Page 43 of Deserter

I’d been showing up while my guys were busy sleeping off the night before. Nobody else needed to know what I was doing.

As usual, Celia was one of the last ones out the door. She was wearing another dress with bell sleeves. This one was cream with a pale pink sash and it showcased her curves like a fuckin’ dream. I couldn’t take my eyes off her tan skin, soft tits, and hips that were built for my hands.

Some prick in a letter jacket came up and slung his arm around her shoulders and she grinned as he said something in her ear. I gripped the handlebars and resisted the urge to break the kid’s face.

“She’s gotta get to the library, asshole,” I growled, as if he could hear me. That was her routine—on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, Celia studied at the library. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, she hit up a record store that just so happened to be located next door to my tattoo parlor.

At least she had for the last week.

She shook her head and hitched her book bag up on her shoulder with a frown. The prick laughed and said something else and her head dropped.

I lit a cigarette and watched as the group of guys the kid had walked out with made their way over to give him high-fives before heading my way.

I checked to make sure that Celia had gone on before asking, “Something funny?”

Their heads shot up and Letter Jacket took one look at my bike before smirking. “You here for your whore? I think I saw her go that way.”

I was off my bike and hauling him up by the collar of his jacket as he turned to point. “You don’t talk to her, you don’t fuckin’ look at her. You so much as breathe in her direction and I will find you and castrate you in front of your buddies here. We clear?”

He nodded quickly, and I dropped him onto the pavement before climbing back onto my bike. “The same goes for the rest of you fuckers too.”

My Springer Softail roared to life, and I left them to piss their pants while I went in search of Celia. I kept her in my sights but stayed where she couldn’t see me.

She disappeared into the library and I parked a few buildings down, ready to wait the two hours it normally took her to study. Celia’s mother would then pick her up and drive her over to Saint Mary’s for evening confession.

Every single night.

Ma had been sleeping with Angel for years behind my old man’s back and she’d only attended confession once a week and then quit altogether after losing the baby.

Celia’s ma must’ve felt that I’d damned her soul to Hell.

The door to the library opened, and she reappeared, checking up and down the street before crossing. She’d never done this before. I blew out a ring of smoke and hopped off my bike to follow.

It had rained the night before, leaving behind cooler weather and humidity so thick you could cut it with a knife. Celia dodged a puddle and checked her surroundings again before slipping past a rusted gate to the cemetery.

I waited until she sat down beneath a large oak tree before stepping out of the shadows. “Celia.”

She startled at the sound of my voice before looking up at me coldly. “Grey, what are you doing here?”

I glanced around at the sea of headstones and then back at her. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Didn’t know you owned this too, although it’s fitting.” Her chin jutted up defiantly and my jeans grew tighter.

She looked even better up close.

She was wearing a brown leather choker with yellow fringe that dangled down in between the swell of her tits and I suddenly couldn’t remember my own name, much less why I’d decided to follow her here. She arched an eyebrow, clearly waiting for a response.

“You’re supposed to be studying at the library until five-thirty.”

“Are you following me now?” Her thumb absently stroked the necklace pulling my attention back down to her chest. “Grey, answer me. You said, and I quote,‘Get the fuck out of here, Celia.’So, why are you here?”

I rubbed the back of my neck and paced across the damp grass. “Fuck, Celia, I don’t know. I just—why’d you have to go to the bar?”

I was losing control of the situation.

She retrieved a book from her bag and shrugged, refusing to look at me. “I don’t know. I thought I wanted to see you again.”

“And now?” I swallowed hard.

---