The Rage: Hell's Disciples MC 3(54)

I'm hoping by now you know about Georgia. When I left I didn't know I  was pregnant. I wouldn't have kept her from you if I did, but I've done  the best I can to make sure she is healthy, and I've had a lot of help.  You will love her. She is the most beautiful child I have ever seen.

Ryan kept us away after she was born. I had to stay to keep her safe  then, too, but she is yours. I promise you that. I'm sure you're  terrified, but you'll do great with her. She'll love you, because I love  you. You'll love her too. You have enough love stored away for a  lifetime of love for that little girl. I have no doubts in you. I know  you'll do me proud.

I'm sorry you missed the begging of her life. I could tell you about it,  though. She was the best thing you could have ever given me. Thank you  for her. She was born on March ninth. She weighed six pounds and nine  ounces, nineteen inches long. She came out looking exactly like she does  now; exactly like you. She was perfect. She still is. I named her after  your Mom because I know how much you loved her. I won't worry if she'll  be okay with you. I know you'll take good care of her like you did me.  You say you don't love anyone, well you will love her.

She loves to be read to. She also loves when I tell her stories about  you. She enjoys walks and seeing people. She sleeps with me, so sorry, I  kind of spoiled her that way. She loves bananas, but hates peas. She  loves to cuddle. She goes to bed at eight and usually gets up at nine.  She's a pain to dress, she never sits still, but she looks adorable in  dresses. I know it's a lot, but you'll be a wonderful dad.

When she's old enough, please tell her how much I wanted her. Tell her  she is the best part of the two of us. Please tell her I loved her more  than life itself. Tell her how much I loved you both.

Lastly, I hope you know how much I love you. You saved me. You made me  feel safe. You showed me what it was like to have a family, and you  showed me there really are wonderful people out there in the world. I  learned what it was truly like to be loved unconditionally by someone.  Even if it was never said, I know you loved me. I always remember the  way you looked at me, and there was love there, always. I know I would  have found you again. I know we would have had together forever.

I hope you know you were my best friend. You and Georgia have my heart.

I love you more than you will ever know.

Lala.

I hate this letter. I hate it so goddamn much it makes me fucking sick.  Every time I read it, it makes it hard to breathe. It tears my heart up  and it makes that ache worse. I relive every painful moment from the  last four years. I see it all again. I feel it all again. I have to live  with it all over again. I hate to read it.

Some days I'm mad at her, mad that she didn't stay. Mad that she tried  to take my chance at loving her for those years away from me when she  walked out of our front door. I understand her decision to leave, we all  did once we read the letter, but maybe if I did things differently,  things could have been different.

I'm mad at myself for never telling her how much she changed my life,  how much she meant to me. How much I fucking loved her. I'm mad it all  had to fucking happen the way it did.

But most days are filled with good memories of Lala. I love her. I will  gladly and happily spend the rest of my life with the terrible shit that  happened because I got to spend the best part of my life being with  someone who is so pure, so perfect, so amazing that I can only consider  myself blessed to have known her. I would never give that time back, no  matter how fucking bad it was at the end. No fucking chance.

She gave me the greatest gifts in life, a daughter and her unconditional  love. And with those things, I am the luckiest motherfucker alive. With  those things, I can live a life full of happiness and love, because I  had Lala in my life.                       
       
           


///
       

****





The screen door whines and I listen for the soft footsteps. One, two,  three, four. "Are you really out here torturing yourself?" Lala grumbles  at me with a dramatic ass sigh. There's my little bossy girl. Plopping  down in the chair across from me, she smiles. All sweet and fucking  perfect. She's wearing those ripped up jean shorts and a t-shirt,  looking fucking amazing. Throwing her legs over mine, she gets  comfortable.





"Rampage. You gotta stop this." She tells me sternly.





Shaking her head, she snatches the shot glass from my hand and throws it back.





"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." I know she's not, but it doesn't  mean I don't need to remind myself. I need to remind myself how goddamn  lucky I truly am. I'm fucking blessed, there isn't another word for it.  It doesn't mean I still don't think about it all. She's here and she is  never going anywhere.





"Goddamn right you're not."





I lost her four years ago. I truly almost lost her 3 years ago. After  putting her in a rehab center close to home, we were with her every day  ‘til she finally came out of her come. It's been a long road with rehab,  counseling, even reconstructive surgery on her face due to so many  broken facial bones, especially around her eye socket. Lots of healing  had to be done, but we all did it together.





I never truly understood what Tank went through with Sis. I never  understood the drinking, the pushing, the pulling, but I fucking get it  now. It's hard to swallow the idea of almost losing someone. For us it  wasn't an idea, it was a possibility; a reality. I watched her dying on  me. I watched her fight for her life. I know exactly what he went  through. That's a sick fucking bond we now share.

Instead of medicating with alcohol and insanity, I live. Just being  around Lala helps that shit. With her I can push that shit away. I can  love her and that's all the medication I need for that shit.

"Are you going to spend my birthday being a giant pain in my ass?  Georgia is gone for the afternoon and I want to do something." She  wiggles her eyebrows at me. If she wants to fuck, she sure the fuck  doesn't have to ask me.

"Whatcha wanna do today, baby?" Peeking up at me with wicked eyes, she smirks. Fuck me, this should be good.

"I want another tattoo."

"Fuck no." That is never happening. Throwing her hands up, she glares at  me. "It's my birthday." Right. It's her birthday, but she's not putting  more ink on her skin. I own all of that perfect skin and she's not  doing shit to it.

"And that," I tip my head at her body, "is my body, and I don't want anyone touchin' it or puttin' shit on it."

"You're a pain in the ass." I know I am, and I know she loves it.

"You already said that, Lala. Pick somethin' else." For a minute she  doesn't say anything and that could be bad, really fucking bad.

"I know what I want for my birthday."

"Give it to me baby."

"I want you to get another tattoo."

Well, I wasn't expecting that. Not the worst idea. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I want ‘Lala & Georgia' right across your forehead," she laughs. That's not going to fucking happen.

"Not on my face babe, but anywhere else, you name it and it'll go there."

"Really?" Really.

I'd give her and Georgia anything. There is not a goddamn thing I wouldn't do for my family.

"Yeah. You want ‘Lala & Georgia' tatted on me, baby?"

Nodding, she smiles, "Yep."

"Alright, babe. Let's go get you a birthday tat." Standing up, I hold my  hand out to her. Setting that small soft hand in mine, I pull her up  and into me, "I love you, Lala."

"I know you do, and I kinda love you too."





The End.