With that, I stand up. “I had a long damn night; I’m hitting the bed.”
“Sleep well, Hermano. I’m heading out, riding the lead to Nashville.”
“Ride safe, brother.” I lift my chin, before heading to my room.
As soon as I walk through the door, I shed my clothes and climb into bed. Folding my hands behind my head, I lean back and close my eyes. Sleep comes fast, and dreams of Shay follow closely behind. Sweet fuckin’ dreams.
*****
As sleep clears from my brain, I feel a weight on top of me. I’m about to reach under the pillow for my extra piece, when the strong scent of perfume reaches my nose. Instantly, I know who is in my bed and I’m fuckin’ irate. Shrugging Domino’s body from mine, I climb out of the bed. As soon as my feet hit the floor, I kick the mattress so hard it nearly comes off the frame.
Domino’s eyes open, as she reaches up to grab the headboard. She barely catches herself from sliding to the floor. She slowly sits up and runs a hand through her tangled hair, before she looks up at me. “What the hell, Bowie?”
“Why the fuck are you in my bed?” I ask, furious with her.
“I fell asleep.” She explains, dropping the sheet and giving me a view of her ample tits.
I know what she’s trying to do, but it’s not working. My dick wants something else, someone else to be exact. “Explain to me how you ended up falling asleep in my damn bed, when I never invited you into it.”
She looks away, staring at her hands. She’s doing her best to look hurt, but I know better than that shit. Domino has never been hurt by anything except not getting her damn way. “I asked you a question, and I want a fuckin’ answer.”
She finally looks up, anger flashing in her eyes. “I came in after you fell asleep. I’d been sitting at the fuckin’ bar all night, waiting for you. I wasn’t going to run away just because you were in a shit mood.”
I lean down, placing my face only inches from hers. “Listen to me, you stupid bitch. Never walk into my room without being asked, and just so you know, that’s not gonna happen anymore. If you pull shit like this again, or if I hear about you telling anyone else you’re my woman, you’ll never step foot on Outlaw property again.”
“Bowie...” She starts, but I cut her off.
“Get the fuck out of my room, before I throw your naked ass into the hallway myself.”
She opens her mouth to say something else, something that is probably going to make me even more pissed, but shuts it when someone bangs on my door. Without waiting for a reply, Cash walks in. He looks from Domino to me.
“You can get your rocks off later. Right now, I want you in my office.” He turns around and walks out without another word.
My eyes follow him until his shadow fades down the hallway then I look back at Domino. “Get your clothes on and get the hell out.”
She starts to say something else, but I shake my head. “I don’t have time for your shit, and I never will. Now, fuckin’ go.”
Me Again
Shay
I stare into the mirror as I run a finger over my overly full lips. After years of injections, I wonder if they will ever look normal again. Moving from my lips to my nose, I feel hollow when I reach the spot where the bump used to be. My hands then go to my eyes, reaching the skin that is pulled taut from multiple Botox injections. I wonder if I will ever look like me again, will I always look like Marcus’ doll?
I continue to stare at my eyes in the mirror, noticing the brown contacts are still covering the blue they should be. When I woke up, I instinctively put them back in. After years of being reminded to wear them and threatened when I didn’t, I never forget to put them in the moment I crawl from bed. My fingers shake as I prepare to remove them for the final time. Just as I gain the courage, a knock sounds at the door. My hands fly down to my side, fear flowing through my veins.
I hear the voice of a girl, not young but not quite grown either, coming through the door. “Hurry up, Shay. I can’t wait to get to the mall.”
What? I reach for the knob and slowly pull it open, to find a teenage girl standing just a few feet away. Her hair is blonde, a bit lighter than mine used to be. Her eyes are green, reminding me of the deep shade of a four leaf clover. Her face is beautiful, in only the way a young girl can be. When my eyes narrow in on her nose, I know it’s Rachel. She’s the girl from the pictures I saw last night. The sister Bowie calls Priss.
“Hey, I’m Rachel.” She introduces herself, proving my assumption true.
“Hi, I’m La… I’m Shay.” Fumbling my new name already is not a good sign.