Page 28 of Blackout-

A promise to love.

A promise to keep us moving through this crazy ride we call life.

Pulling away, he keeps his hands on my face and searches my eyes.

“We good, Lace?”

I know the minute the question leaves his lips, he waits for my mask. However, the smile I give him isn’t forced, it’s not manufactured to disguise my emotions. It’s genuine and full of love. Like I said, I believe in love. I believe with love, you can conquer all.

You can defeat your demons.

You can beat the odds.

You can do anything when you do it with love.

“We’re good,” I assure him, reaching on my tip toes to kiss him once more.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” my father sneers from behind me. “Enough is enough.”

Laughing against my mouth, Blackie pulls away and diverts his attention over my head.

“I’ll be right there.”

Muttering a stream of curses, my father leaves the room and Blackie turns back to me.

“I’ll pick you up after church. We’ll go for a ride.”

I don’t remember the last time we rode for pleasure, with no end in sight.

“I’d like that,” I tell him. He gives me one last peck before he moves for the door. I watch as he pauses and turns back to me. “What?” I question when he just stares at me quietly.

“Your old man is right,” he says thoughtfully. “You’re glowing, girl.”

Before I can process his words, he winks and turns back around, leaving me alone in the kitchen with a smile on my face.

With love anything is possible.

Chapter Eleven

Blackie

Stepping into the garage,my gaze sweeps over the six restaurant tables that have been pushed together and the meat mallet that sits at the end of the last one. After Jack got the ink blacked out on his shoulder, he smashed Cain’s beloved table into pieces. Deuce gave me the heads up on the matter and I called Riggs. He recently made a deal with a restaurant supplier in Queens and informed me he had a couple of tables on hand. Without asking him too many questions, like why the fuck he was making deals with restaurant suppliers, I hung up with him and ordered Deuce and Stryker to grab them from his basement.

“What’s all this?” Bas questions beside me.

“We needed to replace Cain’s table,” I tell him, pulling out my chair.

“And this is the best you could do?”

Flipping it around, I sink into it and lift my narrowed eyes to him, watching as he waves a hand and gestures to the tables.

“If you can do better than, by all means, grab your hammer,” I dare. “Riggs went to a lot of trouble to grab these for us.”

“If you call knocking off a restaurant supply warehouse in Flushing a lot of trouble,” Pipe interjects, taking his seat across from mine. Meeting my gaze, his face remains expressionless. He didn’t so much as say three words to me at Jack’s house, making it clear he was still fucking pissed at me.

“Anything is better than the cursed piece of shit that was here before,” Stryker volleys

I think it’s safe to say we all agree with him. That fucking thing brought nothing but doom to our lives. If Jack didn’t break the thing, we’d still be gathered around it and it would serve as a reminder of Cain’s indiscretions. It wouldn’t be long before Jack lost his shit with or without his meds.

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