“Tell me your name.” He asks again.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say it. But I can’t, the words won’t come.
Instead I break out of his safety and say the only answer I can,
“Beggar, that’s my name.”
I don’t look up. I can’t bare it any more.
The disappointment etched on his beautifully scarred face will no doubt undo me.
“You keep lying to me Beauty. Fuck, how am I supposed to protect you, keep you safe?!” He hits the wall behind me and I jump from the impact.
“When I don’t even know your name.”
His eyes shine with disappointment and hurt, my heart splinting.
“I’m leaving, I’m being deployed and I don’t know if I’m coming back, and I don’t wanna die without even knowing your name. I don’t wanna leave without knowing you safe, please I’m begging you.”
His pleading with me makes it harder to refuse.
Why, why does he want the one thing I can’t give him.
The one thing that will surely shatter his world.
Silent tears leak down my cheek, my throat clogging, it hurts, but nothing like my chest,
“I’m glad I got on the back of your bike that night Zero, and I’m even more glad that you spent the night in my bed. But you gotta let this go, you do protect me. When I’m in your arms I feel most protected, but spilling blood for me is not the answer. I can’t tell you my name because I’m not her anymore, she wasn’t someone I was proud of. She died a long time ago.”
His face hardens, “I just want to know your name. Just one thing.”
He pushes past me.
I want to stop him, run after him. My mind is screaming to me, telling me to go after him, tell him the truth.
But you know what they say, you tell so many lies that eventually they start becoming real.
All those lies become truths, until you don’t know where the lie even started.
I’m dusting up the bar area, all the guys and girls have left apart from Killer, Aron and I.
I wanted to stayed behind with Aron to wait for Kylie Bray. It’s my first time meeting the girl who got the VP wrapped around her pinky. Killer warned me she could be a trouble maker but I’m curious.
More so when I heard Vincent has a thing for her.
Aren’t they related?
“Aron, get your behind downstairs now. We gotta make tracks.” The loud twang accompanying the clapping heels coming from the front door perks me up. No greeting or pleasantries.
She walks in like she owns the place.
Her red snake skin heels are the first thing I see of hers as she turns the corner to where I am.
She startles when she spots me, but no unfamiliar surprise.
Someone must’ve told her about me. I take in her shiny, naked legs and the blue sundress she has on that stops by the top of her thighs.
Her long legs make up the small distance between us already extending her hand to me before she even gets here.
I wipe my own on the denim shorts Chadley said was part of the uniform when we had other Chapters around.
“The name’s Kylie Bray sugar, you lookin’ mighty fine in those cut offs.” My mouth gaps at her bluntness.
The amused twinkle on her stunning face and slight smirk is not something I’ve seen on a girl before.
Which is why I’m standing here speechless.
She has this silent confidence that screams rich and privileged.
Why she’s talking to me? I doubt she’ll give me the time of day if she met me on the street begging for her scraps.
But she’s Killers sister and Storm’s girl, that’s enough for me.
“Beggar. You want something to drink?”
I’m aware that Kylie is three years younger than me, so offering her alcohol is against the rules unless I’m told other-wise.
I’m also aware that I look at least five to six years older than her when I’m barely three.
“I can get it myself.” She chirps but makes even that annoying sound, cool.
Kylie Bray is something else.
She tilts her head to the side the same way Aron likes to do. He’s in Killer’s room playing PlayStation with his uncle.
The thought makes me smile and has Kylie giving me speculative look,
“So, what’s your story Beggar, besides the fact that you were a beggar and shacking up with my heartless jackass friend Zero, and don’t deny it.”
The all-knowing glance she gives me from across the bar while I dry the glasses makes me want to laugh.
She’s so young and carefree, something I’ve never had a chance to be. I like her
“Not much to tell,” I say as I put the dry glass on the tray in front of me and grab another.
“Or plenty to tell, and I just don’t trust you Kylie, well not yet anyway.” She answers back with an arch of her brow before standing up from the bar stool she was sitting on.
“Not much to tell, you already know I’ve lived on the streets my whole life. I’m 21 and shacking up is not the word for what Zero and I are doing. He sleeps in my bed.”
“Right,” She drags out.
Kylie is taller than me by a good couple inches. Her body is lean and toned, that would look just as nice encased in black jeans and a bright yellow vest with a catch phrase, ‘Pleeeease let it knock you,’ as the short blue number she’s wearing.
Her make-up free face breaks into a big smile, “So, wanna join me for lunch Beggar, say 2 weeks’ time?”
“You wanna have lunch with me?”
She looks affronted by whatever she sees on my face and loses some of that smile.
“Well I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t, sheesh woman,” She snaps.
I think it over, as she mumbles something like, ‘what’s there to think about.’
I’m not a hundred percent certain I’ll be here, but I nod with a small smile of my own.
“Great, I’ll see myself out once Aron gets his ass in my car,” She says this while pulling a soda pop from the fridge next to me.
“What should I tell Storm?” I ask.
Her response is a tinge of red marking her cheeks,
“Nothing he doesn’t already know.”
She winks at me with a salute before she walks off. I watch her go, shoulders back, feet sure and brisk.
Will I ever be able to do that? The thought is absurd and dumb, I’m never going to.
I skipped feminism the day I was born.
I’m just a beggar.
With that thought I get back to my job of clearing the bar. My first paying job.
I’m thankful to The Satan Snipers that I’m not sleeping on the streets and I’m a long way from Washington.
I would never allow the Famiglia to claim me. I couldn’t.
I wouldn’t force my family into a war. Which is why I can’t let The Satan Snipers help me too.
My new start just has to wait another time.
The club hasn’t made a decision on what they plan on doing.
Rounder told me that whatever they decide I’ll be safe. What he doesn’t know, is that as long as Lucca breathes, I will never be safe.
My day passes without a word from Zero and it’s the first time I’m left alone in this big farm house.
I spend my day cleaning, vacuuming the carpets and wiping the floors. Anything to get my mind to quieten.
A setting sun and still no sign of anyone besides Killer who got a call and left hours ago.
I head up to my room.
Kylie and Aron are probably back in New York by now. She gave me her number to give her a call if I was ever in Washington again.
A few days ago, I would have laughed about that happening. No way was I setting foot in that place.
Now I’m laughing because ain’t I the poster girl for shit luck.
I shake my head as I look at my leather bag ducking partially under the bed. I bend down, pick it up and throw it on top.
My night comes to show its haunting presence, reminding me of my limited time with Zero.
He hasn’t called and I don’t blame him.
He asked me for one thing, and it’s a basic question to some, but I’m not just some.
Apart of me wants to curl up in a ball and cry for hurting a man that I hardly know, but yet has come to mean so much to me it’s confusing at the same time amazing.
A man that saves me a little each day.