Page 50 of Three Beasts

Chapter 30

Zeva

Nighttime has descended and I see the black sky outside of the little window of my motel room. There is no moon and even the stars seem not to shine tonight, during this time of … battle, pain, and conflict.

I know this feeling. I’ve felt it before. I was terrified to lose my dad on a similarly black night and guess what? I did. He just...died. And all for the sake of some stupid biker territory war. Yeah, I get that it’s like family to them, but when lives are at stake why can they not just opt out?

I'm in the motel shower just letting the day drip from my body. I’m imagining all the fear and anger and pain swirling down the drain and out of my life. I try to visualize the negativity washing right off of me but there’s no way to escape the internal angst that I feel. This is real and it’s happening. There’s a war out there and I’m in here helpless. I could’ve helped. I could’ve at least benefited by being near the action and not holed up here alone.

My thoughts turn dark.

This has been a truly harrowing experience and I see now what the guys and the MC are up against. This isn’t a joke joke. Now that I've witnessed bullets flying past my head, and nearly being raped, I consider Wade's position as leader of the club in a new light.

They want me safe, and they wanted to avoid war, but now it’s happening. I didn't think The Iron Legion even knew who I was, but when I left to see Tammi they were watching me. I could've died. Suddenly Wade, Jason, and Alex’s anger at me makes sense. I have to seek their forgiveness. I never should've left the compound that day. I may have put lives at risk. I hope I haven't broken things beyond repair.

The water slides down my body, washing away all the pain and hurt. I've been in here for what feels like an hour and the water's turning cold. I shut it off and towel-dry my hair. I wipe the steam from the bathroom mirror and stare at my reflection. I wonder again at how this all has happened to me. I have three guys, three beasts of men, loving me. It’s not just lust, though that is there for sure. We have something deeper, all of us. I care about them in unique ways. I've probably loved them from afar this whole time but I never dreamed the feelings were reciprocated. Now that I know that they are, that it’s real between us, it's like for a second I'm living in a dream, where all my fantasies come true.

And yet right at the crest of my life, when everything is coming together so perfectly I am also faced with losing it all. Ironic, isn’t it? Just as things are getting good I have the potentiality of being left with nothing. Maybe this is the story of my life. Maybe I am destined to fail, to be alone, and to never have love. At least being in the biker world seems to produce these results. They all die young. Why am I surprised? I begged the guys to refrain, to make it legit and just no one could hear me. And now, I am staring at my reflection in a crappy motel mirror thinking of the possible bloodbath that’s about to go down. It’s so depressing really. But more than that I feel fear. Just cold fear about what will happen. What if one of them dies? I am attached to all three men and the prospect of losing all or even one of them would crush me forever and I won’t be the same.

I blink to hold back the tears. I finish drying my hair with the towel and then I curl up in bed. The scratchy sheets hurt my naked skin but I barely notice. Why did they leave me? I belong by their side.

This time I won’t run. I won’t even move until I hear word of something. I just don’t see why they thought I should be alone. Here I am, left to my own devices, thoughts of torment and loss.

Darkness.

None of it is okay. I would do anything to escape this war unfettered. I'm so afraid.

I lay my head down and hold my cell phone, begging it to ring and to deliver me news. I need to know either way what’s happened. Is my life over or is it still just beginning? The silence is deafening but I wait, and I wait, and I wait.

This shoddy motel room is overcast though by thoughts of blood, and war, and fighting. How can I not sit here and reflect on the same kind of night when my dad went away and did not come home. He was lost in the fire of a thousand bullets, and it all seemed…just not worth it. What did he die for? Some ill-placed sense of duty?

I know about loyalty and I know about the biker life, but on nights like these, when your heart is full of worry, it's hard to remember why I stayed in it.

It did it because it's home, I did it for the guys, but if I lose them tonight…all my loyalty will have been in vain. I'm just not prepared to go through another torturous grief like that. If I lose one of them, I lose myself…and who knows if I'll ever be able to pick up the pieces of my life then.

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