Page 3 of Painless
"Well." Jandro rubbed the five o'clock shadow on his jaw, a side-effect from three straight days of riding. "You can carry on as you are and just not give a fuck. It might hurt you in the long-run, though.Oryou can work to start changing how you come across to people. That would entail letting your guard down around women a bit. Pushing yourself out of your comfort zone, little by little, until you're comfortable with human interaction. Then, you never know. You might meet someone special."
I killed the bottle of Jack while listening to him, too embedded in my alcohol-soaked bubble to really consider his advice.
"I've never cared about, or needed, human interaction," I grumbled out with a shake of my head. "I just don't see the point."
"It probably didn't matter while you were some cunty bitches' endless blood sacrifice, but it does now," he insisted. “You’re a person, dude. We’re social animals. Not only that, you're part of an MC, the MC that brings true justice when the world has given up. I'm sorry, but you're gonna have to interact with people in ways that don't involve killing." He began gesticulating wildly with his hands. "And the longer you go without some kind of...affectionate human contact, the harder it'll be to connect with others."
Before I could retort, Daren stumbled out of the hallway into the dining room. His shirt was unbuttoned, and he was trying to get his pants zipped up as he walked.
"Hey guys, turn the radio on!" he yelled. "Something big is going down in DC. There's a journalist reporting it right now."
A half-dressed blonde woman followed Daren out from the hallway. She jumped on his back, giggling and kissing his neck as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Yeah, women definitely didn't respond to me that way.
"What station,burro?" Jandro was already fiddling with knobs on the radio at our table.
"Don't matter. It's on all the stations."
"That can't be good," Jandro muttered as he settled on a frequency.
A quietness settled over the dining room as static from the speakers filled the air. Even the servers paused in their work to listen.
Only indistinguishable mumbling came through for the first minute, like people were having a conversation just out of range of the microphone. Then a voice charged with emotion addressed everyone listening, which, at this point, was probably the whole country.
"My fellow Americans, this is Emery Jones reporting with Freedom of Speech News," the reporter paused, their voice already cracking. "I've received multiple reports, and gotten eyewitness confirmation that...that..."
A long pause followed. Everyone in the dining room seemed to be holding their breath.
"Washington D.C. has fallen," the reporter finally continued in a harrowed tone. "All nine Supreme Court justices have been assassinated, gunned down right in...in the building. The Senate has been barricaded, with at least forty senators inside. They've set fire to the building and rescue teams are being blocked from getting in. A mob has...has stormed the White House and is vandalizing the building as we speak. We don't know if all these incidents were coordinated attacks. There's still been no word on the president, since he fled the country two weeks ago..."
The journalist continued reporting on the carnage all around them in a flat, emotionless voice, clearly in shock. Some of the servers began to cry. The rest of us just listened, in various stages of shock ourselves.
No one, however, looked surprised. I didn't care for politics, having been isolated most of my life, and even I knew this tension had been brewing for years.
"I don't know how we'll come back from this," the reporter went on, now sounding like they were trying not to cry. "The United States as we know it has… collapsed."
One
MARIPOSA
PRESENT DAY
“Your rodent is trying to kill me again.”
“Freyja is not a rodent,Rory!” I scooped up the kitten who, in that moment, had just started vigorously grooming Reaper’s stubble with her tongue. “She’ll be hunting rodents soon, won’t you, little girl?”
My black kitten squeaked out a meow followed by an enthusiastic purr. I laughed at my…companion? Familiar? There was no word to describe my bond with this animal.
“She’s a rodent compared to Hades,” Reaper chuckled, folding his hands behind his head. “And I don’t understand why she curls up over my mouth and nose, if not to suffocate me.”
“Probably because your breath is warm.” I placed Freyja on the mattress and tickled her belly, earning needle-like teeth in my finger for my endeavors. “Or she likes how you smell, as much as I do.”
Hades jumped up right then, placing his paws carefully on either side of the kitten as he bent down to sniff her. I realized Freyja’s head wasn’t much bigger than his nose as she batted at him with her tiny paws.
“You’re goin’ soft on me, Hades,” Reaper groaned as the Doberman licked and nuzzled the kitten amidst her fierce assault on his nose.
Freyja zoomed across the mattress and down to the floor. Hades chased her while still taking care where he placed his paws and teeth. With them no longer smothering either of us, I scooted closer to lay my head on Reaper’s chest. His arm slid around my back as he brushed a kiss across my forehead.
“Has she said anything to you yet?” he murmured, lips moving on my forehead.
