The Scars That Define Us

by M. N. Forgy

  I fall to the floor, the weight of the situation too much for me to handle.

  Shadow falls to his knees in front of me. “Dani,” he coos softly.

  “After last night, I assured the club you are not a threat. The club fucked up not trusting you, and everyone wants to show their apology by welcoming you back in. I fucked up,” he whispers. “I should have trusted you, but the hold you have over me had me scared to death to let you back in. That feeling when you were taken away as a witness was terrifying. I have never felt so broken in my life.”

  All I can do is sob, trying to fight the tears of fear. He talks about how hard it is to trust people, but how can I trust he won’t change his mind and kill me in my sleep?

  “This is our world, Dani,” he says, his tone sounding like it’s supposed to make everything okay. Like this is normal.

  “I don’t know if I can live in this world. How do I know I can trust you?” I ask, wiping the tears from my face.

  “If you want to leave, we’ll pack up right now and leave,” he replies, brushing a tear from my face.

  My head snaps up, catching the we in his statement. He would leave the club and everything he has behind just for me? The sliver of hope that Shadow and I might be able to redeem what’s left of us causes my hopes to rise.

  Shadow’s blue eyes pierce mine. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you go that easy,” he informs me, his face serious.

  He leans in and kisses my bottom lip softly. “I told you in the beginning you would hate me more than like me, but I’ll be damned if I ever let you go again,” he whispers against my lips.

  My mouth parts with disbelief, his words hitting my heart in all the right places.

  “I broke a club law going out with that guy, didn’t I?” As soon as the question leaves my mouth, I regret it. Shadows face clenches and turns red.

  “Yeah, well, I haven’t been an angel,” he states, justifying my actions. I cringe at his words. I don’t want to know who he has slept with. Not right now, anyway.

  “Doesn’t mean I’m not fucking pissed about it, but we both fucked up,” he says, running his hands through his hair.

  “We are so messed up,” I mutter. What couple has a conversation like this?

  “No arguing there,” Shadow remarks, leaning against the wall.

  I lay my head against the wall, as well, and turn to look at his handsome profile, wondering why he sat on his bike last night and let things escalate between my mother and me.

  “Last night, with my mom…” I start, wiping my tears from my cheeks.

  “What about it?” he asks.

  “You saw what was going on, so why didn’t you try and stop it? Or better yet, why didn’t you try and stop me from killing a federal agent?” I question, raising my voice.

  Shadow grins and looks at me, as if I get what he smiling about.

  “What?” I ask.

  “The way you were holding that gun, there was no way you would hit anything,” he chuckles, making me laugh along with him.

  “Yeah, well, Bobby was supposed to teach me how to shoot,” I state matter-of-factly.

  “Bobby won’t be teaching you anything,” he sneers coldly. “I’ll teach you.” He stands up and looks down at me, a question playing on his lips.

  “What?” I ask.

  “If you didn’t suck at aiming and could do it all over again, would you have killed your mom?” he wonders, staring at me with his eyebrows furrowed.

  I think about everything: the way my mother hated me growing up, her never being around, and my never being enough for her. She only kept me around to destroy the club, never loving me, never caring. When I found love, found my place in the world, she tried to ruin it all.

  I look up at Shadow, the answer clear. “Absolutely.”

  I PULL MY CAR into the parking lot behind a burnt-down gas station, grab my rifle case, and sling it over my back for the hike over the grassy bluff. My feet crunch on the dead grass with every step I take; the sun has been hot and brutal this summer, killing everything in its path. The long-sleeve shirt I’m wearing to cover my tattoos begins to stick to my body with the perspiration building from the walk; this fucking heat is ridiculous. I finally make it to the top of the hill and lay my bag on the ground. I look across the highway and spot the dingy hotel about four hundred yards away. One thing I’m good at is killing, and this one I’ll do with pleasure. I set the bipod for my sniper and load the rifle with jacketed hollow-points then grab the binoculars to get a better look at the hotel and scope out the surrounding area.

  Ever since Dani told me she wanted her mother dead a few days ago, I figured I would do the honor in granting her that wish. Not only that, but I have no doubt in my mind Dani would kill her mother the next time she saw her. That is not something I want for Dani. She may have a dark streak, but I’m not sure she could handle the weight of killing her mother. Plus, she would make a mess of the situation, leaving DNA or witnesses.

  I’m thankful Bobby saved me the pain of killing my mother. I still wish it was me who ended her life, but in a sense I don’t. Since she’s dead, I forget the nasty crawling whore she was and remember the times when she was actually a mother, before the drugs, booze, and neglect started. I shake my head of the memories and eye the hotel—it sure is a shitty place. I laugh. I bet Lady thought she was safe in a deserted hotel off the grid. Either that or she’s so dumb she thought she would get out of town alive with no retaliation from the club. I look into the scope for her room number—she has been staying in room nine. I know because I stalked her down the last two days, watched where she’s been and who she’s talked to. Mostly she’s been hanging outside the club and my apartment, circling Dani like a shark. I know in my gut she’s going to fuck with Dani, use her to her advantage. I can’t allow that to happen, considering it’s a miracle the club didn’t take Dani out last time. If something goes wrong again, I’m not so convinced she’ll walk out of it alive.

  I look away from the scope and sigh. Am I killing for Dani or the club? I’m not sure how either would take it. I’m with Locks that Bull has put family over the club, so killing Lady (who used to be his ol’ lady) may not go over too well with him. Likewise, telling Dani I killed her mother would piss her off because I didn’t let her do it. I adjust myself behind the rifle and look down the scope. She doesn’t understand that killing her mother would kill a piece of her. My body has been having withdrawals from the lack of control I have had lately, trembling for the urge to take charge and pull the trigger. I spot Lady, sitting on the bed brushing her hair; it looks like she’s getting ready to leave. My finger finds the trigger as I hear footsteps crunching the grass from behind me, making my blood rush to my ears. Someone has spotted me. I look over my shoulder and see by the moonlight someone is walking my way. I reach into my waistband and pull out my pistol. Looks like I’m taking out two people tonight. As soon as the person steps into the light where I can see them, I cock my weapon, aiming it right at them.

  “The fuck?” Bobby exclaims, lifting his hands in the air.

  “God damn it, Bobby!” I whisper; the fucker has my heart racing.

  “You’ve been acting sneaky the last two days, so I followed you here,” he explains, squatting.

  “I could have shot you,” I chastise in a low whisper.

  “Who you taking out?” he asks, grabbing the binoculars from the rifle bag off the ground and ignoring my anger.

  I wait for it, the ridicule he’s bound to bark at me when he spots Lady. Her room is the only one lit up and open for the world to see.

  He sweeps the hotel over before coming to a stop.

  He pulls the binoculars down and looks at me with accusing eyes. His jaw is pulled tight and his brow is furrowed inward.

  “Bull order this?” he asks.

  I look over the highway at the hotel. “No.”

  I wait for him to try to talk me out of it. It won’t work, though. Lady needs to go for multiple reasons. The big
gest is she’s cancerous to Dani’s wellbeing, and she’ll never let us be together while she’s alive.

  “Dani?” he questions, wanting to know if I told Dani my plans to murder her mother.

  “No, she doesn’t know,” I reply defiantly, lifting my chin, ready to battle this out with him.

  Bobby sighs loudly and lies on his belly, getting comfortable.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, my voice low so nobody hears me.

  “Helping you keep watch, what’s it look like?” he says, eyeing the hotel room.

  Bobby and I have done this together plenty of times, mostly for club hits though. He’s never came with me on a side job. I never needed a wingman but I wouldn’t turn him away if he wanted to join. He gets it, and he doesn’t judge.

  “Too bad she’s not naked. I bet she’s got nice tits,” he jokes, staring contently into the binoculars.

  I lie back down and position myself behind the rifle, taking steady breaths as my finger finds the trigger again.

  I watch Lady stand and move toward the door.

  “She’s headed to the door,” Bobby whispers.

  “Got it,” I confirm.

  She pulls the door open, trying to hold it with her foot, but its force keeps pushing her small frame back. I release my steady breath and press lightly on the trigger.

  “Wait—”

  I jump from Bobby’s voice as I pull the trigger. The rifle recoils back into my shoulder as I continue to stare down the scope. Lady is jolted backwards and falls to the ground. I notice her foot moving near the door. She’s still alive.

  “Damn it, Bobby. You made me miss my shot!” I yell, standing up.

  “I thought someone was walking in the parking lot, but it was a damn cat. Sorry, man,” Bobby apologizes, standing up.

  I take apart my rifle as Bobby keeps watch. I put it back into the bag, zip it, and throw it over my shoulder before heading toward the car quickly.

  I start to walk faster toward my car, the grass crunching loudly as I make way. I pass Bobby’s bike parked right next to the stolen car. I throw my gun case in the backseat and grab my bag then grab an extra mask and gloves and throw them at Bobby to put on. I reach in, grab the silencer, and screw it onto the end of the barrel of my pistol then climb behind the wheel as Bobby rides passenger. We drive across the overpass to the crappy hotel, hoping nobody recognizes the stolen car. Luckily, it’s late and not many cars are passing the area. I pull my mask over my face and tighten my gloves on my hands before getting out and walking toward the room concealing Lady. Her foot is caught in the door, leaving it open slightly. I kick her foot in as I enter the room, and the door slams shut after Bobby enters. Lady is lying on her back with a gunshot wound to the chest and is gasping for air. I can’t help but smile.

  I walk up to her and hover in her line of sight, aimed at the ceiling. I pull my mask up to my hairline and smile. Her dull eyes widen with fear.

  “I bet I was the last mother fucker you thought you’d ever see again,” I sneer, with a wolfish grin.

  She tries to talk but nothing but gurgling comes out, spluttering blood down her chin. I squat down, pull my gun from my waistband, and place it against her bloody lips. “Shhhh,” I whisper. The gun against her mouth muffles her strangled cries.

  “You can’t hurt Dani anymore,” I say softly. She begins to whimper and tries to pull away from me, but she’s too weak to make much of an effort.

  I stand up, point the gun at her head, and pull the trigger. The bullet rips into her skull, throwing brain matter all over me.

  “There are her keys,” Bobby points, bending to pick her keys up from the floor, which are thrown haphazardly across the carpet. I place my gun back in my waistband and grab her body, throwing her over my shoulder easily and walking to the door. I try to pull the door open but it has a spring causing it to want to slam closed, making it near impossible to keep open.

  “Are you going to get the fucking door?” I ask Bobby, who’s looking at the mug shots of the club members thrown about the bed.

  “Shit. Sorry, brother,” he apologizes, rushing toward the door. It’s amazing he’s not a prospect still.

  He pulls the door open as I squeeze through.

  “It’s spring-loaded,” Bobby explains, pushing the door back and forth, fascinated by the silver spring at the top of the door.

  “Nice to know,” I remark, struggling with Lady’s limp body.

  “Trunk,” I remind him. He aims the keys in hand and presses the trunk button on the key fob. It pops open with a flash of its lights. When I said I didn’t mind having Bobby around for these kinds of late-night outings, I take it back. I throw Lady’s lifeless body into the back of her trunk and slam it shut. I reenter the room and cut out the stained carpet which held her blood. Beneath it is concrete, so I pull out the small bottle of bleach in my cargo pants and pour it all over the concrete and surrounding carpet, hoping to eliminate any trace of blood. I’m sure if someone saw the square missing they would know what happened, though. Still, no evidence, no jail time.

  “Let’s go before someone sees us,” I say, opening the door. I walk casually to the stolen car and get in while Bobby gets in Lady’s car.

  We drive off the exit ramp in search of an abandoned area.

  About an hour out, I turn under a bridge. There hasn’t been anyone in sight for the last thirty minutes, and I haven’t spotted any traffic on the bridge.

  I pull under it and see the headlights of Lady’s black car bouncing in the rear view mirror, pulling up behind me.

  “Nice fucking ride,” Bobby says, slamming the door to the black BMW.

  He grabs the bottom of his shirt, pulls it over his head, and throws it over his shoulder. He pops open the gas tank and stuffs the shirt in. He then reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a lighter, lighting the tip of the shirt on fire before running away.

  “This feels good,” Bobby states, digging in his pockets.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You and me, back to our old ways,” he says, smiling a goofy ass grin.

  I continue to stare at the growing flame. “There is no us, and we aren’t back to anything,” I snap coldly.

  I feel the air pick up tension as Bobby realizes I have not forgiven him so easily for not having my back with Dani, even if he was right. Not to mention, him putting his hands on her.

  “Shadow, I just want what’s best for Firefly.” He says it like he means it and I believe he does, but I couldn’t care less. His transgression festers within me until I can find a way of revenge.

  “Unless you want to wind up in the trunk, too, this conversation is over,” I declare, looking at him.

  “Fine, it’s over,” Bobby spits. “But, seriously,” he continues, cocking his head to the side, not giving up on the subject.

  “Bobby!” I yell, hoping my rise in voice will shut him up.

  “Fine,” he says with a breath.

  The car explodes, throwing a rim in our direction and shrapnel everywhere.

  “Fuck, that never gets old,” Bobby laughs.

  He puts a joint in his mouth and walks up to the burning car, leaning into the flame trying to light it.

  “You’re going to burn your face off,” I chuckle.

  “Nah,” he says, stepping back and puffing out smoke.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I say, heading back to the stolen car.

  Waking up this morning, I smell of cleaning products and fire. It’s been a week since I told Dani everything, which was the hardest thing I think I have ever done. Seeing her break down made me realize just how fragile she is, and it made me want to shelter and protect her from danger. If she wanted to pack up and leave, I would have. I already fucked up picking the club and my brothers over her. From now on, she comes first.

  She’s worked twice this week, and both times I have picked her up and dropped her off. We have watched T.V. and talked about senseless shit. Yet all I can think about is throwing Dani over the counter an
d fucking her, claiming what’s mine once again, reminding her she is mine for eternity until I say otherwise, but the severity of our situation has me questioning if she wants me. Don’t get me wrong if I wanted Dani, I could easily take her whether she wanted it or not; she is my ol’ lady, after all, but it wouldn’t be us. It wouldn’t be Firefly, unless I know she trusts me. I don’t want half of Dani—I want all of her. I want her to scream who she belongs to, ruin her for any man who might stand behind me. Given my nature, there is a strong possibility I will fuck this relationship up again. Knowing Dani’s angelic nature in our world, there will be men standing behind me. Regardless of what Bobby says, his ass would be in line to take Dani as his; he would be stupid not to.

  Snapping me from my thoughts, Dani comes in with a towel wrapped around her midsection, singing some chick song as she moseys in the shopping bags on the counter. The towel is riding high as she bends over the counter, showing the rounds of her ass, her hair dripping down her back. I can’t help the groan that rumbles through my chest.

  Dani spins around and grips the towel at her breast.

  “Shit. I didn’t know you were back,” she gasps with surprise.

  “Yeah, just got back,” I reply, adjusting my cock, her skin tanned from laying out and screaming for my mouth to devour it.

  Dani looks down at herself. “I’ll go get changed,” she says meekly, before taking off.

  She scampers off down the hall, and it takes everything in me not to follow her like a horny teenager. I want to see that body of hers again. With that thought, my dick twitches, making me growl in frustration. Things have been getting a little better between Dani and me, I can still feel some of the tension in the air between us, and I’m not sure if it’s because I admitted I chose the club over her, or if it’s sexual.

  “So, what are the plans for the weekend?” she asks, plopping down on the couch next to me, her smell of perfection reminding me of what I want and can’t have. She’s wearing a peach-colored, loose top which hangs off her shoulder with shorts that were once jeans, cut too short.