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Dash
Ineed a break. Need to get away. Telling Peppermint it was over between us has fucked with my head. I am consumed with thoughts of her. I dream about her. Which is exactly why I volunteered to head down to Florida and help the Harlots chapter there with a security request. I doubt they really needed any extra help, but Crucifix sent the request to Mason from Brooklyn. He has a lot going on with his wedding coming up in a few months. Mason assured him we’d help.
So, I got the weekend away and made a few new friends. One of the Harlots there, Prancer, thought it was hilarious I have a damn reindeer nickname like she and her brother, Blitz. Of course, she got a kick out of the fact that my nickname came from me fucking fast — dashing in and out like a damn rabbit. That revelation got me a few offers for a demonstration, and I wanted to do it. Fuck, I wanted to bury myself in a willing pussy and forget about Peppermint. But I couldn’t.
Unfortunately, the time away did nothing to tamper my desire for her. I told her we were done. Acted like it didn’t fucking matter a bit to me. That she didn’t matter a fucking bit. I was honest with her. She isn’t the one who screwed up. I did. That was all on me.
I wanted more. So much so, one of my brothers accused me of being in love. How can I keep things on a strictly physical level if I’m behaving like a lovesick teenager? It’s all the more reason for her to have an issue with our age difference. I can’t even handle a mature relationship.
“Anything happen while I was gone?” I ask Munsey, and he shrugs.
“Nope. Still watching the hotel. Still no one coming and going except the officer.”
“Anything else?”
“Nah.”
I can’t come right out and ask if Peppermint has been around. Asshole already teased me enough. Besides, it’s none of my damn business. For all I know, she’s doing more than holding hands with that prick now.
“Good. I’m going for a ride. Holler if you need me.”
Truth is, I hadn’t planned on going to see my mom. Chances are, my dad is there, and I definitely don’t want to see him. But I can’t keep ignoring her. My weekly trips have been nonexistent since Jesse told me she was talking to dad again. She’s called and texted, and I ignored her, much the same way I did Peppermint.
When I pull up at the house — the one I fucking pay for — her car is the only one in the drive. I turn off my bike and climb off, putting my helmet on the seat. I cross the lawn and knock on her door. It only takes her a few seconds to open it.
“Jameson!” she squeals in delight, wrapping me in a hug. “It’s about time you came by.”
“Yeah? Well, I figured you’ve had plenty of company.”
“Don’t do that,” she warns, leaning back. “Don’t make snide remarks when you have no idea what’s going on.”
“You think I don’t know what’s going on? You are letting that toxic man back into your life! What about his wife? His kids?”
She shakes her head, walking inside, and I follow. “His kids are adults now, Jameson. And his wife is dying.”
“Oh, so that makes this okay? She’s dying so he can just waltz back in and start fucking you all over again?”
The slap she delivers draws blood to my bottom lip, my cheek stinging. She gasps at what she’s done, cupping my face in her hands.
“You don’t know him the way I do.”
“You’re right, Mom. I don’t.”
With that, I turn and walk out. I can’t stand there and listen to her defend him. I hate him. Hate everything about him. I hate myself because I’m exactly like him. I ran from the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
