Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Looking back, I realize it was nothing more than a Band-Aid when I needed so much more. I look at Sully, then try to smile. I’m not sure it even looks like one. I can’t remember the last time I truly smiled.
“Sometimes it’s breathing that hurts the most,” I confess finally.
He nods slowly. As if he’s remembering something long-forgotten. Or perhaps he’s recalling the moment his mother offered him the sentiment. I wonder briefly if she’s no longer in his life. Did she die? I don’t ask. I can’t bring myself to delve into his heartache, even though I want to. He doesn’t say anything more, merely sits with me in silence. It’s comfortable, and I bask in it for a moment.
“Sometimes, when ye breathe in for long enough, ye heal from the agony that steals the air from yer lungs,” he tells me after moments of solitude. “Life is fecked-up.”
I nod because I agree wholeheartedly. However, there’s nothing for me to offer to continue this line of conversation. If I say anything, it will have to be the truth, and I can’t tell him that.
Sully looks at me again. “But there are good people out in the world. I’m not claimin’ to know what ye went through or understand why ye stayed, but obviously somethin’ must’ve made ye believe that he could change.”
His assumption has my eyes dragging over to where he’s still sitting, watching me. His heavy leather boots flat on the linoleum that looks like puke. The contrast of his dark with the creamy color surrounding him is strange.
“I believed lies.” My voice is a soft croak as the pain of the memories slowly sinks back in. It’s as if reality and the past mingle together in a sordid dance.
“Perhaps, but ye had hope.”
Those dark eyes that hold so much kindness pierce me. The armor I’ve built over the years hasn’t been broken, and yet this stranger seems to know how to nudge at it.
“Hope is a fucking lie as well. It’s a fruitless emotion that will not serve anyone well if they hold onto it. I’ve given up on hope, left it at the doorstep when I walked out of his apartment.” My words are harsh, angry, but they’re not aimed at Sully. They’re spat at a man who isn’t here. One I can never face again.
“Do ye have family over here?” he asks then, bringing me back to the present.
It’s as if he knows my mind wants to run away with me. It wants to disappear right back in the past where there’s blood dripping from between my legs, from my nose. Where my lungs don’t work, because I was shoved against a cold, concrete wall. To the moment I was burned with a lighter for smiling at someone. The night when I was on the floor curled in agony after he’d decided it was time to try new things sexually.
“My uncle travels a lot, so I don’t see him often. He was the one who got me this gig,” I say as I gesture around me.
The hospital isn’t bad. I’ve seen worse. When Rogan was taken into rehab, I went with him to see where he would be staying, then I went to visit him daily. That place was a shithole. But then, he did get in with the wrong crowd. Bikers. Outlaws. Sully looks like one, but he doesn’t have that air of menace following him around, not like the guys Rogan hung out with.
“Well, if ye’re needin’ a place to lay yer head when ye’re out of here, then I can offer ye that.” Sully shrugs as he looks at me. The idea of living with someone, another man, only sends warning bells ringing in my head. “I mean, not with me,” he says, as if he’s reading my mind. “But at the clubhouse of a friend of mine. You’ll have other women there. My friend Monster—well, that’s his road name—and his wife live in the house as well. She’s a good’un. Sweet girl. She’ll look after ye.”
“And who is Monster?” I ask, curious.
“He’s the President of the Royal Bastards Motorcycle Club in Belfast. He’s a good man. Took me in when I needed it. And I know he’ll want to help if I tell him ’bout ye,” he tells me with a proud smile. “He’s my best friend.”
“A motorcycle club? I don’t know.” I shake my head.
I’ve spent too long around a testosterone-filled home. My anxiety would be skyrocketing every time I’m near any one of them. He did say there are women there, but… Can I do it?
“Ye don’t have to tell me now, Lucky.” Sully grins, showing me a smile that reaches inside my chest and grips my heart. “I’ll be out of here in three days, though, so don’t take too long to think about it. Once ye tell me yer decision, I can set it up easily. No bother.”