Page 55 of Anchor

Travis grips the wheel, anger radiating from him, and he growls, “What fucking feelings, Heaven? All I’m saying is to wait for me for an hour!”

I shake my head at his audacity, and I say as calmly as I can, “I’ve just been discharged from the hospital,” his body deflates, “I smell like shit, I ache, and instead of taking me to my own home, you’ve brought me to the club, but I kept quiet, and now you’re demanding I wait for you in there?”

He huffs, “Heaven, it’s just an hour. The brothers want to get to know my wife, and you can get to know them. Dad will sit with you.”

I look down at the ring he put back on my finger, the urge to throw it building inside me. I look his way, making eye contact with his closed-off eyes. I ask, “And tell me, Anchor….” He scowls, but I ignore it and demand, “Is she in there right now?”

His eyes widen, his mouth parts and understanding shines off him, and I nod.

“Of course,” I say before I open the door and slowly climb out of the truck.

“Heaven!” he snaps, but I ignore him and hobble back toward the gate, where the prospect is furrowing his brows. “Heaven!” he shouts again, but again, I ignore him and give the confused prospect a smile.

“Hi,” I say, and he gives me a small wave in confusion, but his mouth soon opens when I say, “I’m sorry about this, but it seems that ass hasn’t learned his lesson in ten years.” Then I slam my mouth against the poor guy’s mouth, hard, his lips feeling unnatural to me but I preserve, especially when the guy kisses me back.

“What the fuck?” I hear Travis roar out in anger, and I break the kiss and stand in front of the guy I know will lose his life if I don’t.

I tilt my head. “Now, you look ready to kill, right Anchor?” He flares his nostrils, but I ignore his anger. I say, “Maybe I should allow him to fuck me from behind, and you can watch, and then I’ll gladly go into that building where the woman you cheated on me with is, yeah?”

“Heaven,” he breathes, but I point at him and snap, “No! Yet again, all you are thinking about is yourself, the same old Travis, meaning weeks of therapy, all of your promises, were fucking lies!”

He drops his head, puts his hands on his hips, and says, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think, I just?—”

I cut him off, “There is no ‘I’m sorry’ here, Anchor.” His head shoots up in anger. “You’ve just proved everything you told me was coming out of your ass. You expected me to sit in that room for a whole fucking hour, after being discharged from the hospital after a month of being in a fucking coma, with a woman who can get into my head and explain how great your dick felt!”

I curl my lips at him before spinning on my heels, trying to ignore the thumping in my head and the weak feeling in my legs as I march out of the gate.

“Fuck’s sake, Heaven, where are you going?” he says loudly.

I lift my bad hand and reply, “I’m going home where I expect to find all my stuff and my son within the next twenty-four hours, or I’m pressing charges!”

“Uh, brother, what's going on?” I hear someone ask, but I don’t stop.

My head hurts, my legs feel wobbly, and all I want is a bubble bath while dreaming of throwing darts at my naïve, stupid husband’s head!

22

Anchor – One Week Later

I tap my finger against my leg, my eyes on my left hand on my other leg. The black tattooed ring is the only thing I can focus on.

I’m a fucking idiot….

Drowning in my sorrows for what I put my wife through, trapping her only for her to lose our baby, I forgot Ginger was still around and expected my wife to sit in her presence for an hour while I was at church.

I only went to the hospital to let her know I’d be later than usual, needing to see her if only for a minute, still staying with her at night, but this time, her body basically sleeping on top of mine, only to find her sitting in the chair, shocking me.

I didn’t have time to process anything. She keeps trying to ask how I got the bruises, which I keep dodging, knowing she’ll kick my ass.

I’m expecting her to blame me for the baby, but nothing, and it’s killing me. My head is all over the place because I know I’m to blame for her going through that trauma, and she hasn’t screamed and shouted at me yet, hence my not thinking about who was at the club.

Like I said, I’m a fucking idiot, and now, she won’t talk to me, not one fucking word.

Idiot, idiot, idiot….

“John is back to guard duty today,” Steal says as he side-eyes me and nudges my arm, getting my attention, but I don’t react.

What the fuck did he expect me to do, the fucker kissed my wife!

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