Page 88 of Mommy

Of course Abigail is not a ‘friend’. Because she isn’t a fucking anything.

Yes, she flirts with me. But not because she is interested in me, but just because she’s a fucking hazard to society.

She flirts with Ez too.

Especially when Rose is there.

At this point I think she’s doing it, simply because it’s pissing the both of us off and she enjoys seeing it happen.

Should I have said that to Ivory? Probably. But in that moment, all I had felt was annoyance. Not at her, but at the fact that Abigail managed to get into Ivy’s head. As if it isn’t bad enough that she’s making my work a living hell, now she’s gone and turned my personal life upside down? That’s what’s really pissing me off.

I take the shortcut to the highway, my anger pushing the bike to go faster before we even reach the perfect asphalt. And then, I really push.

My hands white knuckle the throttle through the gloves and the ZX14R howls beneath me like an angry wolf.

I don’t know what woke my anger, that Ivory got jealous or that she saw Abigail.

Why did she have to see Abigail?

Out of all the people I could’ve walked into, why her?

And why the fuck did I not tell Ivory that I’m not interested in Abigail?

I’m not interested in her now or ever.

I wouldn’t touch that girl with a 10 foot pole.

The mere thought of her being close to me makes my skin itch.

My Kawasaki roars again, the engine catapulting me forward and past a truck that’s been pulling out of its lane. The driver flashes their headlights at me, but I don’t give a flying fuck. If they would’ve used their fucking mirror before pulling out, they would’ve seen me coming.

Why didn’t I just tell Ivy?

I don’t have an answer to my question, only regrets that stare at me as if I’m the bad guy here.

“Once you get used to being a second choice…”

She’s not a fucking second choice, least of all next to Abigail. I want her to know that, but I’m not sure it’s too late now to tell her. I’m not too far from home yet, but I don’t feel ready to go back and look at the mess I’ve made. I know she cried after I left.

The tears were already in her eyes, the pain already a lump in her throat when she smiled as if everything was fine.

As if it was fine that she felt like she’s never a first choice when I know that couldn’t be further from the truth.

The moment I locked eyes with her baby blues, the damage was done. I couldn’t have chosen anything but her no matter how hard I would’ve tried. Not that I’m even thinking about trying anymore.

I only drive down to the rest stop to check my phone and send a text to Ivory. I want her to know that I’ll be coming home, and I’ll fix this. And that I don’t. Fucking. Care. About Abigail.

It’s a coincidence I see the man walk back from the bench as I pull into the parking lot next to his red opel corsa.

The man looks at me spooked, but I can’t blame him. With the all black outfit and motorbike and the white skull mask shining through under the helmet, most people start fidgeting around me.

Or blushing.

I flip my visor up.

My thoughts are already halfway back with Ivory as I pull my phone out, when movement catches my eye.

There, in the shadows of the bench and table. A figure moves. I squint and my jaw hardens when I make out the shape of an animal crouching low.