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Benji
It’s a sickness. I know it is. Not that I care because, fuck, right now I’m embracing it.
After killing Sherri and leaving the last person I should trust to deal with her, I came home to find Lacey gone and a fucking hole in the brick of crystal meth that I left her alone with. To say the last fourteen days have been hellish is an understatement. She refuses to answer my calls or texts about her relapse, so I’ve resorted to stalking her.
Following her around on a daily basis has become my new addiction. I wake early, shower, and then drive to her house. So far, she’s only gone to her parents, the grocery store, and on one occasion, I think she had a job interview at an old folk’s home because she spent an hour there before leaving, looking upset.
If it wasn’t for Maddi and JJ’s constant nagging to give Lacey some space, I would’ve knocked down her fucking front door and made her talk to me by now. Why Maddi’s suddenly on her side, I haven’t a fucking clue. The last time they were together, she punched her in the face—now they’re friends again and have even dragged JJ into their meddlesome coven.
Goddamn women and their never-ending rollercoaster ride of emotions.
The sound of Lacey’s garage door screeching as it opens pulls me from my thoughts of crazy-ass women and the fact that I’ll never, ever fucking understand them.
Normally, I park in full view of her house, hoping that seeing me might make her stop and talk, but fear of copping another bloody lecture from Maddi, made me hide my car out of sight today. Lacey speeds off in her little pink hatchback, determination written on her pretty face. She looks oblivious to her surroundings, so I take the opportunity to pull out of my hiding spot and tail her. Expecting another trip to her parents’ house, I’m stunned when she pulls onto the motorway and heads for one of the seedier areas of Brisbane. My gut cramps, tightening like I’ve just run a new PB for the five K when I cotton on to where she’s going.
The Mavericks Clubhouse.
Relief takes hold after she drives past their dingy-looking setup and continues down the road. It’s short-lived when she comes to a sudden stop and manoeuvres her car into the skinny driveway that leads to Cam’s unkempt house. I can’t follow her down the track without her seeing me, so I park haphazardly on the curb and jog after her, as fast as my knee will let me, through the overgrown garden.
Coming to a skidding stop when I almost run into her car, I crouch down behind it. With my heart trying to beat out of my chest, I watch through disbelieving eyes as Lacey gracefully slips from the driver’s seat of her car carrying an oversized handbag and makes her way over to Cam. He’s waiting in the doorway of his home, wearing only a pair of jeans that hang low on his hips, and a wide grin of welcome on his fucking face.
“Lacey, baby. I’ve been looking forward to today,” he greets her, stepping onto the front porch.
“So have I,” the woman I’ve fallen for replies without hesitation. When she stops in front of him, Cam sweeps her into a bear hug. He lifts her off the ground, swinging her in a circle once, before putting her back on her feet.
Lacey slaps his bare chest but doesn’t say anything about him touching her. It’s killing me to stay hidden—to keep quiet—when all I want to do is force her into her car and tear strips off her for being here.
“Let’s go make me some fucking money,” Cam laughs. The sound makes me want to take a running jump at him and knock him on his ass. “Don’t look so stressed. It’s going to be fun.”
Lacey shakes her head and replies with an edge to her voice. “You’re getting a bit ahead of yourself.”
She thrusts the huge bag she’s carrying in his direction, hitting him in the chest with it. The fleeting look of surprise that crosses Cam’s face alleviates some of my growing suspicions.
“We’ll see, baby,” he smirks at her. My hands curl into fists when he winks at Lacey, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop from revealing myself. “What’s lover boy had to say about our little situation? Bet it’s not sitting well knowing that a fucking O’Brien’s playing second fiddle, or should I say second dick, to a Maverick?”
“He’s not your concern, Cam. He doesn’t need to know anything.”
No fucking way. Blood rushes to my head, making it pound. I can’t believe my fucking ears. I was worried this meeting was about drugs, not a sneaky fuck behind my back.
My thoughts spin. I can’t make head nor tail of my feelings.
I want to storm over there and kiss the living daylights out of her—prove that I’m the man for her, not Cam.
I want to run my fist through Cam’s ugly face for daring to think he can touch my woman.
Most of all, I want to go back to this morning and choose to stay home like Maddi begged me. Then I’d have no idea what Lacey’s doing, and I wouldn’t be standing here feeling like my heart’s been ripped out of my chest.
The slamming of the front door takes away my opportunity to confront them. Looking at the empty porch, I push down the hurt I’m feeling, and concentrate on stoking my anger.
Did I honestly think I deserved a happy ending with Lacey? I’m the fuck-up of my family, the one who gets everyone hurt, as if God’s going to grant me my wish? I was a fucking idiot for handing my heart to her anyway. We got together through necessity, to fill the hole we were both stuck in; it’s on my head that I was stupid to make it into something deeper. She’s never said a word about exclusivity...or love.
I’m a fucking fool.
Fury. At Lacey. At Cam. At myself. Hell, at the fucking universe in its entirety, consumes me. Embracing it, I stand, tall and strong, refusing to be broken.
Fuck feeling.
Fuck love.
Fuck everything.
Lashing out, I kick the closest mirror off Lacey’s car and make my way back to my vehicle. Part of me wants to kick down the door to the house instead of walking away, but my pride won’t let me. I refuse to chase a woman who doesn’t want me. There’s plenty more where she came from. The thought is hollow and does little to settle my feeling of impotency ... or the rage pulsing in every inch of my body. The rage that’s quickly morphing into something bigger, something stronger, something reminiscent of hatred.
Dad’s words about letting go of the hatred return unbidden to my mind. I take a split second to examine his sentiment, finally grasping what he meant. This is going to eat me alive if I let it.
I have a decision to make. Do I continue on my current path of seeking redemption for my fuck-ups and the hurt I’ve caused? Or do I let what Lacey’s done to me fester into a hurt that takes on a life of its own and colours everything in my life for eternity?
Like Dad did with Mom’s death...
