Epilogue
“Be cool. Be fuckin’ cool,” I tell myself as I look in the mirror of the men's room. I don’t know what the hell I’m doin’ here; this is a bad fuckin’ idea, and it’s fuckin’ dangerous. I have no idea what to say to her when she gets here. How do I explain who I am when I don’t know myself?
I already regret acting on impulse. I’m selfish for being here, and yet I can’t walk away. I could potentially be dragging a poor, innocent girl down a path of destruction, and I can’t stop myself.
“You stay right where you fuckin’ are, Sinner.
..I mean it,” I warn my reflection by pointing my finger at it.
Staring deep into my own eyes, knowing he can hear me.
I have never been the one in control. Sinner steers the wheel in this fucked-up head of ours; he senses my weakness, he hears my thoughts, and yet I get nothin’. I’m always kept in the dark.
Taking another deep breath, I head out into the barroom and immediately feel guilt when I see her sitting at a table looking all pure and fuckin’ pretty.
She smiles when she sees me, and I smile back, hoping with every step I take toward her that Sinner ain’t gonna snatch her away from me.
“Hey.” Her smile grows wider as I take a seat and try to stop my hands from shaking.
“Thanks for coming. I wasn’t sure you would.
Can I get ya a drink?” I offer, wishing I’d have picked somewhere a little busier.
I wanted discretion. I wanted to be outta town, but now it suddenly feels echoey in here.
The two truckers sitting at the bar are probably gonna hear every word I say to her, and what I have to say is hard enough without an audience.
“Of course, I was gonna come. It’s not every day a handsome biker asks me out,” she tells me in that sweet little voice I’ve been desperate to hear again. “I’ll just take an iced water.”
“You drivin’?” I check.
“No, I got a cab here. I don’t drive.” She shakes her head.
“Okay, I’ll, erm...I’ll get ya that water.” I leave her at the table and head to the bar, placing my order and looking back over at her. She is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. It’s why I’m here now, palms sweating, questioning myself and my motives while the bartender fixes her a drink.
“You look real pretty tonight,” I tell her when I return to the table and place her water in front of her.
“Thanks.” She bites her lip and looks down at the cute summer dress she’s got on under her denim jacket.
“I wasn’t really sure what I should wear.
In all honesty, I’ve never been on a date before.
” The way she blushes makes me wanna drag her across the table and kiss her, but I hold back, and pray to God he does, too.
“Neither have I,” I admit, feeling all kindsa fuckin’ pathetic. I may have fucked a fair few women at the club, but I’ve never done anything like this before.
“You really expect me to believe that?” She giggles, and I grip my knee under the table when it gets my dick hard.
“Well, it’s the truth; dating’s a little complicated for me.”
“Complicated, how?” Her head tilts in confusion.
“Look, Raya, I don’t do this...ever. I shouldn’t be here now, but something happened that day you dropped off those flowers.
Something I don’t know how to explain...
It was like a trigger. I couldn’t let you leave without talking to you.
It was...have you ever seen me before that day?
” I question her, thinking about the tattoo Sinner put on my rib cage.
The likeness it has to her can’t be coincidental.
“No, the clubhouse was the first time,” she assures me, looking even more suspicious now. “Why?”
“No reason, I just—I’m glad you came,” I tell her again, not ready to freak her out just yet.
“You had my number for a long time before you called. I was starting to think it’d never happen.” She sips her water.
“I know, and I’m sorry; the club’s had some things going on, and I...I’ve been trying to talk myself outta this,” I confess.
“Why?” She laughs.
“Because he’s not—I’m not good for you. Like I said, dating is complicated for me. That’s why I’ve never done it before; I’m still not sure if I can do it, but selfishly, I’m here desperate to know more about you.” She looks taken aback, maybe even a little scared.
“Saint, I’m just a girl who delivered a bunch of flowers to your clubhouse.” She shakes her head, still looking confused.
“No, you’re not. I accepted who I am a long time ago.
I resigned myself to the fact I’d never have anyone, but seeing you that day made me wanna.
..I don’t know, Raya, I just felt something I ain’t ever felt before.
...I’m sorry, I’m not explaining myself very well.
” I scrub my hand over my face in frustration.
“It’s fine, you're doing good.” I hate the look of pity on her face.
She should be out with a guy who can show her a good time and make her laugh.
“I’m flattered that you thought that. I was so surprised when you chased me out of that clubhouse and asked for my number…
People don’t tend to notice me,” she tells me sadly.
“Are you kiddin’? I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as beautiful as you are…
Shit, that sounded fuckin’ corny.” I curse myself when I hear my words out loud.
“I warned you I wouldn’t be good at this.
” I bury my head in my hand, and when she takes the one I have on the table in hers, I feel a bolt of energy travel up through my arm and strike my chest.
“I think it was nice.” She smiles warmly.
“I think you're nice, too, that's why I came.” She shrugs her shoulders.
“Let’s not talk about what's complicated; let's talk about what's simple.” She squeezes my hand a little tighter.
“My name’s Raya, I work at my mom's florist shop. I like going to the beach, reading, and I have a dog called Popsicle,” she explains, then waits for me to reciprocate.
“Okay, I’m Saint. I’m a member of the Dirty Souls motorcycle club.
I like bikes...obviously, and I get along great with dogs.
” I at least try to show her that I have a sense of humour.
Oh yeah, and I also have another guy living in my head, who I’m pretty fuckin’ sure is the Long Beach serial killer.
That part I decide to keep to myself. I like how it feels to have her holding my hand, and I’d like to know more about her before I tell her the truth and send her fuckin’ running.
“Popsicle is very particular about the company he keeps,” she warns me with a smile.
“So is it just you, your mom, and Popsicle?” I ask, wanting to know more. I want to know everything. I’ve thought of this girl every fuckin’ day since the first time I saw her. I also wanna know how her naked body ended up tattooed on my skin.
“Yeah, my dad ran out on us when I was two. It’s just been me and her, ever since.”
“Must be tough.” I don’t like to think about my own parents. There's not much I’m sure about in life, but the fact that I’m better off without them is one thing I can be certain of.
“We’ve always stayed positive. She’s worked hard to get her own shop.
She went without so much while I was growing up, but hard work pays off.
” Raya shrugs again, and I have no idea how she can make every little gesture look so pretty.
“What about your parents? Do they live here in Long Beach?” she questions.
“I don’t speak to my parents. I left them behind years ago. The club are my family,” I tell her.
“I heard about what happened to your president. I’m sorry.”
“It’s gonna be tough without him; he was a good leader. He changed the club when he took over, made us all better men.” I miss Raze. He may not have been a man of many words, but what he did say always made sense.
We continue talking; she tells me more about her dog, and I love the way her eyes light up every time she says his name.
She asks me more questions about the club and is surprised when I tell her about the old ladies and what happened after she delivered that bridal bouquet.
I can’t help imagining her sitting with ’em at the clubhouse, talking and laughing like she’s part of our fucked-up family.
It’s stupid of me, because I know I can’t ever have her, the way the other club brothers have their women.
This girl can never be mine, not while I have a demon inside me.
I’ve put her at risk by bringing her here tonight.
Temptation has had me going against all my better judgment.
“I should get home, Mom’ll worry if I’m late.” She takes out her phone to call a cab.
“I can give ya a ride,” I blurt out, desperate to know how it feels to have her on my saddle, holding onto me. I gave myself tonight with her. I can give myself that, too. “That’s if you don’t mind the bike.”
“I’ve never ridden a bike before.” She blushes.
“Well, there’s a first time for everything; wanna try it?” I stand up and offer her my hand, feeling that same warmth in my chest when she takes it and stands up, full of excitement.
I pull up outside her mother’s florist shop and know I’m gonna instantly miss the arms she has wrapped around my middle when she moves them away.
I could sense how nervous she was when we first left the bar; she clung to me so tight I could barely breathe, but a few miles out, she started to relax.
She rested her head on my shoulders, and I felt her laugh against my back.
It was one of the best experiences of my life, and one I’m gonna have to treasure.
“Thanks for the ride.” She slides off my saddle, and I place my kickstand down so I can walk her to the door.
“I had a great night. I’m glad you finally called.” She bites her lip again, and every time she does it, it makes me feel like I’m slowly drowning.
“So am I.” I have to put both hands in my jeans pockets to stop myself from touching her.
“Goodnight.” She takes her keys from her purse and smiles awkwardly before she turns around to open her door.
“Goodnight.” I prepare to walk away, knowing I can never see her again. I was so fuckin’ stupid to do this. The unknown could have been manageable, but the torture of not having her after tonight will be unbearable.
“Saint,” she calls after me, and I spin around so fast I almost give myself whiplash.
“You know, whatever the complication is, I’m sure we could find a way.
I’d really like to ride on your bike again.
” She smiles so sweetly, I feel that draw toward her again, and it takes over my body, forcing me to step closer.
She holds her breath like she senses what’s coming and has suddenly become nervous, and when that temptation takes over me completely, I slide my finger under her chin, tilt her head up, and allow myself to taste her lips.
I’ve never kissed a girl before in my life.
I have nothing to compare it to, but any ache, any pain, or any hate I’ve ever suffered seems to rise outta my body.
Images of her smiling and laughing flash through my head, taking over all those bad memories that stop me from sleeping at night.
She tastes like ice cream on a hot day; her lips are so soft I’m scared I’ll hurt them, and just as I’m about to slide my tongue between them and taste her some more, what I’ve feared all night suddenly strikes.
That sharp stab of pain slices through the back of my head, and my body instantly starts to weaken. Grabbing the girl by her shoulders, I force her back, putting a huge gap between us before I release her.
“Saint?” She stands staring at me, looking confused and disappointed.
“I have to go.” I breathe, trying to calm down and hold him back for enough time to get her safely inside.
“Are you okay?” Her forehead creases with concern.
“I’m fine, but you need to get inside.” I start stepping backward toward my bike. Hating having to tear myself away from her.
“Why....I—”
“I mean it, Raya, get inside!” I raise my voice at her because she ain’t fuckin’ listening. “Lock your door, and if you ever see me again, turn and run.” I can feel myself fading; I don’t have much time.
“Saint, I thoug—”
“Get the fuck inside!” I yell at her when she steps toward me.
I hate the way her eyes fill with tears, and her lips start to shake.
“Please,” I beg in a much softer tone. “I’m sorry, Raya, but this ain’t ever gonna work.
” I get on my bike and start the engine, revving the throttle and taking off as fast as I can so I can get him away from her.
I feel the numbness start to take over. It ain’t my grip holding the bars no more; I’m not in control of where I’m heading, and all I can do is hope it ain’t back toward her as my mind goes numb too, and I’m back in the dark.