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Dating wasn’t really my thing. I never fucked and stayed. Hell, I never even comforted anyone until Bree. I didn’t know what compassion, love, or softness was. Death, rage, and fury were all I knew. She lit a spark in my cold heart-stirring flames not stirred since my mother had died.
“See, I can do shit without a gun.” I smirked, reaching for my glass of water. We were eating at a simple diner here in town. The place reminded me of one of those towns you would see in movies. Everyone had immaculate lawns, two and half kids, and a wraparound fence in the back yard. The crime rate was low, and everyone played a part in the community.
This wasn’t my kind of scene. Hell, being normal wasn’t my kind of fucking thing at all. It felt strange, but at the same time, it felt welcoming.
“Lies…” She hissed out, taking the straw of her drink in between her teeth. “I bet you have your gun right in your back. I bet you keep looking around the room to see who the first person will be to get shot if shit goes wrong, and I bet, more than anything, being this domesticated is fucking with your head.”
Did I really have it written all over my face or was she just starting to know me for who I was?
“Dear Bree,” I growled reaching across the table to grip her chin, “you know far more than anyone.” Had I known taking her from that shabby farmhouse months prior would cost me everything, would I have done it? Even for love? Probably not. Life had a fucked up way of twisting things, even when we didn’t want something to happen.
Letting the straw slip from her mouth, she bit her bottom lip, which in turn caused my cock to swell. She made me want to fuck her a hundred different ways.
“Your double bacon cheeseburger…” the waitress said, a slight annoyance to her tone as she slid Bree’s plate in front of her.
“And an omelet for you…” She all but shoved the plate in front of me. Anger simmered deep within me. What was this bitch’s problem, and why did she feel the need to all but shove my food at me?
“Excuse me, but is there a problem?” I growled pushing the plate forward. I caught Bree’s eyes as apprehension showed in them. She didn’t want a blowout, and neither did I, but no one gets away with treating my girl or me like shit.
“Problem….” Was she pondering if there was a problem or not? She had five fucking seconds to tell me if there was, and what it was?
“Yeah, you know like, an issue. There isn’t a damn reason to shove shit at me. There is most definitely no reason to take that tone with my woman, and if you care about your job in the least bit, you’ll take the high fucking road.”
“Zerro…” Bree said quietly…
“No. It’s not okay to be disrespectful.”
“Honey, you need to get your dog on a fucking leash.” The waitress, whose name I didn’t get, walked away.
“Bitch…” I was this close to reaching for my fucking gun and placing a bullet in her head. Guess Pleasant Fucking Villes crime rate would go up to one with me around.
“You need to relax, Zerro. This is the real world. There are no Mafia people here. That’s all kind of made for the movies, so while we both have to learn to adjust to shit, you can’t just go around ordering people around and pulling your gun out.” Bree all but scolded me as if I were a child.
“I didn’t pull my gun out,” I said slipping a piece of the omelet into my mouth. It didn’t taste like my cook’s cooking, but then again, not a lot of food did.
Arching an eyebrow, she watched me. “Really, so when I watched your hand slip into your back it wasn’t just to grab your wallet so you could leave a nice tip?” Was she mocking me?
“I will have you know, I can fucking get my gun out whenever I want.”
Snorting, she glared. “You act like I’m taking a piece of your manhood or something?” She was—my gun was the closest thing to my home I had left.
“It’s my gun and if I want to put a bullet in her head, I will.” I took another bite of my food, and then a drink of water, waiting for her to eat her own food.
Shaking her head, she turned her attention to something out the window. “And to think I actually thought maybe you were changing. Thinking maybe you had left behind the murderous person I had met months ago.”
Desperately, I wanted to tell her I had—I had let the person go I once was when I shot John, but the truth was I hadn’t. I had covered him up. I had pushed a part of me to the bottom… but there was no changing that part of me. It would always be there.
Leaning in, to the point where I was leaning onto the table, I said, “If you thought that part of me was gone, you’re naïve. I was born into this life, Bree. I will never allow that part of me to go away. It’s been ingrained into me since the start of life. If I had a choice, believe me when I say I would’ve made one.”
I could all but feel the sadness seep into both of us. There was an ocean forming between us. I thought I had actually saved her, brought her out of the dark, but maybe it was me who was still keeping her in the dark. Maybe I was what was hurting her the most.
“Everyone has a choice, Zerro. Everyone has a chance to change things for the better. Your past doesn’t define you and without a future path outlined, you’re free to do whatever you want.”
What was she saying? I was growing angry from simple confusion. Her words were always littered with riddles. Some I understood and others, I didn’t.
