Page 3 of Bound by Desire
As we walk, I strip the tape from my hands and toss it to the dirt. My knuckles are red, but they aren’t torn to hell and willbefine.
Ray and I move to my black Ford F350 and get in. I stash the cash in the center console where my handgun lays. Never know who’slurking.
While I know how to deal with my hands, sometimes that just isn’t enough. And I’ve made enough people bleed over the past four years that someone is bound to be out for revenge at some point. I don’t take chances because it’s the pussies who try to jump you outside the cage, thinking they can get one uponyou.
No one will get one up on me. Life lessons learned the hard fucking way: keep yourself on top, in charge, and never be reckless, but ratherruthless.
“You gettin’ tired of it?” Ray asks. I know he’s just trying to be a good guy, but I’m not a good man, so there’s no need for himtotry.
I grip the wheel and pull out into the darknight. “No.”
At this point, the rush has become my drug ofchoice.
At this point, the battle has become my drug ofchoice.
At this point, the power play has become my drug ofchoice.
Fuck the heroin I got hooked on as a kid. The high of knocking someone out is the best kind. The roar of the crowd and the money on top, it adds to the elation, the soar, the power. All of it is an addicting concoction. It only lasts a few minutes, but it’s just enough to sate me. It’s also enough to keep the demons at bay. That’s the only reason Ineedit.
“Then, whatisit?”
“Shit onmymind.”
“Care to tell me?” Ray asks, sounding a bitexasperated.
“No.” It’s harsh, but my shit is my shit. I don’t go around spreading it to others. The more people who don’t know my business, thebetter.
Even though I’ve known Ray since I came to Grayson, he knows nothing of my past, unless it’s hearsay from others. People talk. I’m far from a stupid man, and my last name connects all the dots. The mistakes in my life have taught me well, and there have been plenty of those. I don’t make the same mistakestwice.
“Fuck, man, how am I supposed to help if you don’t tell me what’s goin’ on?” he asks as I drive through the dark night and stop at hisplace.
“Out,” Iorder.
He shakes his head. “You need me, I’m here.” With that, he opens the door andexits.
I watch until he’s in the door before taking off. Ray is a little dude, and no doubt he hangs out with me for protection. It’s a mutual thing. He uses me for that, and I use him as my guy outside the cage. Itworks.
He has my back as best he can, and Ihavehis.
My mind rolls as I make my way home. Pulling into my drive, I turn off the truck and get out. The shower is callingmyname.
My place isn’t the best, but it’s better than sleeping on the streets, which I did for six months before finding thisplace.
Taking out my gun and slipping a duffle bag behind my seat, I make my way through thedarkness.
I walk up the stairs to the second level of an old garage my landlord keeps his classic car in. Opening the door, I let out a sigh and lock it. The place is one open room with a small bathroom off to the side. The small kitchenette is all I need, and my bed is my couch. It works, and it’s cheap. Not that I’m hurting for money. No, I just savethatshit.
When I first left, I would long for the ease of crawling into my childhood bed without a care in the fucking world. Street life is the school of hard knocks. I learned my lessons well. Stuff is just stuff, and it’s all just a shit reminder of what you lose when you bail. I know the loss deep in the pit of my stomach. I won’t be in that situation again,either.
Control.
My surroundings are my making—bare fucking minimum. Nothing to find comfort in, nothing to misslater.
An uneasy feeling has come over me the last couple of days, and I can’t figure out what the fuck it is. My life is established. I have a damn good job, and fighting is my release. There should be nothing that would cause this unusual creep inside of me. I don’t fucking like itonebit.
I head to the bathroom, strip, and wash the shit from the night off me. With my head under the spray, the water cascades down my face, pushing my hair into my eyes. The warmth doesn’t help much to clearmyhead.
I don’t like feeling unsettled. Having worked damn hard to stay in control, this feeling is foreign to me. I need to figure out what this is and deal with it.Andsoon.
