His (Hers #5)

by Dawn Robertson

  “Paisley. What the fuck?!” I run toward her, gun still in hand. Not even thinking about my actions. My only motive is protecting her from the scene down here. I don’t want her to see this. It won’t do any good to her.

  Her eyes dart over my body, the tight white tank top is splattered with Zane’s blood. I can tell she is about to pass out, or freak out. I wish I could tell her I’m in the same boat. My sanity is long gone. I am torturing a man and I have no remorse. I would do it again and again. I try and rationalize with myself, repeatedly telling myself he’s a bad man who did bad shit. He hurt people. He raped women. He had no regard for life. Neither do I, apparently.

  “Paisley. Honey. Turn around and go upstairs now. Please.” I’m stern and I use the last bit of calm I have left in me. I know as soon as I’m alone again, washing off this man’s blood, I’m going to lose it.

  I almost have her convinced to go back up the stairs when that little bitch starts making noise. Muffled cries echo through the basement and Paisley’s eyes dart around.

  I wish she would go. I beg her to turn and walk up those stairs and leave before it’s too late. I wish I could finish him off and be done with this all. Make Paisley safe for once without this scumbag nosing around for her. I’m not going to be able to hold it together much longer. I’m slipping.

  “Seven, I’m not going anywhere. What’s going on?”

  The bikers in the room don’t say a word. The men Diesel called in for back up have done nothing but watch as I tortured him. A man they considered their brother for so long tortured by one of their own. But clearly, once you cross a certain line, you are as good as dead to their kind.

  Paisley blinks back tears as she gags. She recognizes Zane and the horror of the realization is written all over her face. I don’t know what to say or do so I just try and justify my own actions. I pull at excuses as to why I have this man as my prisoner. Why I am torturing him.

  “Paisley, men like him don’t deserve to live. They don’t deserve to walk among us. Think of our children. What if someone like that got ahold of my daughter? Could either of us live with that?” I try and rationalize what I’m doing. My words come out loud and hysterical. My arms are flailing all over the place and I think this is when I realize that I have officially checked onto the crazy train. The sad thing is: I believe everything I am saying like it is the gospel of Jesus Christ himself.

  “This isn’t your battle, Seven. It’s mine.” Paisley counters. She’s trying to get me to walk away and that just isn’t going to happen. Not now. Diesel interjects himself into the conversation, helping me to get Paisley far away from this scene.

  “He came here for you when he heard Chrome and Star left town for the weekend. What he wasn’t expecting was Seven in the house. Big mistake on his part.” He nods in my direction but I’m lost in my own thoughts, pacing back and forth in front of the barely conscious Zane.

  Paisley takes a few steps towards him and pulls at the blindfold one of the bikers used to cover his eyes. Masking his view of Paisley. I try to ignore their exchange. I don’t want to be involved in the emotions. I want to remain cold. Cold like I’ve always been until Levi ruined me. I could have done this so much easier a year ago before he waltzed into my life with his love and his emotion. Something I worked so hard to turn off for so fucking long after James.

  I want her to go. I want her to save herself.

  “Paisley, remember whatever you do is something you have to live with for the rest of your life. You’re safe in this room, but this is something you can never forget.” I warn her because I know her so well. This will eat her alive. This will be something she sees every time she closes her eyes and tries to sleep. It will haunt her, just as he has haunted her for so long. He doesn’t deserve any more space in her precious mind.

  She runs the cool metal of the gun along his various body parts, before she hands it back to me.

  “Zane. I am going to spare you. Why? I can’t answer that because I don’t know. You’re a monster. And you have to live with everything you’ve done in your lifetime. But I can’t be like you. I can’t hurt another. I’m a good person. I have enough blood on my hands because of you. I cannot have more.” The poor girl was referring to the baby she killed because of its monster for a father. I don’t blame her, not one bit, because I would have done the same.

  Then I would have had a fucking party.

  As Paisley begins to climb the basement stairs, I snap. My last bit of sanity is completely gone and I know there is no coming back from this. Any of it.

  I raise the gun up, taking aim one last time.

  “She’s a good person. But I’m not. See you in hell motherfucker.”

  Like that, I pull the trigger, and witness the most disgusting execution of my life. And I am the only one left with blood on my hands this time.

  Levi

  Past

  I have given her three days. Three whole days and I haven’t heard a single word from her. Texts were opened yesterday with no reply. The least she could do was fucking let me know she read them. Maybe even call and let me know she is alive and healthy. That the baby is okay at the fucking least. But no. She isn’t fucking considerate enough.

  I should have known this was a bad idea from the get go, but I’ve tried everything. Fuckin’ everything to get through to her. I just didn’t know what else to do. Seven James is not your typical female. She is strong and stubborn. She is beautiful and rugged in the sexiest way possible. She is everything any man should want out of a woman, and I was lucky enough to call her mine until I pushed her away.

  Now she continues to push me and I have no idea what else to do. I’ve contemplated getting in the car and driving upstate to Woodstock. Chasing her like she always wants, but for once in Seven’s life, she isn’t going to get what she wants from me. I am going to do my own thing. Just like she is doing. I am going to be selfish.

  The pit in my stomach continues to grow, but I push the thoughts of it away. I can’t let her do this to me. I can’t let her fuck me up more than I already am. I can’t play this back and forth with her anymore because every battle she wins gives her more power. More power to use over me in our constant battle for dominance. The alcohol sloshes around in my stomach and I make shitty choice after shitty choice.

  I grab my keys and head to Sinners & Swingers for the night. I need to let out some steam. Have a couple more drinks. Just get out of the fucking house and try and get Seven off my mind. Shit. Is our marriage really coming to an end? Or am I just finally accepting that we may really never come back from this?

  My phone rings, and Star’s phone number pops up on the display. She is the last person I expected to hear from, especially considering she protects Seven more than anyone else in this world. She is Seven’s gatekeeper. She is Seven’s person. Shit, I could really use a person to air all my dirty laundry to. I am sure I would feel a hell of a lot better about all this bullshit going on.

  “Hello?” I answer the call to the booming voice of Chrome on the other end. It makes sense though, because Star wouldn’t pick up the phone and call me for any damn reason. Seven would never allow it.

  “Levi, we have a problem.” His tone is clipped and annoyed. Of course Seven went up to his home and started shit. I wouldn’t expect anything less from her. She seems even more reckless now than ever. I long for the Seven I met a year ago. Even if she led me on a while goose chase. She was more… put together.

  “How much do you know about Paisley’s attack?” His words send a chill through my body because I know everything about it. Seven and I walked the poor girl through everything. Her healing, her abortion, her recovery until we brought her to Woodstock to finally get on with her life at Thanksgiving. I treated her as if she was my own sister.

  “Everything, Chrome.” I’m sure he will be pissed that we knew. But, I respected the fact that she didn’t want anyone to know. If I was her, I wouldn’t want anyone to know what happened to me. That is private shit, and just
like my wife, I am a loyal person.

  “Zane showed up at my house while Star and I were away. The only person who was in the house was Seven.” My world comes crashing in on me. My legs give out and I fall to the floor with the phone still up to my ear. I pushed her so far that she ended up hurt. This is all my fucking fault.

  The words fall from my mouth with no thought, “No… no no no no.” and just trail off as my chest tightens and it becomes hard to breathe.

  “Seven is alright, Levi. As okay as she can be. Zane on the other hand…” His words trail off and I wonder what exactly he is trying to tell me. My body relaxes but not much. My heart and my mind continue to race because I have no idea what happened. I don't like being in the dark, but I won’t pay attention long enough to find out.

  “Chrome, just tell me.” I demand. I need to know what happened.

  “Not over the phone, Levi. We are driving back to Woodstock. We should be there in about three hours. I suggest you get in your car and start driving up from Manhattan. Now.” and the line goes dead. The only thing I can do is toss armfuls of clothes into a bag and heed his instructions. I am on the highway in no time flat, speeding towards Woodstock. Praying my wife and daughter are unharmed.

  “Fuckin’ Seven. God damn it!”

  Seven

  Present

  “Therapy is stupid,” I yell at Levi across the kitchen. I have been in intensive therapy for almost a full year. Ever since my mental break. I think the mixture of untreated lifelong depression and anxiety mixed with everything that happened in Star’s basement that night made something click. Something snap. There are large chunks of my memory I still can’t access. There are days missing from that period of time. But the one thing I cannot forget is what I did to Zane. I remember that clear as day. I guess expecting my memory to free me from the fact that I killed a man would be wishful thinking.

  The added stress of work was always something I ignored. I thought I could take on the world. I mean, I am Seven Fuckin’ James. But truth be told, my health and well-being have never come first. That is where Levi comes in now. I am thankful for him and his support even though I have crossed so many uncrossable lines.

  “Seven, shove it and get in the damn car before you miss your appointment.” Levi counters as Marley crawls across the floor. I love it when he talks back. “We’ll be fine for the entire hour you’re gone. Right Marley?” His face beams as he speaks to our daughter. His love for her is the most heartwarming thing. And I almost think that I would’ve never recovered to where I am today without the two of them.

  “You’ll be fine because she goes down for a nap in ten minutes.” I laugh and roll my eyes at him. He is still scared to be alone with her for the most part. Parenthood is scary shit. I don’t blame him. I remember the first time I was at home alone with her. I thought she was out to get me. I’m pretty sure she still is, but damn, it was nice having all the help from the hospital staff for all that time.

  As much as they helped us, I still don’t want to see the inside of another hospital ever again. Marley spent way too much time there. Months of her life connected to machines, wondering what kind of lifelong impacts she would have. Thankfully, thus far, she seems to be a pretty normal child, minus a couple minor delays for her given age. All to be expected with a preemie.

  “Don’t forget we have Skype interviews this afternoon to fill my position finally.” I remind Levi. All this time later I am finally and very reluctantly giving up a little control of White-Woods Global, the company James gave me so long ago. I never thought I would be able to give up that power and just watch from afar, but the time has come. “And maybe if you are really lucky… I’ll have my way with you. These fuckin’ hormones are driving me crazy!” I grab his dick as I walk by and giggle to myself. I love getting him all hot and bothered just before I leave. It keeps him wanting me for the duration I am gone. I give it twenty minutes before I get a dick pic of some type. Or some kind of sext.

  “I’ll be back later on.” I stroll to the car and pull down our gravel driveway onto the country road that empties out into the middle of Woodstock. Going back to the city just wasn’t an option for me. The life we had before is over. Gone. The fast paced city drove me to my break. I needed to start over. Live a quieter existence. At least that is what I told myself and everyone around me.

  I could micromanage everything I needed to right from my home office. Yeah, if you asked me a couple years ago about CEO Moms who work from home, I would have offered up a couple swift cunt punches about all that Lean In bullshit. No, you can’t have it all… blah blah blah. But now, I guess life changed my opinions on a lot of shit.

  As much as I hate this town because of everything it brought me as a child, it is the place I need to stay so I can heal. Become whole again. Recover and raise my family. Get life right. This town broke me and now it would put me back together. With the help of Levi, and Marley.

  Star and I will create a new generation of Woodstock with our own families. A better generation full of colorful children we will actually take care of. Love unconditionally and make them know they are worth something more than we ever thought we could be. Be the change in the cycle we both desperately need.

  I snap out of my head when I pull into the small office parking lot and sit down to dive into my weekly therapy session I fucking hate.

  “Seven, this week I want you to discuss your relationship with Levi.” my therapist, Brooke, says across the room. I sit in the plush black leather chair and trace the lines caused by decades of wear.

  “What about it?” I ask with my typical flippant behavior with a shrug of my shoulders. Of course I know she wants to talk about our backstory. How we met, and why we ended up where we are today. Our life together now. Everything that deals with my marriage. And of course the giant shit-storm we went through in the last few months. Divorce talks and the fighting. Fuck, I hated the fighting.

  “Well, Seven, since you are going to play coy, today we are going to talk about the paparazzi storm that started months ago. We will go from there. I know you are holding a lot of stress from this and in your delicate state, that isn’t healthy.” Brooke looks straight through me. I could talk with her all day long and she would still be able to read me better than anyone in my life. I guess that’s her job, but I kinda hate it.

  “Well, I’ve gone through a lot since I went into that facility.” A word I use to refer to the nut house everyone stuck me in after I offed Zane. I’ve continued to use the excuse that stress from work is what sent me over the edge, but I think the constant worry of the police knocking on my door and somehow connecting me to Zane is what caused it all. Do I feel sorry about what I did? Not a fucking second. But the worry about my family is what continues to bother me. Chrome’s words of comfort and reassurance never worked. He made a mental note that if I didn’t do it, someone else would have. My feelings on it all remain indifferent though. I guess I just can’t fester in the emotions or lack thereof.

  I feel a sense of relief for Star because, had Chrome had to kill his own brother, that would have played on both of them heavily. Far heavier than it played on me because Star has just been through far more than I. Inwardly I’m glad I took the burden off of her and Paisley at the same time. It was typical of the behavior that landed me here though. Always trying to be the protector, no matter what the cost.

  “Let’s start when you brought Marley home from the hospital.” Brooke prompts, and I begin my task.

  “It was peaceful. I was peaceful for the first time in years. It was just the three of us; we were home and thanking whatever higher power hangs over us for Marley being healthy and finally home. It was touch and go for the longest time and it was all my fault.” I pause to take a breath, but Brooke interrupts me.

  “Why do you feel as though your premature labor was your fault, Seven?”

  “Brooke, there were so many times the doctor tried to put me on bed rest. I was too stubborn. I didn’t think it could happen to
me. BAM! It did and it was my fault. There was no one else to blame for ignoring their concerns.” I wouldn’t imagine telling her that the baby I am carrying currently is my way of a do-over. I love Marley to death, but I failed her from the start. This is my chance to get it right. I’m not really sure if I even want another child, but I wanted the chance to finally do something right since failure weighs so heavy on me.

  What kind of mother would ignore their doctor’s orders? A shitty one. A mother like my own, who constantly put their own bullshit before their child. I wouldn’t tell Brooke or Levi that I constantly compared myself to my own mother, but it really was a fair comparison after my behavior.

  “The first month home with Marley was amazing. I didn’t have to worry about anything or anyone but her and Levi. Life was simple. But, you know what they say about the quiet before the storm.” I laugh, thinking about the surprise that was just around the corner. Brooke nods and I continue.

  “We hadn’t talked about any more kids. I honestly don’t think I want anymore. Hell, I didn’t want Marley in the beginning either. I was scared shitless I would fuck my kids up for life, just like my parents did. But seeing that plus sign on the test when Marley was finally home sent our whole world into a tailspin.” I sit and rub my bump.

  Something I would never admit to my therapist is the fact that I continued my pregnancy to prove a point to myself and the world. The point that I didn’t have to fail again. At least at the pregnancy portion of parenting. I could have a healthy and safe pregnancy, without hurting myself or my baby. Had I done everything right with Marley the first time around, I very well may have ended this pregnancy. And quite possibly my marriage.

  This baby was my second chance. The opportunity to rock the hell out of pregnancy and make it my bitch. The end result of another kid was still an idea that was still up in the air for me. That is just me being completely honest. I’m sure in the end, everything will work itself out, or at least that is what I continue to tell myself to rationalize my bad planning and lack of responsibility.