Chapter 21
Reaper
My body is on fire, but that’s to be expected after everything those fucking assholes—Travis, Fang, and Fang’s brothers in the Black Plague MC—did to me a couple of days ago.
Not to mention what they did to Levi, my Half-pint warrior whom I’ve since claimed as my sister.
I would have taken more of their torture if it meant she would never have been touched by their filthy hands.
That first morning when the nurse and doctors came in to check out both of our wounds, I made sure to memorize every single thing those fuckers did to me. I know without even asking her that Half-pint did the same for her wounds. Those assholes will feel everything they did to us.
And more.
Remembering what Half-pint and Thor told me about my heart, I take a few deep breaths. I don’t need my heart going into overdrive and then having something else go wrong. As I breathe deeply, Half-pint’s words from a few nights ago come to mind.
Leaning back, I rest my head against my pillow. What did she mean when she said she was going to use the coping mechanisms she learned last time to help her cope?
I definitely need something to help me cope with everything.
And I don’t mean talking to a fucking shrink.
I keep having nightmares about what those assholes did to Half-pint as well as what they could have done to her.
It’s fucking embarrassing that Devil’s had to wake me up from each one because I would start yelling or trying to move around too much.
Neither he nor the others have said anything, but I know they all know about my nightmares.
Or I should say our nightmares.
More than once, I’ve heard Levi calling out in the middle of the night.
Smoke, Alexei, or one of her men usually wake her, but it kills me every time I hear her strangled cries. Especially since almost every single one has her calling out my name, or Andre as she’s taken to calling me. I hate that my pain is causing her pain.
At least her wounds weren’t as severe as mine. She only had to stay in the hospital three nights, but part of that was because she developed a fever and an infection that first night. She visited me yesterday and said she was going to visit again today, but she’s not who I really want to visit me.
I pause, twirling my phone in my hands. I haven’t even told Lark everything that’s happened yet.
She knows I was injured, but not the extent of my injuries.
If she weren’t elbow deep in preparations for reopening her supper club and the grand opening of her tavern on July 1st, she would probably be here. Sighing, I drop my phone in my lap.
“You need to tell her, Tony.”
My gaze snaps to Devil’s, shocked that he’s using my real name. He only does that when he’s trying to get through to me to make some sort of point.
I chew on my lip as I debate his words.
“You know she won’t care about the scars.
Well, she will in that she’ll want to put quite a few holes into the assholes who did this to you, but she isn’t going to push you away because of them.
That’d be pretty hypocritical, don’t you think?
” He cocks an eyebrow at me and I grunt, annoyed that my best friend is right.
However, that’s not all that’s bothering me.
“My head’s all fucked up, Isaac,” I reply, ditching his road name as well.
“Then talk to Levi. I think what she’s been doing will really help you sort out those thoughts. Fuck, they might even help Lark.”
I frown. How does he know what she’s been doing to cope?
He chuckles as if he knows what I’m thinking. “I talked to her last night when I saw her writing in a journal. She—”
He’s cut off by a knock on the door and he gets up to answer it. His grin tells me it’s probably Half-pint and when he steps back, I realize I was right.
Levi smiles widely when she sees me and, like before, she brings a chair over by my bed and carefully sits down in it. However, this time, I notice she has a backpack with her that she’s put on the empty bed that used to be hers.
I’m about to say something when Devil gives me a pointed look and he steps out into the hallway, and I can hear him talking to Punisher before he shuts the door.
Levi stares at the door, a puzzled look on her face and I take a deep breath before clearing my throat.
I wonder if she caught the look Devil gave me.
“Half-pint, there’s something you said the other night that keeps nagging me, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask you about it until now.”
She moves to sit cross-legged in her chair before twirling a pen in her fingers. Ever since our kidnapping, she always seems to need to be doing something with her hands at all times. It’s like she can’t sit still.
“What’s that?”
“What do you do to cope? How do you bring yourself out of those dark thoughts and not let them eat away at who you are?”
Levi gives me a small, understanding smile. “Sometimes I talk to Dad or Uncle Bear about what I’m feeling. Other times Sasha. I also spar or throw knives to relieve pent-up frustrations.”
She pauses and gets up, grabbing the backpack off the bed before sitting back down and setting the bag on her lap.
She pulls out two journals, one that has a black cover, and the other has a blue cover, as well as a pack of multi-colored pens.
Taking a deep breath herself, she hands me the journals but I don’t open them, sensing that I need to wait.
“I also keep two journals, and I always have a stack of each color for when I fill one up. The blue one is my everyday journal to chart how I’m feeling. I use whichever color pen strikes my fancy but never black or red for the lengthy daily journal entries.
“On days that are exceptionally hard, I make a note, like this one,” she says as she opens up the blue everyday journal and flips to the page she wants.
She then points down to a note that’s written in red.
“If I feel like I’m in a really dark place, I’ll make a note like that in either black or red ink that says I used the black journal today.
That’s how I track how frequently I use it.
I only use black or red pens for the black journal.
“In the black journal, I write everything down that I’m feeling.
Times where it seems like I’m caught in the clutches of darkness and trying to claw my way out.
I would write out every dark, and often torturous, action I’d do to my captors.
When I found myself crawling out of that dark hole, I’d go out back to our firepit and light a fire.
Then I’d rip out those pages and tear them up before rolling them into little balls and throwing them into the fire, letting the fire burn away my hateful and gruesome thoughts.
“At first, the time periods between needing to write in the black journal were usually pretty frequent. Dad had heard of a saying that some therapists use with their patients to gauge how they’re doing.
He’d ask me ‘how long’. Meaning how long has it been since I felt the urge to write in the black journal and I’d always answer truthfully.
Over time, the time periods between using the black journal and burning the pages lengthened.
Eventually, I’ll burn the blue ones too when I feel I’m in a good place to put it all behind me. ”
Looking down at her journal, I stay silent as I flip through the pages, but I don’t read what she wrote because I’m not that much of a jackass.
Frowning, my stomach clenches when I realize how many pages are filled already.
Rage starts to build again in my veins, but I push it down.
Devil’s words mixed with what Levi just told me has me nodding as I make my decision.
“Can you bring me some journals? I’d like to try it.”
She gives me another small, understanding smile before reaching into the backpack and pulling out four other journals, two black and two blue ones, as well as a second pack of multi-colored pens. She sets everything down on the table that’s currently positioned over my bed and has my water on it.
“I wasn’t sure if you would want to try it, but I brought some just in case.”
Licking my lips, I close her journals. I could have looked myself to find out how long it’s been since she last used the journal, but I want to fully try her method. My eyes burn as memories attempt to flood me again, but I push them aside for now.
“How long?”
Levi gives me a small, sad smile. “Ten hours, and it’s only that long because I was asleep for most of it. Do you feel the urge to use the black one?”
Immediately, I nod, my hands tightening around her journals. She holds her hand out for them and when I give them back to her, she hands me the pens, a black journal and a blue journal.
“When you’re out of here, we’ll have a bonfire where you can burn your pages if you want.”
“I’d like that,” I tell her honestly.
Opening the package of pens, I take out a blue and red pen.
Flipping open the blue journal, I write today’s date and a note in red ink saying I used the black journal.
Switching to the black journal, I start writing, continuing to use the red pen as I explain everything I want to do to those fuckers, and before long, I imagine their blood on my hands as I make them pay for what they did.
Levi shuffles in her seat, and out of the corner of my eye, I notice her starting to write in her own journal.
After supper, Levi, her men, and the other guys from their club that rode with them as guards leave.
Devil’s in here with me, playing some game on his phone while Punisher and Beast are keeping watch outside my door.
We have no idea if we missed any Black Plague members or if Sean was working with anyone else, so everyone’s still on edge.
Eyeing my phone on the table, I pick it up again and open up my thread with Lark.
Reaper: Hey, Darlin’. How was your day?
Lark: Hey yourself, Handsome