Chapter 55
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
THE DAY
Dark
Using my cane to help me stand, I stare at myself in the truck stop mirror after my shower. At least I’m not a total unkempt bum when I see Iris again. Sure, my face is fucked up, as are my arms, chest, and legs. Every part of me is different from before. Well, sorta. You get what I mean.
I run a hand down my bumpy, scarred-up abs to my bare cock.
Eleven months without an orgasm.
Damn. I don’t think I’ve gone that long before.
It hasn’t felt right to touch him, given who he belongs to. I haven’t been hard in just as long. Pain robs you of that desire.
Palming my flaccid member, I cup my balls as I stare down at him with his overgrown bush of black hair with bits of gray. “You’re gonna see her today. We’re gonna touch her. Then maybe you’ll wake the fuck up,” I hiss at him, and in return, he doesn’t budge. Not a twitch. Nothing.
Sighing, I release myself, grab the lotion from the sink, and slather it on my damp skin.
Then comes the deodorant, teeth brushing, hair combing, and shaving, a.k.a.
trim-the-bush thing, before I dress in a clean pair of jeans and a white T-shirt.
Then I don my leather Sacred Sinner MC cut from the hook on the wall.
It’s a miracle the damn thing survived. Angel’s sister fixed what she could of the seared patches and punctures.
The blood was probably the hardest to get out, but I didn’t ask.
Just like me, it’s seen better days, but it’s still kickin’.
On my way out, I throw my duffel bag over my shoulder to carry it to the van, where Pops sits, all freshened up.
Opening the back, I toss the bag beside Sal, who pounces on it as soon as it lands on my bedroll, then climb into the passenger seat, set my cane beside me, and knock on the console. “You ready to do this, old man?” I ask him.
Pops clasps me on the shoulder. “The better question is, are you?”
With a firm nod, I fish Iris’s ring outta my pocket and slide it onto my pinkie finger.
Emotions clog my throat as Pops starts the van and music fills the dead air.
Just before I get out to handle business, I snatch the final piece of my plan from the cupholder and exit with my cane.
Pops waits on the road as I amble to the porch, where I set a pair of chopsticks I got at dinner last night.
I ring the doorbell, then half-ass rush to her driveway, where I wait.
To go reunite with Kali, my father lifts a hand in goodbye, and I reply in kind as my heart beats out of my fucking chest, waiting for my woman to open the door.
It feels like years, though it can only be a minute or two tops, before the sexiest woman alive, wearing squirrel pajamas and looking adorably confused as hell, steps onto the stoop and takes one look at the chopsticks.
“Sweetheart,” I rasp from beside her truck, unable to wait another moment to feel those perfect eyes on me.
“Dark!?” she sobs as she clutches her chest.
Tears wreck my vision as I lean on my cane for help to get to my woman, to touch her, to feel her, to kiss her once more.
“Sweetheart.” I wince as my bad knee twists the wrong way, but I keep going, needing Iris like I need my next breath.
Racing down the steps, she runs across the grass barefoot until she’s right here, with me.
I reach out with a trembling hand and cup her cheek to know this is real.
“Hi,” she croaks.
“I’m sorry.” I hate that I did this to her, to us. To have been apart for so long. For her not knowing what happened to me.
My beautiful woman wraps her arms around me and buries her face between my pecs.
My entire body sags in relief. Her familiar scent drifts into my nose, and her warmth fills me.
It’s heaven. Undeserved perfection. Just as she is, for not slapping me, not being angry, just happy to have me here.
A dam cracks open in my chest, and I suck back a sob that threatens to bring me to my knees.
I have her. With me. Iris. The woman in my dreams. The woman I fuckin’ love.
We stand like this together on the lawn. I don’t know for how long, but it’s never enough. When she pulls back and helps me limp into her house, I drop onto her hideous couch with a sigh. I still can’t believe she’s kept this thing all these months.
“Do you need anything?” she asks, sitting next to me, her thigh touching mine.
Needing to be close, I rest my hand on her bare leg and smile through the tears. I pull the ring off my pinky and offer it to her.
“You. I just need you,” I croak, my throat thick with emotion. “Marry me.”
Iris’s face crumbles, and she collapses into my arms. I yank her onto my lap and cradle her there for as long as she needs.
I’m here. I’ve got her. I’ll protect her, love her, and care for her, for always, from this day forward.
There’s no leaving now. No more fuck-ups. No more doing this life alone.