Page 74 of Hidden Desires
He had lost everything. His family, his friends, and even the one person he could see himself spending the rest of his life with.
Feeling as empty as his glass, Blade slowly lowered it from his lips and placed it down on the sticky bar before him.
“Another?” the burly bartender asked from the other side of the bar.
Blade nodded.
He had stopped using words almost two hours ago. What was the point? There was no one there who cared to listen.
The bartender appeared before him and filled her up to the rim once again.
That was one of the nice things about dive bars. The booze was cheap, and the bartenders didn’t waste their time trying to measure out the perfect amount of alcohol for each glass.
The perfect amount was full and flowing down his gullet.
Blade lifted his glass and stared at the amber liquid once again. He wasn’t sure how many that was. How many dead soldiers had he swallowed since walking into the bar?
Don’t forget the two beers you had when you checked into the motel across the street.
Fuck that voice.
He hated that voice. It was always trying to ruin his fun by reminding him of the harsh realities of his life.
He was alone and worthless, and not worthy enough for love or happiness.
What was he going to do next?
He could travel further East? Perhaps join a crew out in Jersey or Miami.
Fuck Miami. That state was becoming way too crazy for his liking.
Perhaps West? Maybe California or San Diego?
There were biker gangs and clubs out there. Perhaps one of them might take him in.
That was if Marcus didn’t blacklist him from all the biker gangs and clubs across the West Coast. Joining another gang might be fun. He enjoyed the criminal element and violence that came with gangster life.
A club, on the other hand, was more legitimate. Did he really have what it took to join an organized club that hosted social events and ride-alongs?
No. He enjoyed the criminal life too much to go legitimate. He loved that people feared and respected him whenever he walked into a room. He loved the excitement and thrill of throwing blades at someone’s head when they were shooting back at you for a drug deal gone south.
Yes. That was the biker life that he wanted.
Marcus was probably on the phone with all the other crews in the area, talking shit about him, and telling everyone that hecould not be trusted. He was an asshole and a betrayer, and no crew should take him in.
No. Marcus wasn’t like that. He would never do something so cruel, especially to someone who had once been his friend.
Marcus was pissed at him because he fucked his little brother. Clear and simple.
Yeah, that and the fact that you betrayed his trust by breaking the bro code—Thou shalt not blow a load in thy best friend’s brother’s gay ass.
Or something along those lines.
Blade didn’t blame Marcus for feeling betrayed. He was just looking out for his little bro, and he should have ignored his feelings for Ace.
Blade took another sip.
Next to his hand, his cell phone buzzed on the bar.
