J. Salsbury - Fighting to Forget

I roll out of bed and look for my panties on the floor. I squint to distinguish one piece of clothing from the other out of the mass that covers the floor. I settle on one of Hatch’s dirty shirts and slide it over my head. A wave of dizziness washes over me and I fight to stay upright.

“Fuck.” I rub my temples. It must be later than I thought. Usually I don’t get like this until the afternoon.

Stumbling over empty beer cans and biker boots, I finally make it to the door. The blare of country music and deep voices filter through from the other side. Yep, definitely the afternoon.

I stagger out of the room and down the long hallway into the living room. My eyes scour the smoky air, looking for Hatch. I spot him on the couch with an MC slut straddling his lap. Typical.

In a few achy steps I’m at his side. I cross my arms at my stomach to keep from giving away the tremors that are wracking my body. “Hatch, can I talk to you for a sec?”

He looks up at me and glares. “I’m busy.”

I look to the girl whose eyes are closed, her head dropped to the side as if she’s having a hard time holding it up. “Um . . . yeah, I know. I’m sorry, but I need a hit.”

His expression softens. “Yeah? You hurtin’?”

I nod and tighten my arms around my torso.

He smacks the girl on her bare thigh and she jumps. “Up.”

She struggles, but Hatch doesn’t wait and shoves her aside where she falls like dead weight on the couch. He tucks me into his side. “Come on, Annie. Let’s get you taken care of.”

Annie. All the bikers caught on to the nickname given to me by Zip when I stumbled into this life. The red hair fought for their cause, and Annie stuck.

I snuggle into him, grateful that for the first time in as far as I can remember someone cared about me. I know, logically, that his feeding me drugs and taking my body whenever he wants isn’t ideal, but it’s more than I’ve ever had. And for now, it’s good enough.

When I’m high, the dreams stay away. My drug-induced haze placates the demons so that they can’t remind me of all I’ve lost.

We head back to his room where he leaves me on the bed and goes to his safe. The tremors are getting bad, and I can’t keep the muscles in my legs from jumping. I rock back and forth. Keep moving, always keep moving.

“Here ya go, baby.”

I look up and he’s pouring out a small white line of powder along the edge of his thumb. “Thank you, Hatch.”

He holds his hand out and nods. Like a starving child being offered a meal, I grip his wrist and pull it to my nose. I push against one side of my nose and suck back the white powder. The back of my nose and throat burn for an instant before they numb. My head zaps back to clarity and my muscles release their grip on my body.

“More, please.”

He grips my chin and presses his lips against mine hard. The smell of stale cigarettes and booze floods my senses.

“You’re hot when you beg.” He pours out another line and I jump on it, starving for the sweet relief I know it brings.

He tosses the small bag onto the bed at my side. “Make it last.”

I scamper to it, grabbing the bag and curling it into the protection of both hands. “Okay, I will.”

He tilts his head and looks down at me. I can tell by the way his eyes darken, he’s expecting payment. I take a deep breath and remind myself that this is what I’ve agreed to. I don’t hate Hatch. He’s given me more than I deserve. I’m afraid to lose him.

He fumbles with his belt and unzips his jeans. His hand glides over my tangled hair. “I like this color, Annie. Suits you.” His fist tightens against my scalp, but I’m too numb to register pain. “Hurry up. I’ve got shit to do.”

Rex

“Em, I gotta go.” I trail a few soft kisses up her neck to her jaw. “We’ll grab breakfast in the morning.”

“Mmm . . .” She nods and tilts her head to allow my lips more room to explore.

I smile against her neck. Being with Emma like this has been great for my therapy. She has no problem taking things slow, and I’ve been able to ease back into being physical with a woman.

After my fallout with Gia, the realization of what had happened to me, the guilt, shame, made me want to axe off my own dick. I needed a constant reminder of how dirty I am—a physical representation of my disease.

The piercing itself took seconds, but the feeling of a heavy barbell between my legs reminds me of what I’ll never do again. Where I’ll never go again.

She groans when I pull back from her neck.

“Will you ever stay over?” Her cheeks are flushed, her words breathless.

No. “Maybe.” I can’t tell her the truth. My body doesn’t respond to her the way it should. That’s why I like being with her. I don’t have to worry about getting hard just because she looks at me a certain way. There’s no fear of being overcome and throwing her facedown onto my bed to have my way with her.

With her, I’m safe.

She’s safe.

Content.

Happy?

“But I don’t understand.” She thrusts her fists down, punching the stiff cushions of the couch. “Your bed is, like, ten yards from mine. What’s the big deal?”

Her bed. Those two words hang heavy in the air and bring a wave of memories with them: sitting in this very spot, feeling as if I were going to claw my way out of my skin, Mac, like some gothic princess sound asleep, the sound of her nightmares and how she threw herself in my arms when she woke up.

My stomach tosses with guilt. Me. She was dreaming of me.

We were so close and I had no idea she was the little girl from my past.

Gia, my savior in the dark.

I wanted to remember so badly. I felt lost without the knowledge of my past. And now that I have it all back, I’d give it away tomorrow for the chance of one more night with Gia.

“Rex!” Emma grips my thigh and I jerk it from her hold. “What’s going on?”

I shake my head. “Nothing, I’m sorry.”

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but sometimes I get the feeling you’re, I don’t know, seeing someone else?”

“Em, no. I’m not seeing anyone else.” At least not physically. My heart is owned by another, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be happy with Emma.

She chews her bottom lip then looks up at me. “I thought guys were all about sex, you know? I mean we’ve been together now for a while and all we ever do is kiss.”

Fuck. When she puts it that way . . .

“I promise you I’d never hook up with anyone behind your back.” Frustration pricks at my nerves. I suppose I should’ve expected this sooner or later, but I’m not comfortable telling Emma about my past, not now, not fucking ever.

“What are . . .?” She narrows her eyes. “Wait, Rex, are you gay?”

Wrong. Question.

“Fuck you!” I shove off from the couch, my pulse rocketing in my ears.

“Oh, no, wait, I didn’t mean that.” Her eyes fill up with tears. “I’m sorry. It’s just—”

“I get it. You think because I’m not fuckin’ your brains out every day I must be gay.”

She jerks from my words. “No.”

“You’re right, Em. When I leave here, I have a string of women waiting who suck me off before bed.”

A sob rips from her throat.

“Why are you crying? It’s what you want to hear, right?”

“No.”

“But those are the categories a guy like me gets to choose from. I’m either a two-timing dick who fucks anything with a pulse, or I’m gay.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand.”

“Understand what? I thought things were easy between us.”

“They are, but I want more.”

More. Fuck.

I sigh and study the coffee table. I can’t do more, not with her, maybe not with anyone. A voice in my head whispers that there’s one girl I’d give more to, but I chased her off.

“I’m sorry.” I look up at her and see the beautiful chestnut hair, the sweet face and innocent eyes. Clean. Good. Not a hint of crazy. She deserves better. God, what was I thinking? “Em, I can’t do more.”

She takes in a shaky breath. “Is it me? You’re not attracted to me or—”

“No. It’s me.” I have to give her something. She deserves something. But what? “Friends?” It’s shitty, but I mean it. I don’t want to lose her.

Her tear-filled eyes peer up at me, and a soft smile tilts her lips. “Sure. We’ll always be friends.”

My chest twists at the sincerity of her words. Damn, she’s a good woman, the total opposite of what I need.

I lean over, place a quick kiss on her forehead, then turn and walk away.

Once outside, the cool air slaps me in the face. I dig my hands into my hair and take a few deep breaths. It was the right thing to do. She may hurt now, but it’s better to cut things off before things get more complicated.

I thought having a relationship with Gia would be impossible. I mean how could I have a relationship with a girl who knows every intimate and shameful detail of my life? It would make things awkward at best. But maybe I was wrong.

Gia didn’t try to fight my demons, make them bow or wrestle them into submission. She embraced them, accepted them as part of me, loved me despite them, and arguably even loved them.

And it’s that love and acceptance that quieted them, soothed them, and kept them compliant.

After all, what is evil if it has nothing to fight?