Tragedy On Silverdale Road

The Finger

I haven't smoked in two weeks. I haven't had a drink in two weeks. But I've had plenty of sex. Plenty unprotected sex. I've forgotten how good sex is when you're actually in the mood.

"Fuck. If you aren't pregnant yet I don't know what else I can do." Bryson hasn't left my bed in a solid twenty four hours. He's been ridden more times in the last day than he's ever in his life.

"Why do you want me pregnant so badly?" I don't think before I ask the question, thus causing an awkward tension between the two of us.

"Because we're supposed to have a baby. We're supposed to be married. I'm just speeding things along to make up for what we've missed."

"But you decided to leave--."

"Shut the fuck up and go piss because I know you have to." He's right, I do have to pee.

➖✖➖

"You're happy."

"Fuck off, Syl."

"You're beyond happy: you're glowing!" Sylvia strolls beside me on our lunch date to Twon's tavern. Her son is ahead of us, meeting a date outside the tavern and bar. Twon's place has really taken off.

I ignore the older woman for the sake of my sanity. So what if I've gotten a skip in my step or if I decline shits because Bryson told me to. Maybe I'm trying to clean myself up. I'm young, I can't lead a life of drugs forever.

Who am I kidding, Bryson is my whole life.

The tavern is more packed than a gay southern man's asshole. It stinks of cheap alcohol and equally cheap sex. Viper and his old lady, Harley, speak animatedly to a very, very bored Ander. Without a goodbye to Sylvia I take a seat next to my newest friend. His eyes light up at the sight of me. For some reason I grip his hand.

"Violet, what a pleasure." Viper and I get along very well, too well for Bryson's liking. "Where's your baby daddy?"

"He isn't my baby daddy."

"That's right, he's your fiancé," Ander butts in, his classic cheeky smile shining through. His arm drapes over my shoulders. "They're very much in love."

Love. An interesting concept. I felt it once and it never went away. Bryson Jones brings the animal out of me, only cracking my tough exterior slowly. Soon I'll be as vulnerable as a new born sea turtle. All because I fell in love six years ago. Six fucking years ago. More than half a decade ago. Like I said, interesting.

"Damn straight." I don't have to turn to know it's the bald headed bitch that keeps me awake at night. "Can I speak with Midnight, please?"

Ander decides to speak up, again. "Why'd you call her that?"

Before Bryson goes off on this lighthearted man I stand up, almost immediately nauseous. "Midnight Violet is my government name. But I go by Violet, and keep it that way, Alexander."

Bry pulls me away from the scene, and I can't help but notice his smooth head is shiner than normal. Our fingers involuntarily entwine, only making my heart skip a beat. It's times like this I miss my shits, they made me forget I had feelings. Feelings are such a drag.

We find ourselves in the back of the tavern where, technically, only Antwon is allowed. The darkened lighting only makes Bryson look twleve times more attractive. It even makes his scruff sexier. God bless. I haven't been so turned on in almost. . . twenty four hours. Fuck I've missed my bald man.

"Midnight." Uh oh, he sounds mad.

"What."

"Aye, don't get snappy with me." That little wrinkle between his eyebrows comes to play as his entire face scowls down at me. Is that supposed to scare me?

My eyes roll. "What do you need, Bryson? Another fuck?"

In a split second I'm backed against the wall, his hands on either side of my head, his eyes seeming to glow. And I'm wet. Fuck. "I don't ever fuck you. What I do to you is pure, fucking, love." His erection presses into my stomach. "Only you turn me on when I'm angry. God damnit, I came down here to talk."

"Talk? About what?"

"The wedding. It needs to happen soon."

"Don't rush me. I don't even have a fucking ring, I am not getting married without a fucking ring."

Bryson growls. The deep, primal growl that can only come straight from the gut. "I'll get you the rings. I need you to cooperate and just listen for once."

"No, you, listen," I snarl in his handsome face, "I'll marry you when you explain to me why you left me in the first place."

"Don't ask me to do stupid shit."

My laugh is emotionless. Dry. Completely removed. "Stupid? That's a stupid request? What's stupid is this. We couldn't work five years ago so why would we work now." I slip away from him and nearly sprint down the hall.  I can hear his boots right behind me as soon as I meet the cool air.

And that's when it happens.

The tears fall. Those damn, pesky tears.

"Midnight?" I keep going, walking now because that damn nausea is back. "Midnight Violet?" I try to brush him off, he's just too much. "Kitten, please?"

"Stop!" I screech. I probably woke half the town. "Shut the hell up." I'm heaving. We're chest to chest, our breathes mix and mingle in the cool night air. "I can't handle everything. I can't fucking deal with every damn feeling I have when you come around. I want to just give you the finger whenever I think of you. Don't you get it? I never stopped loving you. Not once. Not when I had another man's cöck in my mouth, not when I would take drink after drink, not even when I would pass out. All my dreams, for five goddamn years, were about you. When you'd come back. When I'd kiss you. Don't you get it? I depend so fucking much on you I get physically sick. You left me alone! Alone, Bryson. All by myself. With a baby, which I fucking lost, and nowhere to turn. I drank and smoked and partied, for what? A meaningless one night stand? I'm not going to take it anymore. Fuck feelings. Fuck how you make me feel."

He isn't speechless for long. His deep voice drifts around me. "That's all? That's all you have to say? I know what I did, and I came back to fix it all." I push him away, wiping stray tears away. "You aren't the only one that suffered, Kitten. I fucked around so much Viper had to physically pull me away from disease ridden whores. I had no reason to leave you besides the fact I was selfish. So damn selfish. I would think with my dïck and not my brain. I was twenty with a serious girlfriend of what felt like forever and when I saw that the gang had an opening I just jumped for it. I wasn't thinking, I just did. Years I wanted to come back, baby, I missed you so much. I love you."

I turn my head, gazing at the ground to hide my true emotions from the man. A rush of regret joins my depression. I want to pull him into my arms, kiss his pain away and tell him everything will be okay. But I can't. I can't just forget everything that's happened.

"Kitten, look at me." I shake my head. His fingers dance under my chin causing a burst of giggling. "Still as ticklish as ever." I pout slightly as our eyes reconnect. His blue and mine green. Oh how I've missed loving him.

"Do you think we'll be okay?" I ask the question before I can even think about it.

Bryson drops to one knee and suddenly I'm aware of the crowd gathered around us. I step back, shocked. A big fucking rock is slid onto my hand. Bryson intertwines his hand with mine as he stands back on two feet. "We'll be just fine." Our lips meet in a sizzling kiss.