Page 38 of Renegade

“Yeah, the last twelve hours have really helped me understand how much I love pizza. I just don’t think I’m ready to give it up. Pizza for life…or some shit like that.”

I could hear him talking to someone in the background. “You believe this shit, C? After all your hard work laying the leftover dough out on the beach, this shithead decides he wants pizza now.”

“Not a fucking chance,” my father growled. “Once a traitor, always a traitor.”

Well, that was about what I’d expected.

David watched me expectantly and I had to look away. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that there was a slight chance he might not make it on his honeymoon after all.

Grey clicked his tongue against his teeth. “You hear that, Mikey? C’s feelings are hurt. I think he’s afraid that if you come back, you’ll just change your mind a few months down the line.”

I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me. “No sir, absolutely not. Let’s just say that I’ve seen the alternative to a life without pizza and it’s a life I don’t want. Just give me another chance. I’ll get the fucking pizza any way you want it.”

“So, you’ll order it the way we say to order it and quit going off and doing things your own way?” His tone was the same as it had been the night before, but I didn’t miss the threat in his words this time around.

“No, whatever you want. I’m in.”

There was silence for a few seconds and then he was back. “You’ve been granted a reprieve. We’ll have that pizza over to you directly. One condition though—the hard drinking ends today. Get it out of your system because the liquor clouds your judgment and makes you a liability. Are we clear?”

“Yep. It’s done.”

I hung up the phone and stared at the ticker on the screen, wondering how long it would be before the story changed. The club was powerful, I don’t think I’d realized the extent until I was on their bad side.

“So?” David leaned into my face.

I nodded. “It’s being taken care of—may have just sold my soul to Satan, but it looks like you’ll get the honeymoon of your dreams after all, Pumpkin.”

Lauren

March 2014

When I left Galveston after David and Elizabeth’s wedding, I vowed to take better care of myself and to find a man like Jack. I’d even searched the beach as we drove away, hoping to see a surfer with dirty blond hair out on the water.

Putting my plan into action had been a lot harder than I imagined though. The trouble was that men like Jack didn’t exist in Lubbock. Oh, and the fact that I still worked for a tyrant who didn’t believe in self-care. Well, when it came to me anyway.

I even tried to lower my standards and told myself that I would look for a man like David—sure, he never smiled and always looked ready to fight, but he was head over heels for Elizabeth.

The results were the same, regardless.

Jack had been the last man to kiss me.How sad was that?

In addition to paying the steady stream of parking and toll violations that seemed to come in the mail every month, I’d also invested a lot of my paycheck in more phallic sculptures, just to keep myself sane. Here I was, almost four years later, in the exact same boat I’d started out in.

I’d taken to studying Elizabeth over the last few months to try and decipher what it was that drew David to her. Marriage hadn’t changed things for them—if anything, it made them stronger. He would send flowers to the office for no reason. She’d look at the card and give this secret smile, as if she was newly in love, before running to the shredder to destroy it.

I found that part odd.

If my husband were sending me love notes, I’d keep them in a special box so that I could show them to my children and grandchildren someday.

The more I watched Elizabeth, the more I found her behavior strange. Lately, she’d become distant at work, completing her tasks as if she were a robot. I waited until there was a lull in the schedule before confronting her by the copier.

“Who died?” I placed my hand on my hip.

Elizabeth looked at me with wide eyes, “What are you talking about?”

I dropped the hand from my hip and snapped my fingers in her face, “You! You walk around here like you’re in a dream and I figure someone you love must be dying.”

She glanced around before lowering her voice, “Look, I don’t want to talk about it here. Can we go to lunch somewhere?”

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