Going to Transform yesterday and basically bullying Riley into cutting my hair hadn’t been the smartest move, but I couldn’t think of another way right now to be in her presence. Besides, she saw I desperately needed a haircut, so it wasn’t like I made up a lame excuse to see her. And the fact she didn’t kick me out of the salon was a good sign, even though she really didn’t talk to me too much.
I figured she’d be going to Roman’s party, so I only had a short window to figure out my next move. Maybe there was a way I’d be able to get her alone at Ryder and Braylen’s house, although the chances of that happening would be slim because most of the club would be attending. I was persistent, though, so I was sure I’d come up with something.
All mixed up in my head, I grabbed my cell from the bar top and pulled up Riley’s number. I typed out a text but then deleted it, typed another, erasing that one as well. I told her I was sorry, although I hadn’t been specific as to what my apology was for. The times we’d been around each other hadn’t resulted in what I wanted to accomplish, which was getting her to act toward me the way she used to. I was being naïve and hopeful, but I couldn’t just give up. Not now.
Riley had asked me why I was coming around suddenly trying to get her to talk to me, and while I gave her a general excuse of her being on my mind lately, it was more than that.
I’d had a dream a month back, one that felt so real, I’d woken up in a cold sweat. I’d been driving along a dirt path when I spotted a group of people up ahead of me, everyone dressed in black and gathered in a circle. I pulled my bike up behind them and nudged my way through the crowd. I remember feeling a gut-wrenching despair, like whatever these people were hiding was meant to destroy me. When I finally busted through, I saw an open coffin. I closed my eyes as I moved toward it, and when I pried my lids open, I saw Riley inside of it, her eyes open and watching me. She wasn’t dead, yet she was. No one around me could see her eyes move as she continued to watch only me. She didn’t say anything, but I felt her calmness, almost like she was telling me she forgave me… for killing her.
It was the oddest dream I’d ever had, and it continued to terrify me. I shuddered even thinking about it in the light of day.
The very next day, I started to concoct some sort of plan to get back into Riley’s life. At first, I told myself that if being friends with her was all that ever occurred, I’d be content with that, but I’d been lying to myself. I would never be truly happy until she was mine.
And if she somehow agreed to be with me again, I’d tell everyone about us, including Stone.
Consequences be damned.
Typing out another text, I hit send that time.
Me: Thanks for cutting my hair
Placing my phone on top of the bar, I didn’t take my eyes off it, waiting impatiently for her to reply, which she did ten minutes later.
Riley: No prob
That was it. I remembered a time she would send me the lengthiest texts, so long I had to hit view all to see everything she wrote. But what did I expect? For her to go on and on, striking up a random conversation with me when I knew she could barely stand to be around me?
The small win was that she texted back and that’s what I focused on.
“Hey.” Jagger sat down next to me, tapping the top of the bar for Trigger to get him a beer. We tried relieving Trigger of his duties one time, not wanting to constantly depend on him to serve us, but it didn’t work out so well. Several of us went overboard, got rip-roaring drunk and drank a hefty amount of the alcohol stored behind the bar. I thought Trigger was going to shoot every one of us. We never helped ourselves again.
“How’s it goin’?” I asked, jerking my chin in his direction.
Jagger was a cool guy, one of the more mellow of the group. It was because of him and his wife, Kena, that most of us kids had learned sign language. From what I’d been told, she’d contracted a viral infection when she was a baby, and it ended up damaging the nerves in her larynx. She could hear just fine but had never spoken a word in her life. She communicated with people through sign language or by text or just writing something down, depending on who she was talking to. Harrison and Evan grew up knowing sign language, so to them, and to us, Kena was, well… just Kena. No one viewed her inability to speak as a hinderance or an inconvenience.
“No complaints.” He took a swig of his beer before turning toward me, resting his arm on the bar. “You okay? You look like you got something on your mind.” I wanted to talk to someone about what was going on with Riley, but I had to keep that shit to myself, for now.
“Just thinkin’ about work. Nothing fun.” My smile fell flat and I prayed he didn’t call me on my bullshit. He didn’t, focusing on his phone more than our conversation. After replying to a text, he took another gulp of his drink and slid the bottle away from him.
“You up to go tonight?” he asked, barely paying me attention before answering another message.
“Yeah. I just wish they’d stop dickin’ around with Linc’s schedule. He wasn’t supposed to fight until tomorrow.”
“I hear ya. It’s why I’m goin’ back and forth with Kena. She has to work late at the restaurant again, Harrison needs a ride for his shift and I gotta meet with Linc soon for a session before the fight.”
When Kena’s father passed away five years ago, she had to take on additional duties in order to help her mom out with their family restaurant. Kena typically took care of the books but also waited tables and cooked when they were short-staffed. Both their boys had part-time jobs there, so that was a help. Besides, if the place lasted, it’d be passed down to them one day.
“Anything I can do?”
“Nah, but thanks.” Jagger typed out another message, tossed his cell on top of the bar and ran his fingers through his dark blond hair. “Never ends,” he mumbled before hopping off his stool and walking away, leaving me alone again to contemplate how to handle the situation with Riley.