Page 18 of Sinful Lies
Chapter 10
Tank
Idon’t know what’sworse. Sitting alone at the club bar slamming back the drinks to stop thinking about Dia or the fact that thinking about her is why I’m alone right now. I could be balls deep in club pussy. Believe me, I tried, but my dick decides now is a good time to grow a fucking conscience. Instead of fucking Elle, she ended up with my hands around her throat, and the threat to keep her fucking trap shut. The last thing I need is for this to get out. I have a reputation to protect.
I can’t deny I still want Dia. We may have just been kids, but that woman is engrained in my fucking soul, like it or not. Going there last night was a big fucking mistake. The memories I’ve crammed down deep have erupted. All night, I’ve been drinking while memories of the last night I saw her flood my mind. The more I drink, the more I unravel. I can’t sleep it off, cause when I close my eyes, I see the lifeless girl that sent my life into the shitter. Cold, dead eyes staring up at me from the bed. That girl must have been terrified, gasping for her last breath of air. I should have been disgusted by it, but I wasn’t. At least not with the death part. She was no older than me, if even eighteen. I remember thinking she was better off, as I pulled the blanket up over her naked body. I didn’t want my mother to look at her that way, but she’d already seen too much.
Images of my mother huddled in the corner, crying. Her mascara running down her cheeks turning the purple and blue bruises black. That’s the last time I saw my mom, covered in bruises and blood, crying. Not because she was dying, but because she knew my life would never be the same.
Fuck the shot glass. I lift the bottle to my mouth and tip my head back, guzzling enough to erase the image from my mind. I didn’t even hear the footsteps behind me, but I lower the bottle and turn to swing when a hand rests on my shoulder.
“Damn brother, kinda early for that shit.” Chainz bobs to the right before my fist can strike his face.
Early?I’m already five fingers deep into my second bottle of Jack. I didn’t even notice the sun coming up or the members of the club stirring around me.
“Clean yourself up and meet us in Church. It’s time you come clean with everyone.”
I slam back another shot. “I don’t know where to start.”
“From the beginning, man. They need to know what’s on the line here. Trust your club.”
I stumble off the bar stool. “You’re the only ones I can trust.”
“Then it should be easy.”
I stagger away from Chainz, lost in my own thoughts, as I head for the shower. I need to get my head on straight and calm this shit down. I know I need to confide in my club about my past, it’s deeper than just my relationship with Dia. If I’m going to take point on this, I don’t need them questioning if they can trust me to hold it together.
When I reach my room on the second level of the clubhouse, I strip my clothes off and step into a hot shower. The water scalds my skin as it rushes over my shoulders, down my back, chest and arms, burning the tattoos covering every inch of me. Now, more than ever, they’re a reminder of the life I chose, the life I left behind, and every life I’ve ever taken. It’s a constant battle between right and wrong, but I don’t regret any of it.
I don’t kill for sport. Every breath I’ve ever snuffed out deserved what they got for hurting the people I care about. My brothers in this club. They’re my family. Maybe not flesh and blood, but unlike my blood family, they’ve never betrayed me. These guys have always had my back. I need to trust them to have it now.
Stepping out of the shower, I dry off and change into clean clothes. Slipping my cut on as I head downstairs for Church. There’s a jackhammer in my head as my pulse races. I’m nervous as fuck when I step into Church and find everyone already around the table.
“The floor is yours, when you’re ready. It’s time to come clean.” Chainz encourages me.
Alcohol beads out of my pores as I burst into a cold sweat. Chainz, my President and closest friend, is the only one who knows my full story. I’ve never given a damn what anyone thought of me, but right now my emotions are getting the fucking best of me. I nod and take my seat to the right of Chainz at the table.
“You’re among brothers. In this room, all of our secrets are safe. No one judges anyone. If we can’t have each other’s backs no matter what, then we don’t deserve a seat at this table.” Chainz makes eye contact with each one of us, reminding everyone of their place.
I’m dreading this conversation, but it’s time to come clean. I let out a deep breath and rub my aching head. “You know, Dia and I have a past, but what you don’t know is why it’s in the past.”
I can feel their eyes watching me as I unload. “Ten years ago, I became a wanted man. When I met Chainz, I was on the run. Constantly looking over my shoulder wondering when the police would catch up to me and haul my ass off to jail.”
“I know that feeling.” Freedom cracks a joke to lighten the tension I’m bringing to the room. That crazy fucker is always getting himself locked up. I lift my head, my nerves easing slightly. “I was. Hell, I guess I still am, wanted for murder.”
“Who here isn’t?” Everyone lets out a laugh. Reaper has a point. We’ve all killed for our club, and we all have a past. I have nothing to be ashamed of. The way they allow me to ease into my story helps settle my nerves.
“Only this one time, I was innocent. I was too young to defend myself. My accuser was a powerful man, and he took everything from me.”
“We’ll help you get your revenge, but first you have to tell the club who he is and what went down.” Chainz pushes me to come clean.
“If it was that easy, I would have taken my revenge and my girl back years ago.” I let out a heavy breath and tell my story.
“I hated my father for his smugness and superiority. As an attorney to the wealthy, he expected me to walk the straight and narrow, but I lived to disappoint him. I caused trouble to embarrass him, the way everything he stood for embarrassed me. He wasn’t about right and wrong. He didn’t care who got hurt or what crimes he allowed his clients to get away with. He only cared about the money he made off of them. He loved his money more than he loved me. Behind closed doors, he was abusive and cold. My mother hid the truth from everyone until the day she died. I never understood why she kept the truth a secret. My best guess is she was more afraid of him than I realized. Dia got me. She was the only one who understood why I acted out and didn’t judge me for it. She calmed the storm within me. With her I could be myself, no false bravado, no mask to hide behind. She accepted me for who I was and loved all of me, even the broken pieces.
Just before my eighteenth birthday, my acts of rebellion got me arrested for petty larceny. It was the final straw for my father. He couldn’t sweep that one under the rug. There was no way to hide it from everyone. He lost it, but instead of taking it out on me, like he normally did, he turned on my mother. His beating left her with more than bruises. He dislocated her shoulder and fractured her arm. For the first time in their marriage, she stood up to him and we left, but she was never the same. The light that once graced her face faded and the song she carried inside her was never sung again. I worked odd jobs, scrounging enough money together to pay rent on a rundown, one bedroom shit hole that leased by the week. We didn’t have much, but we had a plan to get her back on her feet and a decent place to live. Twelve weeks of recovery, planning and dreaming of a new life. Then one night, out of the blue, she drove away without a word. I knew something wasn’t right.
It turned out what I feared the most was true. She was going back to him. I followed her to the house we lived in with my father. I walked through the back door and the house was silent. I had expected to hear fighting or sounds of them making up. I heard nothing, which creeped me out even more. The hairs on my arms were on end. I knew she was there; both of their cars were in the driveway.
