Page 55 of Saving Blood

“Since the whole passport is going to be a fake, I guess it doesn’t matter, does it?”

“How did you learn how to do that—answer a question without really answering?”

“Says the outlaw biker.”

“Right, I’m an outlaw biker, so I’ve been double-dealing and lying about shit most of my adult life, but if the birth year you gave Ricky is true, then you’re only twenty-two.”

“That’s right.”

“So, how did someone who’s only twenty-two learn life’s lessons so fast?”

“Survival.”

The one-word answer opens another can of fuckin’ worms.

I lower myself into the chair, mentally exhausted from her back and forth. Making believe she’s telling me the truth, then double-backing with another lie.

“Someday you’re gonna have to let somebody in, let somebody help you.”

“And that somebody is you?” Her words drip with sarcasm.

“I don’t know.” I jerk my chin to her bruised face. “But you sure ain’t doin’ a good job of it by yourself.”

She pushes out of the chair, her eyes on fire. “Who are you to talk? You’ve got a whole club of brothers behind you, always covering your back. What do you know about standing up for yourself, fighting for everything and being alone?”

She spins around and stomps toward the door.

I rush behind her and slap my palm on the splintered wood, slamming the door shut, caging my body behind her.

She looks over her shoulder and nods toward the glass wall. “Everyone can see us.”

“I don’t give a shit.” I grind my hips against her ass. “Maybe I’ll just fuck you right here against this door, put on a little show for everyone to see, ‘cause fuckin’ seems to be the only time you’re honest with me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means your body doesn’t lie, can’t lie with the way it responds to me,” I rasp in her ear, letting the heat of my breath sear her skin. “The way it gives me what I need and takes what I offer. It’s the only fuckin’ time you’re real. No fake stories, no lies, just you and me giving and taking.”

I grab her hip, twisting her around. The swell of her breasts rises and falls as she gasps in little spurts of air. Anger, no—frustration etched over her face.

“If only you’d trust me.” I thread my fingers into her hair, loosening her braid. “I know I could help you.”

“You helping me and me trusting you wouldn’t end well for either of us.” She squirms out of my hold, and I don’t try to stop her. “After tomorrow night, you won’t have to worry about me anymore, ‘cause I’ll be long gone— a little less than a memory.”

MAXINE

Blood steps aside, and I slip through the door, immersing myself in the crowd, the noise, the hard pounding music of the gym, anything to distract my brain and my body. Blood’s words echo in my head with truth. Sex was the only time I truly gave myself over to Blood. It was a safe space, a place where I didn’t have to think about yesterday or tomorrow. A place where I could just be.

I long to tell Blood about fixing the fight, but going against Hector has way worse results than going against Blood. If I deceive Blood, he would hate me, but if I go against Hector, he will kill me—or worse. I know firsthand how he doles out punishment. Almost like he knows a person’s weakest link and incorporates it, but I can’t think of any of that now.

In thirty-six hours, I’ll be gone from this place forever.

Eye on the prize—Eye on the prize.

Away from Mexico, and far, far away from the horrors of Hector. It won’t be easy to start a new life, but, after surviving the last five years, I can withstand anything thrown at me.

Late at night, when I can’t sleep, I fantasize about living in a remote town maybe in the middle of the country. Wyoming, Colorado, maybe even go up north to Montana. Far away from my birth state of Oklahoma or California, where my life imploded.

No more living just below the radar; from now on, I would do everything the right way. Live a life I could be proud of instead of always hiding, fearful of what the next day would bring. I would stand on my own two feet without help from anyone.

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