Page 5 of Enemy
I hate myself for telling him I’d let him do me. Shame washes over me every time I think about it. I said it out loud. Not only to just some guy, but my enemy. He’s been that from the day I met him.
I was seventeen, drunk as fuck on the night I got patched in as prospect, and still inexperienced. To celebrate, our club went to get wasted at the Fleece, a bar the Vultures were known to hang out at. When I went to piss, I might have glanced at his dick a bit too long before I even noticed the patches he was sporting. Thick dark brows, tattoos, hooded eyes with long lashes, and a crooked nose proving he wasn’t afraid to get in a fight. I couldn’t deny his appeal even if I wasn’t gonna do anything about it.
He was everything I wanted and couldn’t have.
One 'The fuck you looking at?' turned into a fight where he split my lips, and I broke his finger, and there was no going back. He became my main enemy and obsession. I always look for him if I see a group of Vultures. He's a bit bigger than me, so I’ve learned ways of fighting him efficiently.
But even when my thoughts want to stray, I’ve never imagined we could—
Now is the time to get rid of the temptation he presented. For good.
Everything hurts. My hope is Grizzly will take this as an opportunity to grab a smoke while he’s away, which should offer me a bit more time, but even getting off the bed so soon after waking up istorture. My leg is itchy under the cast, my muscles must have already started wasting away from lack of use, and my head keeps spinning whenever I move that bit too fast. But I’m determined to eliminate the threat to my existence, and nothing’s going to stop me. Especially not my own body.
I move one foot after the other, huffing along the way. I find a crutch behind the bed and take it with me so I don’t have to put weight on the cast. It only makes my trek a tiny bit easier, but I’ve spent my life getting tough, and a bit of pain is not about to stop me.
I glance through the little frosted windows in the doors I pass, trying to act casual, but there’s no nurse in the corridor, and maybe for once in my life, I’ll be lucky.
A few doors down the corridor, Grizzly said, and when I notice a motorbike figurine on a table inside one of the rooms I’m passing, my heart speeds up, beating harder, as if it’s pumping more blood.
My vision’s blurry, the edge of the cast digs into the flesh of my groin, and I’m barely holding myself upright, but the moment I touch the door handle and pull the door open, my fate and Road’s are sealed. Not everyone might outright believe him if he revealed my secret, but even a shadow of doubt might be enough to stain my reputation forever. I can’t have that.
For half a second I’m not sure what I’m seeing, but as I close the door behind me, I realize half of Road’s face is bandaged up. In the most pathetic assassination attempt in history, I limp to his bed, dragging the IV with me. If I’m lucky, I’ll kill him in his sleep. Put a pillow over his fucking face and be done with it.
But his one eye opens, and he doesn’t seem groggy like I still am.
Not knowing what to do, I end up staring back at him, because maybe… he doesn’t remember what he said. Roy once had a bike accident, and lost memory of the two hours before he drove into that ditch.
Road’s looking awful, even more banged up than I feel. Both his arms are trapped in casts, and what I can see of his face is swollen and bruised. Even the eye staring my way is somewhat bloodshot, as if someone slammed his face just yesterday.
A moment passes in silence, but then his mouth twitches into a smile. “Ooh, didn’t think you’d come for that fuck so fast,” he rasps, moving all his fingers, as if he wanted to show me how eager he is. “Might be difficult in the cast, but I’ll take a hand job any day.”
He looks like shit. He’s not even touching me, and I’m already flooded with so much heat I’d worry about getting a flush if I wasn’t bruised like all fuck.
He remembers. He fucking remembers. For a moment, I wanted to give him a pass, since he can’t defend himself, to keep the honor of not killing a man at the hospital, but he’s crossed a line.
Holding on to the IV, I limp closer. I want to smash my crutch into his face, but I’m too weak and end up bringing it down on his chest with hardly enough force to cause real damage.
“I don’t know what you’re on to say shit like that!”
“The good drugs,” Road tells me and laughs, as if my attack didn’t even cause him discomfort. My gaze wanders to the IVs attached to his body. Could I overdose him and this way bear no responsibility for his passing?
“Don’t worry,” he goes on, watching me from behind the dressings. “I won’t tell your secret to anyone, but it sure gave me something to think about during lonely nights at the hospital.”
I get goose bumps all over and my heart beats faster. He’s awakening something in me I don’t like. Something no girl I’ve been with could. Deep down I’ve always known why, but facing the reason doesn’t bring me joy.
“Don’t even dare think about it. I was talking shit,” I say as I drag the crutch back to my side.
“Sure you were. As we all do when death’s about to strike,” Road mumbles, and while amusement keeps flickering in his visible eye, his voice softens, until it‘s like a warm hand stroking my nape.
How would his hands feel on my body? Fuck, no matter how much I despise him, a part of me wants to find out. I’m chewing on his words when the door behind me opens, and frost overcomes the whole room.
A woman clears her throat. “I—I didn’t know you were awake.”
Road’s done this on purpose. Kept me talking, so I wouldn’t kill him. I stalled like a fucking dumbass. Like convincing him of anything was more important than disposing of him. Or did I just like him talking to me like that? If I did, I wouldn’t be admitting it even to myself.
A chuckle behind me rips me out of my thoughts and I’m faced with several members of the Vulture Hollow MC.
“Fancy seeing you here,” their prez, Prophet, says without humor in his voice. “You brought Road some flowers? Or just exchanging tips on dealing with broken ribs?”
