Page 70 of Volt
“I’m not sure.”
Blake rolls over onto his side and props his head up on his arm. Even in the darkness, his eyes are penetrating. I can feel him looking deep inside of me, searching my soul. He has the uncanny ability to break through all my defenses, to see into me in ways nobody ever has before. It’s unnerving but thrilling at the same time.
Given what he’s mixed up in, he could be taken from me in the blink of an eye. What would I be left with then? Emptiness. And I feel like I’ve had enough of that to last me a lifetime.
“I know why you’re so cautious with me,” he says. “I understand why you’re so tentative. I really do.”
“Then what are we going to do about it?”
“I need you to trust me. To believe in me.”
I shake my head. “It’s not a matter of trust or belief. I can do those things but neither of them are going to stop a bullet,” I say. “As we’ve seen.”
“That’s fair,” he says softly.
“And that’s the problem. These things you’re mixed up in—those are things I don’t understand. I mean, I get why you and your club do the things you do. And I think what you do for Blue Rock is admirable. I have so much respect for you all for putting yourselves at risk like that,” I tell him. “But that’s not a world I’m used to. It’s not a world I’m comfortable in. And it’s definitely not a world I want somebody I’m involved with messing around in. It’s dangerous.”
“It is dangerous,” he replies. “But like I keep telling you, this isn’t the norm. This is an aberration to our normal life. I promise you that.”
“Until the next time.”
“I’m hoping there is no next time,” he says.
“But what if there is?” I press. “What if there is another bad guy who comes along—”
“We can play hypotheticals or we can deal with what’s right here on our plate in front of us—in reality.”
I stare up at the exposed beams of the ceiling overhead, trying to figure out what’s in my own head. I know what’s in my heart and that’s not helping. That’s not giving me the answers I want or need.
“There are always risks in life, Fallon. Either one of us could get wiped out when we’re out riding,” he says. “There will always be things we can’t control. Things that happen to us. We can either live in fear and deny ourselves those things we want most. Or we can accept that sometimes, bad things happen that we can’t control and just embrace the time we have, grabbing hold of those things that bring us joy and not letting go of them.”
“But you can control your situation. You could—”
“I can’t. And you know why,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “Could you turn your back on people you care about when they need you most?”
I gnaw on my bottom lip for a moment then shake my head. “No, I suppose I couldn’t. Though, to be perfectly fair, nobody I care about would be going to war with a drug cartel.”
He laughed softly. “I guess that’s fair,” he says. “I just need you to trust that I was trained for this. I’m a soldier, Fallon. I always will be. Same with my guys. This is just another war and that’s something we’re all very good at.”
“People die in war.”
“Yes. And people die just lying in bed too,” he says. “It’s like I said, there’s risk in simply living. You make me happy. And regardless of what’s happening in my life, I want to hang onto you tightly. I don’t want to walk away from you simply because I’m afraid of what could happen. No, I want to enjoy every minute I have with you.”
My mind is filled with so many different things that I can’t keep track of them. As we’ve spoken, I’ve started to see things from a different perspective. He’s right in that there is risk involved by just living life. And I’m starting to see that I’ve lived my life avoiding risk but also denying myself those things I truly want. I’ve played it safe for so long that I know I’ve missed out on a lot.
That’s not saying I’m totally on board with this cartel war. Not even close. Fighting and killing aren’t things I find acceptable. That’s not my world. That’s Blake’s world or at least, part of it. There are different sides to all of us. We all have our feet in different worlds. And his life with his club is only one part of him. There is also the side of him I’ve gotten to know over these past weeks. And that man is amazing.
Would I be cutting off my nose to spite my face if I broke things off simply because I was afraid of what might happen to him? Because he is right. He could just as easily be killed while he’s out riding. Sure, the situation is different, but the net effect is the same—I’d lose somebody I loved and would be alone again.
And as I lay there, staring at the darkened ceiling, I realize that’s the root of this mess in my head—my fear of losing a loved one and being alone. I don’t know why that wasn’t obvious to me from the start.
I roll over to face him and offer him a small smile. “I can’t say I’m down with what you’re doing. I won’t say it because I’m not.”
“I get it,” he says.
“But you make some valid points. You’re making me see things in ways I haven’t considered before,” I say.
“So, where does that leave us?”
