Page 104 of Dizzy

I cry myself to sleep, and I dream I’m in a beach-themed bedroom, tangled in smooth sheets, a man at my back giving off heat like a furnace. The colors are all bright and crisp like in an old animated fairy tale, the kind where birds sit on your hand and when you dance, your skirts ripple as smooth as cake batter.

I wake up with numb toes and blue lips, wind whistling through cracks around the window.

12

DIZZY

Ilove you.

That’s all I had to say.

Of course, it’s real. I ain’t never felt this way before in my life. You’re it for me.

How hard is that to say? Instead my brain whirred around like a slot machine. She’s too young. You can’t put that on her. She’s gonna find herself and leave your ass. You don’t have the right to take what you want.

I stand in the middle of this stupid fuckin’ living room, fists clenched, lookin’ for something to punch. And it’s all goddamn pillows.

She don’t know I feel this way. She’s somewhere with the Rebel Fuckin’ Raiders, thinkin’ I’d let her be killed, and the one time I really have to find the right words, I come up with nothin’.

Fuck.

I hate this goddamn room. I hate this house.

I should have told her I’m buying her a new one. I been lookin’ at the listings. There’s a lot for sale on Harper and Charge’s street. It’s scheduled for new construction. She can do it up however she likes.

God. She’s eighteen. She don’t want a house. But what does she want? What would make her stay?

She was thinkin’ about it. In the woods, by the stream. She was letting down her walls.

I should have never left her alone with Jed. That fucker. He did something. I saw Heavy’s eyes. He thinks so, too.

I need to get out of here. Do something. Get on my bike and go find her. But what if she calls again?

Heavy says he called out every able-bodied brother to look for her—and he’s beatin’ the bushes himself—but most of the club has left for Spank the Devil. He says he’ll reach out when they find her. I should stay here. If she has second thoughts—or if she figures out the Raiders are dangerous—she’s most likely to come back here.

He sounds one hundred percent confident that it’s only a matter of time. I wish I felt the same.

Her stuff is here. The sad fuckin’ backpack filled with tuna and canned soup that she thinks I don’t know about. The knife’s gone. Smart girl. She must have grabbed it. She didn’t see the roll of twenties I stuck in the bottom of the sack, though. That’s still there.

She’s with the Raiders, and she’s got no cash.

If she realizes who she’s dealing with and she runs, she’s got nothing.

My stomach sours, and I swallow down the urge to puke.

I’m gonna kill them. I’m gonna start with the dirtbag who picked her up, and if anyone else touched her, I’m gonna keep goin’ until the whole club is bones and gristle under my boots.

I stalk to the window.

I can’t just stay here.

I glare at the phone and will it to ring. I tried *69. She blocked me. And the phone doesn’t have caller ID.

If anyone is touching her, they’ll die. It’s as simple as that.

I could have told her that. Would that have scared her? Or would she have told me where she was?

My body’s thrumming with adrenaline. I ain’t never felt like this. Not even under fire, back in the sandbox. She’s got me charged up. Totally changed. And it ain’t been hardly no time at all.

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