Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
I push the partition button and scream at Robert to take me to the compound.
“I’m so sorry. What’s a compound? Do you have an address?” He looks at us in his mirror.
“Oh my God, Robert, I don’t have time for this. Doug, tell him.” I snatch my cigarettes and light up, hoping it calms me. How the hell am I going to win him back?
I sit up and reach for Doug. “We need to stop by my place first.”
Poor Robert looks confused. “Keep going. I’ll direct you.” Doug wraps his arm around me. “Thank God you have seen the light.” He smirks as he steals my cigarette, frowning as he takes in my appearance.
“Maybe I should take it from here. You need a quick touch-up.”
I sigh leaning my head on his shoulder as he passes back the cigarette. “Don’t ever get mad at me again.”
“Don’t ever make me have to tough love you again.” He kisses the top of my head and rests his chin on me. “I want you to go and get your biker, Baby Doll.”
EDGE
Thirty-one years old
I left her before the sun came up. At most, I slept for about two hours. I lay awake to hold her, smell her, and give her time before I made my silent exit.
The darkness of our suite and her calm breathing gave me a moment of peace before I got up and left my soul, my very being with her. I picked up my shit, including my destroyed clothes, and walked out.
The cool morning air should have refreshed me. But I barely notice as I’m dead inside. Without her, I’m an unhappy man. Unhappiness is tricky. It’s a sneaky beast that devours a person, festering day by day. Until one day you wake up and the unhappiness has eaten you up and you’re mean. You spit your bad energy at others and hope to feel alive.
My father. Jesus Christ, without her, is that going to be me?
I almost don’t remember the Uber ride. Blade and Axel were waiting for me. Eve decided to stay in Vegas to help Charlie and David with the baby.
I drank bourbon and OJ the whole forty-five-minute plane ride back to the Hollywood Burbank Airport and passed out the last ten minutes of the trip.
I stumbled into the black Tahoe ignoring the confused prospect who was driving. No one uttered a word. No one said Congratulations. Nothing but the wind on the SUV and the orange blossom smell alert me that we’re home.
Home.
Fucking joke. I was supposed to be on my honeymoon with my wife, lying poolside, drinking margaritas, and fucking all day and night, not dragging my ass back here.
“I’m sorry, man. I heard what happened.” I blink at Ripper, opening my eyes wide to see him. I think I dozed off even though I offered to help him with his bike. I almost ask him what he heard, but I’m too tired to care.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat, crack my neck, and stand up.
Ripper’s laid back unless you piss him off. Then he lives up to his name. He and Axel are tight. Going into the marijuana dispensary business early was smart. Both of them are making a killing.
Pulling out my cigarettes, I light up and look around the compound. Flowers and kids’ toys are scattered along the gravel. All my brothers’ bikes are parked in a row, the massive amount of chrome making me squint as the sun bounces off the bikes.
Closing my eyes, I tilt my head back letting the sun warm my face instead of blinding me. “Where’d you get this bike again?”
“An ex-girlfriend’s brother collects vintage Harleys.” He chuckles. I open my eyes and watch him smile at something he texts.
“Yeah…” He pockets his phone. “We’re still tight even though his sister is a fucking cunt. He brought it over as a gift.” He reaches for the joint he balanced on the porch railing. “I told him he had found the love of my life.”
Fuck, I wish I was him. Swap bodies and let all my pain be his. I want to be naïve enough to think that the love of my life is a bike.
“Start it up.”
He gets on, and it takes five times to turn over, instantly backfiring. “You hear that? That’s what I need your help with. I can’t figure out what it is,” he yells.
I want to yell back, No shit. I don’t because I’m not an ass. But what the hell? Of course, I can hear it. Instead, I nod and motion for him to rev it up. Mindless energy—that’s what I need. Get my hands greasy and stop thinking about her, my marriage, all the crap that I’m so fucking sick of.
“Rip. Heads up.” Axel walks up drinking a beer and throwing one at him.