Page 19 of Anchor

He’s my only, and he has been since we met, but he can’t say the same, right?

My tears shine yet again, and I blink, trying to hide them before the door opens. I see my mother, and internally, I sigh. Anger shines in her eyes, and I swallow hard, unwilling to hear this again.

“Mom, not now,” I demand, “this is a celebration my son organized.”

She snorts. “For that man to try and win you back and then hurt you again, you mean?” I look down, already tired of this. She snaps, “Don’t you dare take him back, Heaven. He cheated on you, he found pleasure from another woman, enjoyed it more than he ever did you on your wedding anniversary, which he forgot….”

Even though this is the same song and dance every time she’s found out I’ve seen Travis, which is a lot considering I have a child with him, it still hurts.

“I mean it, Heaven. We both know he’s only doing this because he wants full custody of Micha. Do not let it happen.” That said, she turns and leaves, and my tears fall.

When you hear the same thing repeatedly from the woman who raised you and has a negative reaction to men, you begin to believe it, and I know I need to try and distance myself again. I can feel myself wanting to give in, wanting to give him a second chance, to try, but then Mom pops up like she just did, pushing me back down, reminding me of the pain that has consumed me for ten years, which is ridiculous.

I should be over this by now.

And besides, she’s right. He found pleasure with my high school bully, who is still around at the club. To this day, if she sees me, she’ll gloat about their past together.

Travis and I…out relationship ended the moment he left me alone with our son on our anniversary, and it is time we both move on.

7

Anchor – One Week Later

I nod thanks to the new prospect, Gio, as he places a beer before me while the brothers all laugh and joke behind me, completely oblivious to my pain and torment.

But I guess that’s what happens when no one knows about my life outside the fucking club.

I’m sitting at the bar in the club, my back to everyone, waiting for church, but my mind is fully on my family at our old home.

Heaven should have finished her period by now, and while she was at work yesterday, I tampered with her birth control again, knowing full well she’d think I wouldn’t do it again after confronting me.

I need to be inside her again after two months of nothing, and I need to get her pregnant.

I need her back with me.

I know I fucked up, but Mom is right, it was ten years ago, and it’s time she gives me another chance. I know Heaven’s just being stubborn and trying to stand by the decision she made on the whim, hurt and heartbroken from my fuck up, and don’t get me wrong, she had every right, but now, I can’t live without her any longer.

“Hey, baby…” a voice whispers to my right just as I take a sip of my beer, and I roll my eyes.

The fucking woman doesn’t seem to know when to give up, and yeah, I get it, I’m the same with Heaven, but the fucking difference is Heaven is my wife, and I love her more than anything in this world. Ginger just wants my cut, she always has because, let’s face it, there was no secret about my childhood, who my dad is, and that I was going to join the club.

“Fuck off, Ginger,” I snap and take another sip of my beer, but she doesn’t listen; instead, she glides her hand on my flaccid dick, and anger takes over.

I grab her hand, grip it, and twist it hard.

Ginger stumbles and gasps, “Anchor,” as she grabs my arm to try and remove my grip, but I ignore her and twist harder until I hear a crack, and she screams, getting everyone’s attention.

“Anchor,” she sobs, but again, I ignore her as I stand, then push hard, causing her to fall over on her stripper heels, her ass landing with athumpon the wooden floor, flashing her cunt to everyone.

Seriously, there are kids here, and she’s wearing a short fucking dress without underwear?

She grips her arm to her chest, and I point at her and sneer in front of everyone, “When a fucking brother tells you to fuck off, then you fuck off. You do not fucking grope a brother because we both know, outside of these walls, if a man did that to a woman, it’d be sexual assault!”

I curl my lip at her, the tears coating her cheeks as fake as her fucking tits, her arm already bruising, and I growl, “Next time, you won’t get a broken wrist; I’ll fucking slit your throat!”

Shaking my head at the bitch, I step over her and walk to the room where we hold church, refusing to look at the brothers.

If they want to side with her, then they fucking can because I’m at the end of my tether. It has been ten years of fighting for my girl and her not wanting to give me a chance, and I’m ready to blow.

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