Page 3 of Cut Me Down

“I’m always so glad when I’m invited to these things. Since my work for you is remote, I never see everyone.” She rests her elbows on the railing and leans back against it.

“Well, there’s going to be plenty more of these in the next year. Seems like everyone is having fucking babies.”

“Aw, do you feel left out?” She coos, pursing her lips and shaking her head slightly in a playfully manner.

“Kind of.” I grin and give her a wink.

“Well, go out and find someone to settle down with, Damien. Any woman would be lucky to have you.” She says in a confident tone.

“That doesn’t really seem to be in my cards, Mel. Plus, you know how I feel about the notion of love. Love is bullshit.” I try to focus my attention onto the tree line, trying to show my distaste of the conversation.

“Why? All of your people have girlfriends, wives, kids. Why can’t you? And please, you know love is real, you're just afraid of it.”

“Afraid?” I scoff and burst out laughing, the laughter echoing into the forest trees that line my property. “I'm not sure I’d put it like that, but okay, and yeah they might have it, but they don’t run the organization.”

“No, they don’t, but Carter helps you a lot.”

“Yeah, and hejust nowgot a girlfriend.”

“Well, that’s because Carter is more comfortable talking to people through a screen, and yes, you are afraid. You're afraid you're going to love someone and they’re going to let you down.”

“Of course they will. You see what I do. What I have done. No one could love a monster like me.”

She crosses her arms again and huffs.

“So, you built this big ass house last year with no plans on having a wife or kids? You really don’t think someone is going to accept you or truly love you?” I look down at my hands, because I could lie to her all night long, and she’ll see right through me. She helped me find the plans for this house after all. Which, designing the house meant conversations about the use of the rooms. I couldn’t just say ‘bedroom’ apparently, so now Mel knows all of my bullshit plans for my future. Well, past plans I should say. “I mean come on, D. You have like eight unused rooms. If this was just a huge bachelor pad, you’d at least have a use for them. You know pool tables, dart boards, fucking corn-hole in the back yard, but you don’t. You made five of the rooms guest rooms, and the others you keep empty.”

“I got to have somewhere for my million cousins to stay.”

She giggles and rolls her eyes. I do have a lot of fucking cousins. Twenty-five of them actually.

“Does my life look like it’s good for kids? A wife? You think a woman is going to deal with the shit I do? Or the fact that I fucking love what I do?” I stare back at her to watch her gaze soften.

“Everyone else’s does.”

“Yeah, because they were either together or married before they started working for me, and we both know that they don’t take it to the extremes or enjoy it the way I do. Except for Zeke and Taylor, but he keeps her so far away from this shit, and I don’t blame him.” Her face molds to pudding, drooping slightly to the realization. “You know I want that life, but I also want this one. Where I help people, on my terms, in my way, with my men who feel the same way. I would need someone to understand that this is my family too. You know another group of people that comes together like this every time one of their own has a baby? I’ve never heard of that shit before.”

“There’s no one else like you, Damien. You are so special, and I know there is someone out there who will be just as special for you. Someone who cares as much as you do can’t be alone. The world can’t be that fucked up.” She lifts her arms and then drops them to her side in defiance.

“You haven’t seen what I have.” She shakes her head at me.

“There’s someone out there who was made for you. I know it, and instead of keeping your head down in your work, maybe you should go out there and find them.” Now she’s bobbing her head, and her slight country accent is poking through. We’ve officially slipped into the agitated stage of her newfound hormones.

“Aw, are your hormones making you all mushy inside.” I coo before she slaps my arm.

“Fine, asshole. Download Tinder or something, at least then you can have a conversation before you walk out into public without your band of vigilantes.”

“A woman who was made me for me wouldn’t be caught fucking dead on Tinder.” I narrow my eyes as I look at her.

“Hey, fuck you, I met my husband on Tinder.” We laugh, but me more nervously this time, and I might actually sweat at the grave I'm digging myself into. She’s definitely going to hit me again.

“I forgot, my bad.” I say apologetically.

“I get it Damien. Someone as possessive and protective as you are couldn’t take someone who doesn’t believe in monogamy. But seriously, start looking for something meaningful if that’s what you really want. Please? I hate that you’re alone.” That new saddened tone was not what I was expecting.

“I’m not alone. Take a look at my fucking house right now.” I gesture towards it with my hand.

“You know what I mean, D. You are not a man that just wants sex. You don’t even bring the girls you fuck back to the house, and we both know that’s because this is a home for your future family. You don’t want to bring temporary people here. So, find a permanent one.”

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