Page 19 of Love is Blind

I follow the sound of his voice and smile.

“Perfect attire for a slumber party, no?”

“Birdie,” Ghost growls.

“What?” There’s nothing wrong with being social.

The man laughs.

“Birdie, is it? I’m Ink, and this here is, Hawk. Next to him is Capone, and that bald bastard is Shady. Oh, and the old geezer sleeping at the end of the bar is Leftie.”

Such odd names.

“Fuck you, boy,” the man I assume to be the old geezer replies. “I’m not sleeping and I ain’t too old to kick your ass.”

“There are fossils younger than you, Leftie,” Ink volleys.

Ghost clears his throat and starts, “She’s—”

Knowing he’s about to tell them I’m blind, I cut him off. People act weird when they find out about my disability. They get quiet or sometimes they apologize—it’s like when someone dies and you say, I’m sorry. What exactly are you sorry for? You didn’t kill the person and you didn’t make me blind. That’s why I like to have a little fun with it.

Smiling, I wave at the group.

“It’s nice to meet y’all.”

“Oh, darlin’, trust me when I say, the pleasure is all ours,” Leftie says.

“Can we get you something to drink?” Another voice calls and I decide that’s my cue to spice things up for the friendly bikers. But Ghost doesn’t seem to get the memo and grinds out, “No,” the same time I say, “I’d love some of that weed.”

You only live once, and I bet not much shocks this group.

I pull my hand away from Ghost’s and reach into my pocket, retrieving my cane.

“What are you doing?” Ghost whispers, grabbing my elbow.

Flashing him a smile, I listen as my cane clicks into place. Then I tap it against the floor and reply, “Making nice with your biker buddies.”

He steps closer and lowers his head so that his breath touches my ear.

“I told you, you didn’t need the cane with me,” he hisses and snatches the cane from my hand.

“Jeez, no need to get so bent out of shape,” I argue.

“I got weed in my room if you want to smoke.” I actually have no desire to smoke, but since he’s being such a jerk, I press the issue.

“They can hear you and you’re being rude, not to mention anti-social.”

“I agree,” Ink says. “Very anti-social.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“See?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Ghost mutters. The next thing I know, I’m hanging over his shoulder.

“Ghost!” I admonish, lifting my head. Not sure if I’m even facing Ink and the rest of the biker posse, I wave. “It was nice to meet y’all. Have a few tokes for me!”

Ghost slaps my ass and the room breaks into laughter. With every step he takes, the sounds fade and before I know it, we’re in his room. He kicks the door closed, setting me down on my feet.

---