Page 31 of Waiting Game

Antoni was talking to Angel, and Dimitri was talking shit to the Biker. There was so much built up inside of me that I just needed to get out. When the guy looked over at me with a smirk on his face, I couldn’t control it.

Something inside of me snapped.

I strode over to him and punched him in the mouth, over and over again until I felt hands on me. Antoni pulled me away, and pushed me back out the door, slamming it behind him.

“What the fuck, man? What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” I snapped, shaking out of his hold.

“Go home, Ren,” he ordered, gesturing with his chin towards my car.

“This is my job isn’t it? I’m just doing what we’re supposed to do,” I said, raising my voice at him for the first time I can really remember.

“Look mate,” he sighed, “there’s no point in just beating the guy to a pulp. I need him to be able to speak, and you losing control like that makes us all look weak. You know that. I think I have an idea of what’s going on with you, but I’m not even going to go there right now. If you can keep your cool, you can stay. If not, come back later. I need you here. But I need you here with your head straight, alright?”

“Whatever, man,” I mumbled, running my hands through my hair as I headed back to my car.

“Meet me at the gym later, alright?” Antoni yelled as I hopped into the driver’s seat.

I nodded, and shifted the car in reverse, ripping out of the dirt driveway.

I stretched out my hand, my knuckles bloody from the Redliner’s face. Antoni was right, I shouldn’t have lost my cool like that. It would’ve been obvious to the Bikie that I was not in control, that I was emotional - that I was weak.

I had spent so much time trying to convince Valerie, and myself, that I wasn’t a bad guy.

Maybe I was wrong.

9

Chapter 9

Valerie

Itook a deep breath and struggled to swallow my pride.

I had found the earliest flights back to Perth, but they were a little out of my budget. My return flight was still days away, the tickets were already booked and despite my best efforts, the airline would not let me change them without extra charges. I don’t know why I had booked them so far apart in the first place.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, a small hope that I would be welcomed back happily by my family and that they would beg me to stay longer after the wedding so they could spend time with me.

But I didn’t want to be here anymore.

I stood outside Antoni’s house, rehearsing the spiel in my head.

It was embarrassing, having to come to my brother for money, but I was desperate.

After not even forty-eight hours in the city, I had betrayed every promise that I made to myself before I got on that plane.

I caught either polite smiles or disgusted side-glances from Antoni’s men as I walked up the long driveway to his house. I knocked on the door, and a man I didn’t recognise opened it.

“Uh,” I looked around the house, “is Antoni here?”

The man looked me up and down, and only shook his head as a reply.

It was obvious that he didn’t know who I was. Must have been a new guy.

I swallowed hard and sighed, “I’m Valerie Santino.”

“Oh,” his eyebrows shot up, “I’m so sorry, please come in,” he stood aside.

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