Page 12 of Reaper's Rival

Abby

You have to lose yourself to really find yourself.

You have to crawl through the dark times to understand and crave the light.

And sometimes you need to lose the man you love to realize what you had in the first place was love.

The ashtray was filled with cigarette butts, and my mind was consumed with regret. I can’t believe I shot him. I stood there and shot him! The man I care about and wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I shot him. Me.

I blew a mouthful of smoke out and reached for the bottle of liquor.

I was like fucking Alice in fucking wonderland. I had gone down the rabbit hole. Only my hole was filled with bullets, drug money, tattoos, and fucking bad mistakes.

I had fucked up, and now, now I was paying for it.

My hand was shaking as I poured myself another drink.

I can’t believe I shot him.

It was like it had broken me like I couldn’t pull my mind away from it.

Damon had understood about the money; that didn’t mean he was happy about it. He just understood it.

Now I stood for everything they hated. I was part of something they could never fully understand or accept. I wore the ink of a gang they loathed. All for what? To prove a point that I could get my own ass in trouble without their help?

I put out the cigarette and went to sit on the edge of the bed. I pulled my boots back on, reached for keys and phone.

I had to see him.

I had to explain myself.

Though I still wasn’t sure how I could explain shooting him.

Was it out of rage? Jealousy? I don’t know. It was like I was numb and just filled with this undying attitude that had to prove something.

I closed the front door and walked out into the night air. Breathing in the coldness of the night, I knew there was a very limited chance of me getting into the clubhouse. I was going to have to get him to come out.

I unlocked the car and closed the door.

So it was official – I was heading back to Snake’s Valley Victoria in the middle of the night.

At least it was only an hour away.

***

I leaned with one foot up against the car, dialing his number.

“Hello?” His voice was clipped. I could hear the rage in it.

“It’s Abby.”

The end of the phone was swallowed with silence.

“Look, I know that you most likely don’t want to talk to me right now.” I ran my free hand through my hair. I took a sharp breath in. God, it was cold out here. “But I kind of drove over here to see you.”

Silence.

“Can you say something?” I kicked the tire. “Anything?”

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