Page 6 of Reaper
“Yuri, make sure the doctor gives her a shot. If she gets pregnant, she’s worthless to him and me.”
Yuri nods, then looks at me. For a moment, pity fills the older man’s eyes before it disappears. Without saying anything, he takes something from his blazer’s pocket. He quickly grabs me as I struggle against his hold. I feel a pinch and my hand reaches for my neck as the room blurs.
“What the hell…. You drugged me…”
An overwhelming exhaustion settles over me. Every muscle in my body screams in protest as I attempt to remain standing. Before I collapse to the floor, the man scoops me into his arms like a bridal embrace.
“Don’t fight it,” he whispers, his breath warm against my ear. Though his voice holds no malice, a deep sense of pity resonates in each word. “Rest because tomorrow things are going to get much worse for you.”
My mouth is moving, or at least I think it is, but no words are coming out. Even if they are, I don’t expect him to respond. However, I do want to know what he means when he says it’s going to get worse for me. But I’m so tired. Not tired in a good way, either. Tired like if I close my eyes, I’m not going to open them again.
Yet it’s no use. I listen to what he says and even though I know I should try to keep fighting, I don’t. However, I do send up a quick prayer to whoever’s listening that when I wake up, his words aren’t true. That this is all some fucked up nightmare I’ve created in my own mind and it’s not going to get any worse.
Reaper
ThePresent…
Most of the time, the sound of my gloves pounding against the leather bag inside of the club’s gym soothes the unrest in my soul. Not only the sound, but the action, the movement of my hands and feet usually lures me into a sense of calm. A form of peace, even when I don’t truly have it. However, today that calm is shattered by my youngest brother, Gavin, or Saint, as the Sinners call him. He’s not shutting his damn mouth. Going on and on like a little bitch.
“Are you trying to get yourself fucking killed!”
I shrug, returning my attention to the heavy bag swaying in front of me.
“Maybe I am. What fucking business is it of yours?”
I’ve been at the gym for hours trying to blow off steam. You know that saying, idle hands are the Devil’s playground? I live by that. So, I keep busy because if I don’t, then nobody’s safe.
It’s been six months since I last let loose. Even though killing Aleksi had been for a good reason, I don’t just go around killing people anymore unless it’s warranted. I try to spend as muchtime as I can in the gym or at the underground fights to quiet the noise inside my head.
Both my legs and arms are like jelly and sting from hours of exertion. I’m drenched in sweat from head to toe, but I want to keep going. I have to keep pushing through the pain, keep pushing through the fatigue assaulting my tired limbs because other than killing someone, it’s the only way I can feel anything
Saint’s been going at it for the last forty minutes about the way I choose to handle my mental state, which isn’t helping said mental state. Nobody understands the man I am today. No one knows what I went through that made me this way. No one’s asked and I haven’t offered any explanations. So, to answer Saint’s question. Do I care if I live or die?
At this point in my life, the answer is no. I don’t. I stopped caring the day she took her last breath. If she’s gone, what’s the point in me living?
Blake’s words always echo in my brain, especially when the topic of death comes up.We are not promised tomorrow, Logan. So, we must live our life like it’s our last. I just want to live before I die. I want to experience life with you until I have no more life left in me.
Remembering her words brings hope and devastation to me on a daily basis. She lived her life until she took her last breath in my arms. She lived life like there wasn’t a tomorrow because her time came sooner rather than later. So now, I don’t think about death or life for that matter. It is what it is. We’re born to die. When we take our first breath of life, we are one second closer to death. That’s what our Ma always says. Anyway, I lost all hope years ago to make a decent life for myself, especially without her. Now I’m just counting down the days until it all ends by my hands or someone else’s.
Saint grabs the burgundy heavy bag, stopping it from swaying. My concentration and momentum are thrown off, but only for amoment, then I get right back into the swing of things, pushing myself faster, harder.
Faster, harder.
With each punch, Saint braces himself against the bag absorbing the blows as the sound echoes through Sin Gym. The Sinners fitness gym owned by Toad, our Sgt. At Arms. At the moment, we’re the only two here although, I rather it was just me.
I don’t slow down or hold back. If he wants to interrupt my time alone with his stupid ass questions, scolding me for the decisions I make in my own life, then he can take whatever I give.
“Are you even fucking listening to me?”
“No.” I throw another combo, and a couple of jabs, making sure I almost knock him on his ass before I stop my punches and glare at my youngest brother. “I’m trying to finish my workout.”
“Fuck your workout.”
I chuckle. He’s so different from the kid I used to know. The boy who wanted to save our father by becoming a priest. The man who would have been better off dead than be in our lives. God gave us our wish a few years ago.
Once upon a time Saint and I were really close. Then when he got sent up for something our father done, naturally we drifted apart. He was serving time, while I was trying to find out what to do with my life.
I unstrap the training gloves on my hands. My workout is shot to hell anyway. There’s no point continuing if he’s not going to leave me the fuck alone. I can’t concentrate.
