She gives me a grin as if she’s happy over the fact. “He’s mad about my outfit.”
That man is terrifying. I’m not sure I’d want to be at the end of his temper. But Shayna is one tough girl. A byproduct of growing up in a girls’ home. She’s been through so much, but instead of letting it take her down, she wears her past as a badge of courage and strength. I just wish I had an ounce of that strength.
Right now, there’s a headache of regret starting to creep in, and it’s pounding harder and harder. If only I hadn’t made my stupid comment.
11
Skully
She didn’t show today. I’ve been waiting and waiting. Staring at that door. Wheeling circles around my room. Spinning myself dizzy with frustration. I know there’s a package for me. Got the confirmation text on its delivery. I think she finally realized what a fuckup I am.
I storm from my room, rolling down the hall to the office. Ripper’s the only one inside.
“Where is she?” I barge in, sounding way too on edge. His head snaps up from what he’s working on, eyes narrowing in on me, and I realize how much I’m revealing in that one question. “She didn’t bring me my package.” My own nerves aren’t even believing that excuse, and neither is my brother.
“It’s Saturday.” A hint of a smirk is formed on his lips. I don’t like it. It feels too vulnerable.
“I have a package. Tracking said it was delivered. She’s always the one who brings them to me. Even on Saturday.” Theonly day I don’t see her is on Sunday, but the mail doesn’t get delivered that day. It’s the longest day of the week. I get up, get my ass dragged to church, and then spend the rest of the day feeling like I’ve been run through an emotional grinder. And since I don’t turn to booze anymore, it’s only made worse.
“If you ask me, I think you miss your girl.”
“Ain’t no one asking. And she’s not my girl. I just want my package.”
He stares at me long and hard, his eyes too curious. Finally, he gets off his ass and rises from his desk. He retrieves my box from the corner and brings it over.
“You’ve been ordering a lot of shit lately.”
It sounds like an accusation.
“I’ve been getting supplies to do your tattoo. And ordered some more art supplies. Clothes, and shit, too.” I haven’t bought clothes in years. Suddenly, I’m trying to make myself look presentable.
He hands the thing over. “You know, if you want her, all you have to do is ask her to be yours. You don’t have to make excuses for seeing her.”
“I’m not trying to make excuses. Not trying to make her mine either.” She deserves better.
“You can keep sayin’ that, Skully, but I don’t even think you believe your own bullshit. That girl is your heart and soul, man. We all knew it that very first day you showed up with her. And we know it now. At some point, maybe you’ll take your head out of your ass and come to terms with the truth. Admit that you want her.”
“Ihavecome to terms with the truth,” I snap. I’m faced with the truth from the moment I wake up in a sweat to the moment I drag my ass off this chair and crawl into bed. “That girl deserves a man, Ripper, not some crippled shit who’s bound to a chair.”
“Goddamnit, Skully.” He heaves a sigh, the frustration locking his shoulders up tight. “When are you going to see it? You may have lost your legs that night, but you didn’t fucking lose your life. The only reason you’re bound to that chair is because your ass won’t get up and do something about it. You can go to a damn doctor and be walking again. But legs or no legs, you’re still the same man I’ve always known. That hasn’t fucking changed.”
He can say that all he wants, but I don’t feel the same.
“I’ve changed in here.” I point to my head. It’s all fucked up inside. Dark and full of loss and suffering.
His eyes loosen around the edges, and he breathes out another sigh. “Let me ask you something. Would you take a bullet for me?” He should already know the answer to that question.
“Always. For any of my brothers.” I’d rather go to the grave than lose another friend. Besides, the weakest link should always be the sacrifice.
“That’s who you are, Skull. You may be dealin’ with shit. But you’re still the man who would give his life. A man who’s loyal, honest, and hardworking. I know you’re bleeding guilt over that night. We all fucking are. But It’s like you’ve given up. Like you’ve forgotten who you are.”
It’s not that I’ve forgotten. I remember every detail of the man I was. It’s that I don’t think that man will ever exist again. Carefree, strong, living life to the fullest. Going after bad men, fixing cars, fucking my girl up against a wall.
“Fuck, I know shit ain’t easy for you,” he states, “and I know it’s a fucking steep mountain ahead, but the only one holding you back from having the life you want is you. If you want to walk again, you’ll walk. If you want to ride your damn bike, you’ll fucking ride. And if you want a future with that girl, she’s yours for the taking. All you’ve got to do is start fighting. And we’ll beright there by your side, fighting with you. The choice is yours, Skull. You just have to decide you want it.”
I just have to decide I want it.
What I want is to be whole again. I want to be able to lay naked with my woman and not be half of a man. I want to stop waking up haunted by all the fucking eyes. Stop reliving that fucking night. I want to stop feeling so damn lost. So damn useless.
