“I Dominic, take you, Christine, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part,” I said, glancing at priest. “Can I kiss her now?”
The best day of my life.
A new beginning.
The beginning of the end.
You wanted me to visit you, but I’ve never really left you have I? How could I when you won’t let me…
I heard her voice but couldn’t see her. I needed to see her. I needed to look into her eyes just one more time so I could memorize all the features fading from my memory. I heard muffled voices, a man and a woman bickering, then I felt the sting on my cheek. I knew that burning sensation— someone was fucking with me, laying their hands on me.
Christine’s voice sounded in my head.
Open your eyes.
“Isn’t that right? Tell her how you’re a pussy who can’t bring himself to take his own life,” the man said. “Tell her,” he shouted.
I matched the voice with the face and forced my eyes open. I could barely hold my head up as I tried to focus my eyes on him.
“I’ll tell you whose life I’m going to take,” I slurred.
Fight!
It was like we were sixteen year olds and I was fighting some punk ass kids in the school yard, while she stood behind the gate, shouting at me to fight.
I tried to grin but I couldn’t feel my face. Still, I kept my eyes on Jimmy Gold as I promised to kill him.
“Yours,” I promised.
And I would kill him. I’d fucking make it my life’s mission to make this motherfucker suffer.
“Feeling bold are you? Maybe we should fix that,” Jimmy crooned.
Fuck you.
I closed my eyes to stop the room from spinning and I heard Christine’s voice calling out for me.
Blackie, I want you to listen. For once in your life please listen to me.
Where was she? Why couldn’t I see her? I need to see her.
Just one more time.
Her voice faded, leaving me in silence until I heard Jimmy shout. I was torn in two, one half of me willing to succumb to the oblivion the drugs provided, the drugs he injected into me. The other half struggled against the poison, reminding me I had a duty to my club and to Jack. I needed to fight.
Fight.
No one fights harder than you.
For what? What am I fighting for if you aren’t here?
Her. The girl you’re trying so hard not to fight for. The girl you won’t let in but the one that can make you better. Fight for her.
My eyes opened wide as Jimmy reared his hand back and slapped Reina across the face.
Stupid prick.
“YOU SPEAK TO ME WITH RESPECT,” he yelled.
“He will kill you,” I slurred, fighting with whatever strength I had left to keep my eyes trained on him. “Joke’s on you, Jimmy,” I managed.
That’s it, stay in the game. Keep fighting.
“What’re you talking about?” Jimmy laughed.
“She’s not some whore we take chance a piece on,” I said, licking my dry lips as I tried to form a grin. “You just laid a hand on the president’s old lady.”
“What’s he saying?” he asked Reina. She turned her head toward me and I closed my eyes, working up the strength to give her a nod.
“He’s saying you’re fucked,” she said. Then she called him a pussy and so help me God if I wasn’t half dead I would’ve laughed.
“In case you haven’t realized you’re tied up at my mercy, the only one who is fucked is you,” Jimmy sneered. I guess she insulted the motherfucker. “Well, maybe not quite yet but we can fix that,” he continued, before snapping his fingers. “And I know just the person to give you one last fuck,” he said, turning around and smiling as his eyes met mine. “It’s brilliant!”
I lifted my head as he stalked towards me, kneeling in front of me before he cupped my chin and forced me to look him in the eye.
“You want to play me, try to fool me? I’m no one’s fool. What was it you said? That you were just having a go at her before Jack came and finished her off? Yes, I believe that was it,” he said proudly. “Going to make your lies become your truth,” he warned. “And that’s how we’re going to deliver my demands to Mr. Parrish,” he released my face and turned to his henchmen. “Let’s go boys, need to set the mood!”
I drifted out, falling into the darkness that beckoned me. His voice loomed in the air. His threats and his promises echoed off the walls as I remained paralyzed by the drugs, unable to defend, to fight, to wage war against this motherfucker.
I became incoherent to whatever he said next as everything faded to black.
“Don’t lay down and die,” a voice whispered, but I was too far gone to decipher if it was Reina’s voice or the ghost of my dead wife.
In the darkness I searched for her, desperate to see her one more time, hopeful that if I did it would erase the image of her lifeless body in my arms. I’d kiss her one more time and her lips wouldn’t be cold like they were the last time they touched mine.
“Christine? Chris! We have to talk,” I shouted as I stalked through our apartment, searching for her. I needed to fix this shit with her, needed to know how deep she had become with that douche bag Brantley. I prayed to God I wasn’t too late that she didn’t turn her back on me, that she didn’t give me or my club up to the cops and more than that I prayed she didn’t give up on us, on who we used to be before I became Satan’s soldier.
Before I sold my soul to the devil.
I heard the water running in the bathroom and started down the hallway, glancing down at the water that saturated the floor. My boots sloshed through the water as I followed the stream to the bathroom and watched as it poured from the saddle of the doorway. I lifted my hand, tried to turn the doorknob, but it was locked.
“Chris!” I shouted, pounding my fist against the door.
Nothing.
I didn’t hesitate as I took a step back before charging forward, driving my shoulder into the door, tearing it off the hinge with hardly any effort. I pushed the door out of my way as the water made its way past my boots. I turned my head and then I saw her.
My world stopped.
She was faced down in the tub, her arm dangling over the edge with a needle hanging out of it.
“No, no, no,” I cried, pushing my legs through the water before bending down and lifting her body from the tub. I dropped to my knees, holding her as the water continued to run, overflowing the bathtub, drenching me. I turned her over so, her face was visible and noticed the shade of gray her skin had already turned.
“Oh, God,” I whispered as my eyes filled. I blinked through the tears, clearing my vision so my eyes could do a sweep of her body, hoping to find a shred of life left. My eyes fell on the needle still sticking out of her arm, the rubber band tied tightly around her bicep.
A nightmare.
I was living a nightmare, the same one I inflicted on the parents of those young kids that overdosed on my product. Did they find their children with my needle still in their arm? The blood stopped flowing for those kids but the poison stuck. Their hearts stopped, but the needle stayed.
Just like the woman in my arms.
The one I vowed to love, honor, and care for all the days of my life.
Until death do we part.
Until now.
I bent my head, closing my mouth around the needle and pulled it from her arm with my teeth, spitting it onto the floor.
My needle.
My product.
I untied the band from her arm before leaning back against the wall of the tub and cried.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered to her, leaning forward to kiss her ice cold lips.
I woke, thrashing violently as the nausea worked me over and I vomited.
“Blackie, look at me,” Reina pleaded.
So this isn’t hell.
I’m still fucking
here.
“Look at me, damn it,” she ordered.
There was nothing left, yet still I felt like I needed to get something up. I dry heaved over and over until my body calmed down and I could turn my cheek, wiping my mouth against the leather that covered my shoulder.
I lifted my beady eyes to Reina’s.
“You’re okay, you just need to remind yourself you’re okay,” she said, softly.
I closed my eyes.
I was okay.
But why?
Why me and not her?
I opened my eyes, blinking as I focused my attention on Reina.
“I’m not a junkie,” I whispered.
People can change whether it’s a choice or a result of circumstance… it’s possible. Picking out a grave, figuring out the words to carve into my wife’s headstone, deciding what she would wear when she was laid to rest, those were the things that forced me to change. I did the detox thing, suffered the withdrawals, thought, I was dying, prayed for it... but it never came. God didn’t spare me and take her. He made me the survivor but he didn’t grant me any favors. He knew the game he was playing when he took her and left me here. He spared her from me, granted her peace, leaving me behind to suffer without her.
Life.
It was his revenge on me.
Live.
Breathe.
A burden bestowed on me from the almighty maker of heaven and earth. Life wasn’t some divine gift, it was my punishment.
“I know,” she said. “Why is he doing this to you?”
“Because I deserve it,” I admitted, turning back to her.
Jack will lose it if anything happens to her. He deserves some kind of good after all that shit he suffered. Losing your mind is one thing but losing your child is a whole different story. That man lived a lot of life, did a lot of penance and finally was granted his divine gift and I was staring at her. I wanted to do my job, to be able to protect the club, and protecting the club meant protecting its property and Reina? She was property of Parrish but reality set in and it settled fast. I didn’t have the strength to save her in the state I was in right now. I didn’t know much about her but I knew enough to know she was a fighter.
A survivor.
Her own hero.
“Listen, Reina, you need to keep your head because as long as he keeps feeding me that shit, I’m useless. Jack’s on to him so it’s only a matter of time before he and the club gets to you.”
“To us,” she amended. “He will not leave you behind, you’re the closest thing he has to a brother. A real brother,” she added.
Brothers.
“Right,” I replied, closing my eyes. “Reina, do me a favor?”
“I’m kind of tied up right now,” she said, forcing a laugh.
I smiled slightly before the wave of nausea washed over me again.
“Oh God,” I moaned. “I need to throw up,” I mumbled, hanging my head waiting for it to pass.
“Blackie, focus, if you let that shit control you, then the poison wins,” Reina pleaded, pausing for a moment before she began again. “Tell me your real name. Blackie is your club name, right?”
“Road name,” I corrected.
“Cut me some slack, I’m new to the old lady status,” she said, her voice cracking. “Tell me your name,” she repeated.
“Dominic,” I whispered.
“Dominic,” she started. “I like Blackie, better,” she conceded.
“You’re good people, Reina,” I said.
Why was it the good always finished last?
“We will get the fuck out of here,” I declared, clearing my throat. The way I figure it, God’s not going to let me die here, under this dickbag Jimmy’s thumb. He wants me breathing, he keeps me suffering so, Reina, has a fair shot of surviving this shit.
“Jimmy blew up my truck,” I informed her.
Keep talking…Keep fighting.
“After I dropped you off I made a stop, must be when he planted the bomb,” I added.
Lacey.
I hope they left her alone. I pray to whatever God willing to hear me that she listened when I told her to stay put.
“You don’t think he planted it while I had the truck?” she questioned.
“Jack’s house is covered with cameras, anyone watches him, and it’s obvious Jimmy’s been watching us, wouldn’t be stupid enough to plant a bomb with the camera rolling,” I explained.
“So where did you go?” she asked.
It almost slipped off my tongue.
Lace.
Her.
My angel.
My light.
“We being real with one another?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“You about over the whole Jack being Danny’s brother thing? I mean when you get the fuck out of here you’re not going to hold some sort of grudge over the man’s head are you?”
It was time for me to pass the torch to Reina. It was time for her to battle Jack’s demons with him, it was her job to wear down his maker.
“I’m over it,” Reina stated “I don’t like being lied to, but…” she attempted to shrug her shoulders.
“I love him,” she whispered.
Love.
It keeps us holding on.
Even when we don’t know we’ve got it.
Even when we don’t know we have a little left in us to give.
It’s one of the divine gifts.
One of the few.
“Hold onto that, what you feel for him, it’ll help,” I said.
She stared at me silent for a moment before she spoke.
“What are you holding on to?” she asked hoarsely.
I looked away as Christine whispered all the words I never knew I needed to hear.
Let me go Blackie.
It’s time.
It’s not too late to change.
Change your life.
You did it once before.
You did it for me.
Change your life.
Do it for her.
But mostly, do it for you.
You.
“Which question do you want me to answer? Where I went after I dropped you off or what I’m holding on to?” I asked, finally.
“Something tells me both questions have the same answer,” she said, softly.
“Yeah,” I agreed, diverting my eyes to the floor.
A memory flashed before my eyes, the same memory I struggled to remember this morning when I held Lacey in my arms and she asked me if I remembered the first time she called me Leather.
I don’t know why the memory came now, but it did and when I needed it the most.
“Lace? Oh we’re doing the nickname thing?” She said mockingly, like a true smart ass. She was insisting I take a sip of her milkshake. “Fine. C’mon Leather, live dangerously,” she teased.
“Leather?” I asked.
“Leather and Lace. You and me,” she affirmed as she smiled at me.
That smile.
Man, I was gone.
She had the power to heal me, even if it was only temporary.
I lifted my eyes back to Reina’s.
“Leather and Lace,” I whispered.
Because the idea of me and her—it was all I had left.
The door opened, jarring the both of us and we turned our eyes to one of Jimmy’s men. He carried a leather pouch tucked under his arm and knelt before me. He unzipped the bag and pulled a vile out, followed by a syringe.
Lace.
Her.
He roughly grabbed my outstretched arm and tied a band around it.
“Don’t,” Reina yelled. “Can’t you see he’s not a threat to you people? Why are you doing this to him?”
I turned my head to Reina, but all I saw was Lacey’s face. My angel with the sweet smile and sad eyes.
“It’s all good, Reina,” I said, biting the inside of my cheek.
“Leather and lace,” Reina whispered as the needle pricked my skin.
I closed
my eyes and remembered dancing with her, holding her close as we blocked out the rest of the world.
A world where there was no maker.
A world where there were no drugs.
And Jimmy fucking Gold didn’t exist.
The heroin took over.
Fight.
For her.
“Leather and lace,” I slurred, fighting with every fiber of my being to get those words out.
Her.
Chapter Eight
I used to think drugs took me to heaven, and if I’m being honest, when shit gets rough, I look for the easy way out. I’ll hit the bottle and think I’m escaping hell. The truth is drugs are my hell; they numb the pain for a while but if I don’t stay high all the time eventually I wake up, the numbness fades and the pain is only intensified. It’s not just the mental pain that is worse but it’s the physical pain which wasn’t there before the drugs, but is present now. A pain so severe you forget about the original demons that haunt you and lead you to the drugs, a pain that tears through you and makes you wish were dead. It’s a pain you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy.
Well, maybe that isn’t entirely true.
I wish worse for Jimmy Gold.
A whole lot worse.
I’d like to cut his dick off and feed it to him as he bled out.
I hear his voice and decide that I’d rip the cocksucker’s dick off with a pair of dirty pliers.
“Should we give him another hit?” One of his men asked.
Him? He’s going to get his eyes ripped from their sockets with an ice cream scoop, or maybe a melon baller. Fuck that, I’ll carve them out with my knife.
“Not yet,” Jimmy murmured, crouching down before me as he took my face in his hands. “Time to give your president a message,” he said, slapping my cheeks. “Take the cuffs off him,” he ordered to the man standing behind him.
One of the first times Jack found me fucked up he smacked me across the face and told me to stand up. I remember thinking it was physically impossible and refused. You don’t refuse Jack Parrish. Ever. He pulled me to my feet, holding me under my arms until I found my balance.
“You don’t have to drown. You got legs that work, you stand the fuck up and keep moving. But if you don’t get on your feet and you choose to drown in the poison, then you’re a fucking pussy.”
Jimmy rose to his feet, spinning on his heel, and pointed a finger at the other man. “Get the phone ready; make sure the lighting is clear so when we shoot the video there is no mistaking what Jack Parrish will be seeing.”
Lethal Temptations (Tempted #5) Page 8