Why the fuck would this prick deed prime commercial real estate over to Asia? I scrub my hand over my face. This motherfucker right here… What the fuck is the correlation with these two?
“Brother…”