“Yeah. A stitch or two ‘n I’m cool. You alright?” Taking a deep calming breath, she nods once. That’s all she’s gonna give me. “Gotta give me more than that,” A nod just isn’t gonna do it for me this time. I need her words.
“I’m alright, really. Just worried about your arm,” I know she’s skating around this conversation. Too bad for her I’m not letting shit go.
“Need more, Lala. Watched you beat that man with a bat until there wasn’t shit left of his head.” Looking away from me, she walks back to the bed. I follow those long legs up. She’s only wearing my t-shirt and her hair is wet, smells like flowers. Right now I want nothing more than to fuck her slow and sweet, then cuddle up with her and sleep, but I need this shit out there. “That wasn’t the first time you’ve done that, is it baby?”
Her head snaps up to mine, eyes wide. “I’ve never used a bat.” That’s all I needed to hear. My sweet, innocent Lala has done this shit before.
“Tell me why? What would cause you to kill someone?” Shaking her head she backs away from me and starts looking around on the floor, goin’ for a pair of sweats, but I grab them before she can. “Goddammit. Just tell me.”
“No!” Going for her purse, I grab her arm. Jerking her into me, she tries to pull away but that’s not happenin’. She’s not running from me.
“Lala.”
“I had to do it,” she states calmly… too fucking calmly. Her body is relaxed and it’s fucking eerie.
“And?”
“And nothing.”
“Fuck! Tell me.”
Sitting on the bed she looks at her hands. Her face is impassive and her demeanor is void of any emotion. She just looks detached, and that scares me.
“When I was fifteen, a man my mom had dated for years, Ryan’s dad, tried to force me to fuck him.”
Instantly I start seeing red. “He raped you,” I correct her.
“Tried,” she corrects me. My heart twists and my hands start shaking. “For years he’d do things like kiss me on the mouth, pin me into corners just to rub himself against me, things like that, but it never went that far. Then one night he tried to talk me into it. When I said no, he thought he could persuade me by holding me down, forcing me into fighting him off ‘cause he liked it rough. I had to make a choice and I didn’t have a lot of time to think about it. I just knew that I had to take care of it, make sure he couldn’t ever do it again. And well, I’m still here, and he’s not.” She shrugs her shoulder carelessly. “It doesn’t matter.”
“The fuck it doesn’t”
I don’t get it. Lil had a difficult time dealing with the life she took. People usually do. Lil’s learned to deal with it, but she’ll still get upset if you bring it up. It’s like Lala could give a fuck either way. I want to know how. I don’t know why, but I do.
“How Lala?” Her eyes are downcast, but I see the strength in there.
“He pinned me down underneath him. I knew he carried a gun on him somewhere at all times, so decided to play along, make him think I changed my mind and wanted him, so I let him touch me, and I touched him back. When I got my hand to the waist of his jeans, I found his gun. I put it under his chin and pulled the trigger. I shot him.” My stomach rolls. She shot him in the head.
“While he was on top of you?” She nods her head and I get a clear picture. Blood and brains everywhere. Jesus Christ.
I let that shit sit for a minute. No fucking clue how to even approach any of it. It seems like she’s worked it all out herself. She doesn’t strike me as a hardened, cold blooded killer, but she doesn’t seem all that bothered by it.
Sitting down next to her, I say, “I don’t get it. You don’t seem bothered by it.”
She looks at me and it honest to God scares the shit out of me, “It’s not like I enjoyed it, but I was satisfied. He tried to take something from me, so I took his life. I don’t regret it, and I would do it again if I had to make that choice. You don’t know what my life was like. I was fifteen and I killed my mom’s boyfriend because he wanted to rape me. She blamed me after I told her why. She said it was my fault for making him want me, but she was so strung out on drugs and freaking out, but I forgave her for saying it. She wasn’t in her right mind, but because of it, she quit the drugs and tried to be a mom to me, even if it was only for a little while. I told you all this, except for the thing that happened with him, the reason we left. We left Ryan behind, thinking he would tell his dad’s drug dealing friends, but the only person who came looking for us was Ryan, and instead of handing me over to them, he used me. I took his money, his dad’s support of him away, leaving him to have to do for himself. I was in a relationship with him at 15, he was 18. My mom approved of it. Because of what I did, he’s even more sick than his dad was, so tell me something. What the hell was I supposed to do? I killed a bad person and I’m still paying for it. I picked me. I’m still here − I won.”
“You’re not a bad person baby.” I reassure her. And she’s not. I don’t blame her for shit she’s done. In fact I’m proud as fuck she did that shit. She’s still alive and kicking, and that’s something to be thankful for. “I needed to know, Lala. I needed you to say it out loud ‘cause I don’t think you ever have. I don’t want that shit haunting you, and now I know, so you’re not alone. I understand and I get it. You also saved my family tonight.”
“ I did what I had to do. I’m gonna sleep easy knowing that I took care of me and the people I care about.”
“You need to talk about it, you talk to me. Now c’mere. I need you.”
You know what they say, “Onwards and upwards.” That’s Lala. She’s unfazed. Fuck, she’s unshakeable; a goddamn badass. It’s been a few days and she’s okay. I’m gonna let her deal with it how she feels she needs to, and come to me if she wants to. Not pushin’ her. She’s got her shit more together than most of us here do.
“Come here,” Sis grabs my arm and tugs me into the office as I walk by. Shutting the door, she leans against it and hushes me. Fuck. I didn’t even say anything.
“What’s wrong with you, crazy ass. Why ya tuggin’ on me for?”
“It’s Lala’s birthday,” she whispers loudly at me, giving me the evil eye. How the fuck would I know that.
“I don’t know.”
“I’m not askin’, dumbass. I’m tellin’.” I had no fucking clue. Not sure what Lil wants me to do with this tidbit of information.
“Okay?” Her eyes widen and she glares.
She throws her hands in the air and sighs dramatically, “Yeah, okay. So what are you going to do for her?” She asks me, lookin’ all expectant and shit.
“When’s her birthday? Today?” Sighing again, she shakes her head and grumbles at me. Sis is good at making the brothers feel like complete fuckin’ assholes sometimes.
“No. It’s in two days, and you’re going to do something nice for her.”
Lil begins to fill my head with crazy shit, like a hot air balloon ride. She fuckin’ kidding me? First off, that’s never happening. I’ve got two fucking days, not thirty to plan something like that. Second, isn’t that like a proposal kinda thing? I’m never going there.
She threw out a candlelit dinner with a band. A band? Where the fuck do bitches get this kind of shit? It’s all those fuckin princess movies, that’s where. Bitches and their exaggerated ideas of romantic grandeur. Lil clearly doesn’t realize she lives with a bunch of excessive drinking, bad-mouthed, criminal bikers. Her heads filled with delusional knight in shining armor shit.
“The fuck? This isn’t Disney Land, Sis.”
The guys aren’t much help either. Gin’s answer is to throw money at her, because his woman loves that shit. Crush got all fuckin’ creepy on me, spittin’ out all kinds of romantic shit. Tiny just shrugged. Sargent just got up and left the second the question left my mouth.
“Take her to a beach and fuck her on a towel.” That was Blade’s solution. According to him, beaches are romantic. I’m going to kill myself.
“Flowers,” Tank grumbles.
“Flowers?” Not the scariest suggestion. I might be able to handle flowers.
“Fuck yeah, flowers. Bitches love flowers.”
I don’t want to do shit, but for Lala, I will. All that sweet deserves something for her birthday. Not sure what it’ll be yet, but I want to give her something. She deserves that. Fuck, she deserves more than I could ever give her, but I’ll try, or at least die trying.
Lala
Rough fingers trail a line up and down my arm, leaving a wake of goose bumps behind. We’ve been like this for a while now. The only reason I know he’s awake is because his hand hasn’t stopped.
“Babe?” His voice deep and scratchy.
“Hmm?” I’m too tired and comfortable for words.
“Headin’ out for a few days in the mornin’?” My heart hits my ribs and anxiety begins to run rampant through my chest. He’s leaving? I know I shouldn’t panic at the idea, but I do. These past few weeks he’s been with me every day, a constant source of dependability.