Page 10 of Total Carnage
I laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. "Keep telling yourself that, old man. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
We stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills, unspoken threats, and simmering rage. But I refused to back down, to give him even an inch.
Let him try to break me, I thought. I've survived worse than him.
Dad's jaw clenched, his mask of civility cracking. He spun on his heel, stalking towards the door. He paused as he gripped the ornate handle, his voice was low and menacing. "You think you're clever, Raven. But remember, in this house, in this life, I hold all the cards. Your little biker fantasy ends here."
The door slammed shut behind him, echoing through the room like a gunshot. I stood there, fists clenched, my heart pounding a rebellious rhythm against my ribs. "Fuck you," I whispered to the empty room, the words tasting like freedom on my tongue.
I paced the length of the room, mind racing. Dad thought he'd won, thought he'd broken me. But he had no idea what I was capable of. I'd escaped once before, and I'd do it again.
My gaze landed on the window, thoughts of the open road and the rumble of a bike between my legs flooding my senses. I couldalmost smell the leather and fresh air and feel the wind whipping through my hair, my arms around Vin’s waist.
I sank onto the edge of the bed, my determination hardening into something unbreakable. Dad might have the money, the power, the connections. But I had something he'd never understand—the fierce loyalty of my chosen family and the unquenchable fire of a woman who refused to be caged. Let him think he'd won. I'd show him just how wrong he was. And when I rode away from this hellhole for the last time, I'd make damn sure he knew exactly who he was dealing with.
The game was far from over. It was just beginning.
Raven
Darkness enveloped me like a suffocating cloak, heavy and unyielding. I settled at the edge of my bed, my fingers wrapped tightly around the pen as if it were a lifeline. The blank page before me seemed to taunt me, its emptiness echoing the turmoil inside. "Fuck," I whispered, my voice rough from disuse. How do you write a letter to a dead man?
I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. Vin's face flashed in my mind—his considering eyes that always saw right through my bullshit, the slight curl of his lip when he was amused. The ache in my chest threatened to swallow me whole. My hand moved of its own accord, scratching out words I'd kept locked inside for too long:
Vin,
You stupid, reckless bastard. How dare you leave me like this? I keep expecting to hear the rumble of your bike, to feelyour arms around me. But there's nothing. Just this goddamn silence.
I paused, wiping furiously at the tears that had started to fall. So much for being the ice queen. If my father could see me now, crying over some outlaw biker...
But Vin wasn't just some biker. He was everything.
I never told you this, I continued writing, but that first night we met, when you looked at me like I was the only person in that crowded bar? That's when I knew I was fucked. All those years of carefully constructed walls, and you tore through them like they were nothing.
My hand was shaking, making my usually elegant script look like chicken scratch. I didn't care. This wasn't about appearances. This was about letting go of the suffocating weight of unsaid words.
You showed me what it meant to really live, Vin. To grab life by the throat and squeeze every last drop out of it. I thought I knew freedom before, but I was just playing at it. You taught me what it truly means to be free.
I let out a bitter laugh, remembering all the times I'd railed against my privileged upbringing. How naïve I'd been.
I wish... Christ, I wish I could hear your voice one more time. Tell me it's all going to be okay. But that's not how our world works, is it? We both knew the risks.
The words were flowing faster now, spilling out like blood from a wound:
I love you, you asshole. I'll always love you. And I promise, I'll keep living hard and free. It's the only way I know how to honor your memory.
I stared at the letter, my chest heaving. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. But it was all I had. The pen trembled in my grip as memories flooded back, vivid and raw. Vin's calloused hands on my skin, rough yet gentle. The intoxicatingscent of his leather kutte and fresh air from riding that clung to him. His low growl in my ear as we tore down empty highways, the wind whipping around us.
"Fuck," I muttered, tears blurring my vision. I could almost feel the rumble of his bike beneath me, the solid warmth of his body pressed against mine. We'd been unstoppable together, two outlaws carving our own path through a world that never understood us. My breath hitched as I remembered our last night together. The way he'd looked at me, those intense eyes burning with a fire that made me feel invincible. "You're my live hard die free, Raven," he'd said, his voice rough with emotion. "No matter what happens."
The memory twisted something inside me, grief morphing into a white-hot rage. My pen scratched furiously across the paper, leaving dark, angry strokes.
You promised me forever, you bastard," I snarled, the words spilling out unchecked. And now you're gone, and I'm left with this... this fucking secret eating me alive.
My hand was shaking so bad I could barely write, but I couldn't stop. The truth I'd buried for years clawed its way to the surface, demanding to be heard.
I killed for you, Vin. I killed, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat.
The memory hit me like a freight train. That trashy blonde at the Rusty Spoke, all fake tits and desperation, eyeing him like he was her next meal ticket. I saw red the second her manicured claws landed on his arm.
