Page 82 of Sinful Skulls
His understanding makes me relax. “I hope you didn’t put off your plans for today just to babysit me.”
“The only plans I ever have is taking care of my family. I wake up each day and go wherever I’m needed. Today that was here with you.”
My gaze roams over his ink again. “Are people scared of you?”
He chuckles. “Are you?”
“No,” I giggle, covering my mouth with my hand. “I’ll admit Brody did throw me off for a few minutes when I met him on the beach. I was a little unsure of him.”
Dirk leans back in his chair, studying me for a long minute. “The general public gives me a wide berth, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Why are we like that?” I ask, not really expecting an answer.
“We’re taught to label shit from the time we’re born, and it all boils down to two things … good or bad. People see my tattoos and automatically label me bad.”
“What do you see when you look at me? Am I good or bad?”
The lines around his eyes soften, and he shakes his head. “Man, I haven’t gotten a question like that in a long time.”
I seem to lose him to his thoughts, so I continue to nurse my drink.
“What do you see when you look in the mirror?” he asks in return, startling me.
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“Sure you do.”
He sighs when I don’t answer. “Try this. Throw the fucking labels away. Accept that there is bad and good in all of us. When you come to that realization, life becomes a lot easier.”
Will it, though?
“Is this because of that little tiff you got into with that whore the other night?”
My eyes widen at the harsh name he just called her.
He laughs. “You were protecting what was yours. That doesn’t make you bad. You knew you had to come out swinging, or those little bitches would make your life a living hell. Job well done, I say.” Again, he clinks his glass to mine.
By the end of the third drink, I’m feeling much better.
“You know, I wouldn’t have really hurt her. I mean, yes, I would have if she would have kissed him or something. Like maybe a little shove to the ground or a kick to the ribs.” I giggle.
He chuckles too. “My wife likes to light shit on fire.”
“I noticed a lot of her darker paintings have fire in them.”
“Fire or rainbows. I’m telling you, every fucking one of us has two sides. Some people just don’t entertain them both, but they’re there.”
I think about his statement. It’s true. The parents who raised me lived entirely in the light. My biological dad’s family seemed to have lived entirely in the dark. I try to lean into the light, but the darkness always whispers to me.
“The key is to straddle that fucking bitch,” Dirk says, seemingly reading my mind. “Sometimes you hit a lot of traffic and have to cross into the other lane to pass, sometimes you get a dead road and can ride that center line on cruise control. You just have to remember you always have the fucking handlebars.”
My head falls. “I like the bike analogy, but what if you drive right into the ditch?”
He chuckles. “That’s why it’s important to have at least one person to ride with. They’ll give you a heads up when you start to veer off the road.”
I sigh, closing my eyes. “Something happened to me in Paris, and I want to tell Brody, but I don’t know how. I thought I could forget about it, but …”
The front door opens, and Brody walks in. He smiles when he spots me. I glance at Dirk, begging him to keep our conversation to himself.
