cock ached painfully when I remembered how it felt to touch my tongue to hers, the way she sounded when she moaned.
You’re all wrong for her. I knew it even before the voice in my head told me so. I was wrong for any woman I ever touched, so why should a random diner waitress be any different? And there I was, thinking I could be a hero, trying to save her from the shithead she used to be married to. I had no right acting that way, because I wasn’t a good guy. I wasn’t a hero. I was the sort of man women tried to get away from. Just because I had never hit a woman didn’t make me any better.
It had been the same way with Lauren. I had never felt good enough for her, and it wasn’t in my imagination. I really wasn’t good enough. She was the golden girl, the one everybody expected big things from. She’d been near the top of our class in high school—before I’d dropped out in senior year, anyway. That was when I’d joined the club full-time. There wasn’t enough time in the day to go to school, study and work with the club. I’d made my choice, and I’d never regretted it.
Still, she’d wanted to be with me. It was the biggest surprise of my life the first time I’d asked her out, back when we were both still students, and she’d said yes. I remembered thinking it was a joke, like all the smart, preppy kids would come out from whatever corner they were hiding behind to laugh at me. The kid from the wrong side of the tracks, asking out the valedictorian track star. She had meant it, though, and she’d even stayed by me when I dropped out.
I remembered the look on her face when I told her. Her beautiful face. The big, green eyes. Like emeralds. She had been so disappointed, but she’d known enough about me to respect my decision. There was no way I would change my mind.
Meanwhile, she’d gone on to college. Then to medical school. All the time, she stayed with me. She loved me. She used to tell me she’d loved me ever since the first day of junior year, when I’d ridden up to school on the back of my first bike. She had fallen in love.
“You fell in love with an image,” I used to say. “Not with me. You don’t know the real me.”
She would take my face in her hands whenever I said it. “I know who you are. I know what you do. I would have to be stupid not to know. But I know your heart, too. I know the person inside. I know you have a beautiful soul, even if you don’t want the guys to know. I’ll keep your secret for you.” And she had, until the day she died.
I would never forget it as long as I lived. Two years ago, in front of the clubhouse. It pained me every time I walked past the spot where I held her. The blood was gone, washed away. It was always there in my head, though. I didn’t need to see it to remember the way it had looked, watching Lauren’s life spread out under her in a red pool.
My heart ached when I thought about it, but I couldn’t stop once I got started. I knew enough after two years not to bother trying to change my thoughts. It was no good. Once I started thinking about Lauren, I had to see the story through to the end.
It had been late at night. She’d worked a double at the hospital, still in scrubs when she climbed out of her car in front of the clubhouse. I’d met her outside. She’d smiled, starting to walk toward me.
Then, headlights. Coming from every direction. I’d screamed at her to get down, to go back to the car, something, anything to get her out of there. She was too far away from the clubhouse doors to make it. She’d been a sitting duck.
I’d screamed for help, screamed for my guys to come out and back me up. There was a gun fight. Lauren fell to the ground, but I didn’t know if it was to take cover or because she had been hit. By that time, a dozen Blood Bandits had come out shooting, so I took the chance to Army crawl across the parking lot until I reached her.
She was already
You’re all wrong for her. I knew it even before the voice in my head told me so. I was wrong for any woman I ever touched, so why should a random diner waitress be any different? And there I was, thinking I could be a hero, trying to save her from the shithead she used to be married to. I had no right acting that way, because I wasn’t a good guy. I wasn’t a hero. I was the sort of man women tried to get away from. Just because I had never hit a woman didn’t make me any better.
It had been the same way with Lauren. I had never felt good enough for her, and it wasn’t in my imagination. I really wasn’t good enough. She was the golden girl, the one everybody expected big things from. She’d been near the top of our class in high school—before I’d dropped out in senior year, anyway. That was when I’d joined the club full-time. There wasn’t enough time in the day to go to school, study and work with the club. I’d made my choice, and I’d never regretted it.
Still, she’d wanted to be with me. It was the biggest surprise of my life the first time I’d asked her out, back when we were both still students, and she’d said yes. I remembered thinking it was a joke, like all the smart, preppy kids would come out from whatever corner they were hiding behind to laugh at me. The kid from the wrong side of the tracks, asking out the valedictorian track star. She had meant it, though, and she’d even stayed by me when I dropped out.
I remembered the look on her face when I told her. Her beautiful face. The big, green eyes. Like emeralds. She had been so disappointed, but she’d known enough about me to respect my decision. There was no way I would change my mind.
Meanwhile, she’d gone on to college. Then to medical school. All the time, she stayed with me. She loved me. She used to tell me she’d loved me ever since the first day of junior year, when I’d ridden up to school on the back of my first bike. She had fallen in love.
“You fell in love with an image,” I used to say. “Not with me. You don’t know the real me.”
She would take my face in her hands whenever I said it. “I know who you are. I know what you do. I would have to be stupid not to know. But I know your heart, too. I know the person inside. I know you have a beautiful soul, even if you don’t want the guys to know. I’ll keep your secret for you.” And she had, until the day she died.
I would never forget it as long as I lived. Two years ago, in front of the clubhouse. It pained me every time I walked past the spot where I held her. The blood was gone, washed away. It was always there in my head, though. I didn’t need to see it to remember the way it had looked, watching Lauren’s life spread out under her in a red pool.
My heart ached when I thought about it, but I couldn’t stop once I got started. I knew enough after two years not to bother trying to change my thoughts. It was no good. Once I started thinking about Lauren, I had to see the story through to the end.
It had been late at night. She’d worked a double at the hospital, still in scrubs when she climbed out of her car in front of the clubhouse. I’d met her outside. She’d smiled, starting to walk toward me.
Then, headlights. Coming from every direction. I’d screamed at her to get down, to go back to the car, something, anything to get her out of there. She was too far away from the clubhouse doors to make it. She’d been a sitting duck.
I’d screamed for help, screamed for my guys to come out and back me up. There was a gun fight. Lauren fell to the ground, but I didn’t know if it was to take cover or because she had been hit. By that time, a dozen Blood Bandits had come out shooting, so I took the chance to Army crawl across the parking lot until I reached her.
She was already
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