Page 48 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part 2

“Outside? Really?” My excitement grew immensely at the thought of going outside with Mommy, but a trickle of fear wormed its way into my belly. I wasn’t allowed to go outside. This must have meant Daddy wasn’t home. “Dad—?”

“He’s not here,” she blurted. “Now let’s go.”

“Mommy, a bicycle? No way!”I ran to it, needing to touch the red, shiny metal to make sure it was real. The bike she bought me wasn’t close to being new and had rust in some spots, but I’d never had a bike before, so it was perfect. I was still exhausted from waking up so early, but I wanted to learn to ride it. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I squealed.

”Keep your voice down, baby. Don’t get too carried away.” I threw my leg over the bike, having watched people on t.v. do the same thing. Mommy placed one hand on the handlebar, the other on my shoulder as she walked with me. “Now, put your feet on the pedals and push forward to go and backward to stop.”

I rode my bike for a while that morning. It only took me a couple of minutes and a few falls to get the hang of it, then I spent a while riding around in the grass in our backyard. Real kid things. Big kid things.

Mommy bought me a bike, and I was learning how to ride it. I prided myself on how easily I took to it. Mommy laughed and ran along with me, trying to keep up, but she couldn’t because I was just so fast.

Then the gate to the front clanked shut. I stomped the brakes immediately, fear coursing through me. I jumped off the bike, running toward the house like I knew I was supposed to do to make it to the kitchen table in time, where my empty breakfast plate was resting. It’s what we always did if he came home early.

I had a sick feeling we weren’t making it out of this one, though. Mommy was too far away to hide the bike.

Daddy’s long legs always carried him everywhere way too fast whenever he left the house. Whenever he wasn’t drunk.

“What the fuck is this?” I froze mid-step, everything draining from me. Oh no. Not good. Tears formed in my eyes and I had to blink them back. Crying gets me nowhere. “What the fuck is this?” Daddy roared, picking up my bike and slamming it down like it weighed nothing.

I glanced over at Mommy. Tears streaked down her face as he made his way over to her and she froze, shaking. As always, he never put his hands on her when I was looking, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t hear it later.

We knew better than this. He had only caught us outside playing a couple times and each time, Daddy got madder and madder. He’d been really mean lately. We should’ve known better.

I should’ve told her I didn’t want to come outside.

“Baby, go in the house,” Mommy said. I started to walk that way, hating the fact that I got Mommy in trouble again.

“Oh, no you don’t.” He pointed at me. “You want to ride a bike, then get on the fucking bike.” He turned his hateful stare back on Mommy. “You get your ass in the house.” She gave a quick nod of her head, her eyes darting my way. I couldn’t stop my tears this time as I watched Mommy’s body shake with her fear.

I didn’t get a beating that day, but I wished for death and listened to my Mommy’s screams.

I rode the bike for three days straight, only stopping to use the bathroom or when I fell asleep. Starved, left out in the freezing cold, covered in filth, riding that damn bike until I passed out from pure exhaustion. I woke up to frostbitten fingers, blisters on my hands, scrapes on my knees from falling off mid-ride.

Torture.

Three days my parents left me outside by myself, fearing retribution if I stopped riding.

I gasp as I wake up, fighting back the tears for the tiny version of myself who only wanted to survive or to one day feel the kindness of another person. A touch that wasn’t violent in nature, or a kiss that didn’t promise new bruises or agonizing pain.

The version of me that just wanted to be loved.

Outlaw is laying in my arms, her head on my chest. She stirs from my sudden movement. I squeeze her tighter, trying to ground myself back to the now and to take breaths that aren’t shuddering.

It was just a dream. A haunting memory, but just a dream now.

Outlaw places her hand on the middle of my chest, and I absorb the feeling, letting it calm me. Today was such a shitty day. It’s no surprise I would have a nightmare while trying to sleep it off.

“You’re okay. I’m here,” she says groggily. I close my eyes, trying my best to let that reassurance resonate.She’s here. Right here. My Outlaw.“Want to talk about it?”

I focus on her kisses; her touch. The person in my life that I know for a fact will never get violent with me. It isn’t in her. Her touch will always be gentle, caring, my favorite—unless we are in the bedroom. She likes to get a little crazy between the sheets and I can’t say I’ll ever complain.

I lift my head to press a kiss to her lips as she peers down at me, looking like an angel. Lines from my wrinkled shirt are pressed into her face, her hair messy and tangled from sleep. “Not right now.”

Face shadowed from the moon playing in the window, she frowns in somber understanding but doesn’t push her cause for once.

“Go back to sleep, Outlaw.”

The next time I wake,the glaring sun is a reminder of the start of another day that I’m not sure I want to face. Until the raven-haired girl laying naked and sort of next to me with her legs tangled in mine and her torso perpendicular to me shifts. All too kissable and fuckable. My hands trail beneath the sheets in search of her, my cock already hard and aching. Detangling myself from her, I decide to start today off right, buried in her pussy.

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