Vicious Cycle

by Katie Ashley

  I chose choice B for both of our sakes. I could only imagine that sober Alex would be mortified at her behavior. Striding up to the bar, I pushed some of the guys out of my way. When I saw Rev, I smacked him on the back of the head.

  “Jesus, man, what’s your problem?” he shouted over the music and singing.

  Motioning to Alex, I said, “I thought I told you to watch her.”

  Rev grinned. “I am watching her.”

  “Yeah, for the record, her dancing on top of the bar was not what I had in mind.”

  “Come on, Deacon. She’s just cutting loose and having some innocent fun.”

  At my “you gotta be shitting me” look, Rev said, “She’s just dancing. If she had started trying to strip, I would’ve stopped her. As far as our brothers go, you can be damn sure that no one touched a hair on her head on my watch … well, maybe no one but Kim.”

  At that moment, Alex backed her ass up to Kim and ground against her. “Sweet Jesus,” I grunted while the men around me shouted their approval. When Alex finally met my gaze, I crooked my finger at her. With the grace of a supermodel on a runway, she walked down the length of the bar to me. The moment she was within my grasp, I motioned her down to where I could whisper in her ear. When she did, I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down.

  My brothers booed and hissed at my move. “Shut the fuck up!” I shouted as I put Alex on her feet.

  “No. I don’t want to stop dancing.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “I’m thirsty,” she absentmindedly announced. One of our out-of-town members, Tony, handed her a beer. “Thank you,” she replied sweetly. She then proceeded to down the thing in a series of big gulps and then sucked down another one that was placed in her eager hands.

  “I don’t think that was a good idea.” Now that she was off the bar, she began to sway a little. Grabbing her shoulders, I steadied her. “Okay, I think it’s officially time for you to go to bed.”

  Alex swatted my hands away from her. “Don’t be a party pooper,” she slurred. Glancing over her shoulder, she cried, “More shots!”

  While Rev chuckled at her enthusiasm, a song with a fast beat came on the jukebox, and Alex scrambled to climb up on the bar again. “Get down.”

  “But I wanna dance again.”

  After her beer, she could barely walk, least of all dance. When I tightened my arms around her waist, she twisted around and then shoved me as hard as a drunk girl her size could. I didn’t budge, so she sent a stinging smack across my face. “Get off me!”

  “I do that, and you’re going to end up on the floor.”

  Jerking her chin up at me, she shrieked, “You’re an asshole!”

  “And you’re a mean little drunk,” I mused, my cheek still stinging.

  Alex’s brows furrowed. “Am I really a mean drunk?”

  “Considering you just slapped me, I would have to say yes.”

  She gasped. “Oh my God. I’m a horrible person.”

  “And a mean drunk,” I teased. When her chin trembled, I groaned. “Now, don’t go making yourself a ‘crying drunk,’ too,” I warned.

  After sniffling, she said, “I’m sorry I slapped you, Deacon.”

  “It’s okay. I’m man enough to take it.”

  When she peered up at me, she frowned. Closing her eyes, she shook her head. After she opened them again, she looked like she was staring past me. “You two don’t hate me, do you?”

  I glanced left and right. There was only Alex and me standing there. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Her finger waved between me and the empty spot beside me. “You and him.”

  “Jesus, now you’re seeing double?”

  She hiccupped. “Maybe.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Okay, you’re really going to bed now.” Taking her by the arm, I started leading her toward the bedrooms.

  “Good night, Alex!” came a chorus of male voices.

  “’Night, boys!” she called over her shoulder.

  As we started down the hall, she gazed up at me. “You know, I really like your boyfriends … I mean brothers. Bikers are pretty cool.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” I mused.

  When we got inside my clubhouse room, Alex gazed around. “I was expecting something different.”

  “Like what?”

  “Lots of black leather, some fur furniture, and lots of mirrors.”

  I laughed. “Well, there’s that one,” I said, motioning to the ceiling.

  “Oh,” she murmured, gazing at our reflection.

  “I can’t take the credit for putting it up. Whoever had it before me must’ve liked mirrors.”

  Alex brought her gaze to mine again. “But you didn’t take it down?”

  “Nah. It’s pretty cool sometimes.”

  “Yuck.”

  “Don’t knock it till you try it, babe.”

  She shot me a disgusted look before stumbling over to the bed. When she started to face-plant on the mattress, I grabbed her arm. “Wait a minute.” With my other arm, I pulled down the spread and sheets. “Get under the covers.”

  She snorted. “Yes, Daddy.”

  Rolling my eyes, I replied, “Don’t call me that.”

  In a singsong voice, she asked, “Are you gonna read me a bedtime story, too?”

  “No, I’m not. I’m going to hope and pray your drunken ass finally passes out, because you’re driving me crazy.” Her response was to stick her tongue out at me. “Now you’re also an immature drunk.”

  “Ugh, it’s hot,” she whined, kicking off the covers.

  “If you can wait a damn minute, I’ll turn on the fan.” When I turned back around from hitting the switch, I sucked in a harsh breath at the sight of Alex ripping off her shirt. The white lacy bra was about the sexiest thing I’d seen in a long fucking time. It may not have been skimpy, but just seeing the outline of Alex’s pink nipples beneath the lacy shit made my mouth run dry.

  But she wasn’t through tormenting me. Oh no. She had to rip off her jeans next to reveal white boy shorts. I licked my lips, trying hard to hold myself back from ripping them off of her and burying my face between her legs.

  With my dick pounding against my zipper, I knew I needed to get the fuck out of there. If I didn’t, I was going to do something I would regret—something I never, ever did, which was fuck a seriously drunk girl. When I turned to go, she grabbed onto my arm, pulling me to the bed. “Noooo, don’t leave.”

  “Give me a fucking break, Alex. You can sleep it off by yourself.”

  She giggled. “I promise not to try to take advantage of you.”

  “That ain’t it.” No, I would be the one defiling her in a hundred different ways.

  Her amusement faded. Staring up at me with those big brown eyes, she asked, “Don’t you want to stay with me?”

  “You wouldn’t ask me that question if you were sober.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because you would know that I’m sure as hell not the type of man who does what a woman asks.”

  “Even if she begs?”

  “I only listen to pleading when I’m fucking.”

  Her nose wrinkled. “You’re a disgusting pig.”

  “Yeah, I am, babe. And don’t forget it.”

  “Would you at least sit on the edge of the bed until I go to sleep?”

  “You’re not giving up, are you?”

  “I promise I won’t tell anyone that you did. You can save face in front of your brothers. Besides, I probably won’t remember this in the morning anyway.”

  I don’t know why I eased down on the side of the bed. But then that small voice of conscience, the one I usually ignored, seemed to overrule any idea about telling Alex no. Every time Alex got remotely near me, I should bolt in the opposite direction. I’d never met a woman this dangerous—one who made me do shit I didn’t want to do, to consider shit I didn’t want to.

  Stretching my legs out, I pushed myself up in the bed to where I leaned b
ack against the headboard. Although we weren’t touching, I could still feel Alex beside me. She overwhelmed me with her presence in my bed—the smell of her perfume, the fall of her hair on the pillow, the slide of her bare thigh on the comforter.

  Lacey was the last woman I’d just lain in bed with without fucking. When she wasn’t a drunken mess, there was nothing I loved more than to spoon against her. Sure, it usually led to a hard-on and screwing, but just the soft feel of her body did something to me—it calmed me. I was starting to feel the same way with Alex.

  I don’t know how long we lay there. Alex was so quiet I thought she had fallen asleep. But then she shifted in the bed. Propping her head on her elbow, she gazed up at me. “Tell me something about yourself—something you’ve never told anyone else.”

  Scowling down at her, I replied, “You can get the fuck out of here if you think I’m going to do that.”

  “Why not?”

  I laced my fingers behind my head. “Because that ain’t me, babe. That ain’t who I am or who I’ll ever be.”

  “Why are you so afraid to open up to someone?”

  “I’m not,” I growled.

  “Yes, you are.”

  Giving her a hard look, I said, “If you don’t stop the emotional bullshit, I’m out of here. I swear you’re the most lucid drunk I’ve ever seen. Why can’t you be giggling and acting stupid?”

  “After the initial buzz, alcohol usually makes me sharper.”

  “Lucky me.”

  “I just thought we could talk a little. I mean, I’m here every day, but I barely know you.”

  “And I’d like to keep it that way.”

  Both fury and hurt flashed in her dark eyes. “You’re such an asshole.”

  “It’ll do you some good to keep remembering that,” I replied.

  “Fine. You know what? I’ll share something first to establish trust.”

  “You can talk until you’re blue in the face, but it ain’t going to get me to tell you shit.”

  “You wanna know why I decided to become a teacher?”

  “No, I fucking don’t.”

  Ignoring me, Alex said, “When I was sixteen, I got pregnant by my boyfriend.”

  My eyes widened, and I stared open-mouthed at her. That was the last fucking thing I expected to come out of her mouth. “You mean a Goody Two-shoes like you got knocked up?” When she nodded, I couldn’t help but ask, “But I thought you said you didn’t have a kid. You give it up or something?”

  “Or something,” she replied in an agonized whisper.

  The electricity in the room changed. I realized that we were standing on the emotional equivalent of a cliff. If I continued talking to Alex about this, I might as well take her hand and watch the two of us jump off the edge. With the stakes that high, I don’t know why I wanted her to continue the story. Cupping her chin, I tilted her face to look at me. “What happened, Alex?”

  “No one ever knew I was pregnant. I didn’t tell my boyfriend, and I didn’t tell my parents. I wasn’t very far along when I found out.” She shuddered. “I was scared. So fucking scared. From the moment I saw the positive on the pregnancy test, it shattered me emotionally. It felt like I was outside my body, watching myself like I was a stranger. Everything I said or did from that moment on was someone else. I’d always loved babies. I volunteered in the church nursery and babysat for everyone on my street. But in that moment when it came to my own, I couldn’t accept it.” She glanced up at me to gauge my response—her eyes weary like a battle-worn soldier.

  “Did you have an abortion?”

  A mirthless laugh escaped her lips. “Go to a clinic and have someone kill my baby? No. I could have never done something like that.” She shook her head. “I did something far, far worse.” She glanced back at me, her dark eyes almost soulless. “I killed my baby.”

  I sucked in a breath of shock at her admission. “You did what?”

  “It was during rehearsals at my ballet studio. We were practicing lifts with our male partners. There was this really high one where I was practically over his head. And when the idea came crashing down on me, I didn’t even take a moment to try to talk myself out of it. I just acted.” She drew in a ragged breath, her eyes staring past me like she was seeing into the past.

  “You would think it would have to be something pretty momentous to rip a life from your body. But it was so simple. … Just one slip of my leg, one missed position I’d executed flawlessly time and time again. And even as I started to fall, it still wasn’t too late. I could’ve changed my mind, twisted my body to where I could’ve fallen on my back. But no. I made sure I came down as hard as I could on my abdomen.”

  Her eyes closed like she was once again experiencing the physical pain along with her emotional torment. “With the wind knocked out of me, I lay there, gasping and wheezing for breath. Everyone came rushing over, asking me if I was all right. When I could finally breathe again, I felt sick at what I had done, so I excused myself and went home. The rest of the evening I waited for something to happen, but it never did. As I lay in bed that night, I put my hand over my sore abdomen, and then in that instant, the strangest thing happened. The most absolute acceptance and love for my future child pulsed through me. I went to sleep that night ready to tell my parents about the baby first thing in the morning.”

  Tears shimmered in her eyes, and I could tell she was close to losing it. “I woke up in a pool of blood. When I screamed, my parents came running. I pretended that I had screamed in pain because of really bad period cramps. After shooing my embarrassed father out the door, my mother started caring for me like I was a little girl again. She stripped me down like a child and put me into the shower. While I washed the innocent blood of my baby off of me, she changed the sheets. If she suspected anything, she never said. She just called in to work and stayed in bed with me all day, giving me the comfort I so desperately needed.”

  “Jesus,” I muttered, unsure of what the hell to say to such a story. Part of me wanted to get the hell out of there—put as much distance as possible between me and Alex’s pain. Somehow being in that room with her was harder than facing down a thug with a gun.

  “A year later, on the very same day I killed my baby, my parents were killed. Sometimes I think it was a punishment for what I did—a karmic retribution that I threw away what I was given, so I had something else I loved taken from me.” My mouth gaped open that she could honestly believe that. For a minute I wondered if it was the alcohol talking, but then I remembered how sharp it made her.

  “Hey, now, don’t be thinking shit like that.” When Alex didn’t look at me, I took her face in my hands, enjoying the softness of her skin. “Did you hear me? Your parents’ dying had nothing to do with the baby. Bad shit happens all the time.”

  She didn’t acknowledge anything I said. “After they died, I changed my major to education. Not only was it to honor their memory, but I thought if I could love children, I could somehow repent for what I did.”

  “Alex, listen to me, dammit. You were just a scared teenage girl who chose a path that maybe wasn’t the best route. In the long run, what you did wasn’t any different from going to a clinic. The end result would have been the same.”

  “I did it to myself. That makes it worse.”

  “But it’s not.” Gripping her chin, I tipped her head up to look me in the eye. “You didn’t kill your parents. Shit doesn’t work that way. Yeah, you killed your baby, but what you did didn’t start some cosmic chain of events to punish you.”

  When she only sighed in response to my words, I said, “Fine. You want something about me? I’ll give you something. When I was fifteen, I killed my father.”

  While I thought my statement might cause her to run, to cower in fear, or at least gasp in shock, she did none of that. She simply stared at me, waiting for me to continue. “That doesn’t freak you out?”

  “I always knew you were an outlaw, Jesse James,” she said with a small smile.

  “Is th
at right?”

  She gave a slight nod of her head. “But without you telling me the history between the two of you, I can only imagine it was justified.”

  The fucking eerie calm with which she said the words had the same effect as someone dousing me with a bucket of ice-cold water. “How can you of all people sit there and say that I was justified? I murdered my own flesh and blood,” I countered.

  Easing up in the bed, she pinned me with a stare. “You want me to be judge, jury, and executioner? Then don’t just tell me that you murdered him. I may not know you that well, but what I do know tells me you would never kill someone unless you had to.” Jerking her chin at me, she said, “Tell me what he did to you.”

  “I think you’re smart enough to already know.”

  “But I need to hear it from you.” Inching closer to me in the bed, she murmured, “I think you need to say it aloud, too.”

  Panic pricked its way over my skin. I couldn’t help glancing at the door, anxious to make an escape. No one knew about my old man but me and Preach. There was a possibility that Preach had told Case or some of the other guys, but I doubted it.

  “My adopted father, Preacher Man, left his church in the summer. That fall, he came to me one day and asked if I’d ever wanted revenge on my father. I told him of course I did—it was something I thought of each and every day. I was fucking blown away when he told me he’d been able to track my old man down—something even the cops hadn’t been able to do—and if I wanted to, he’d take me to him.”

  “What happened then?” Alex prompted.

  I shrugged almost apathetically. “We drove to Texas, so I could end him.”

  “There’s more to it than that.”

  Flashing her a grin, I replied, “But then if I tell you, I’d have to kill you.”

  “After what I told you, I thought we had established more trust than that.”