Page 8 of Bleed Me

“Let her let you go, Kenny. Don’t make her keep payin’ for a past neither of you can control or change. Let her future be without the ghosts. You, what you need to be focusing on is how to exorcise your own demons. Let her go. Give her that.”

Again, I grabbed my chest, tapping over my heart. Right here, Delilah.

Art’s engine roared to life. Now, looking back, the sound was a calling of sorts. A beckoning to know there was possibly a future out there for me.

I always had liked the sound of a Harley. I felt it made a statement. Every time I heard one, I knew the biker most likely had a brother nearby. I longed for such a comradery.

Tucker.

“What is it?” asked Artist.

It was going to be a long hard journey to completely say goodbye to my friend, once and for all. “What’s it like to belong to a brotherhood?”

He shrugged, but his words carried much weight. “Like having a family that chose you instead of cursing that you’re the same blood as them.”

Well. Shit. If that didn’t sum up what every man wants.

After putting on the helmet, I got on the back of the bike and held on to the edge of the seat behind me, thinking that better than getting all snuggly with Artist—the man with a gun. I’d been on dirt bikes and knew how to ride. We had no issues. Just rode in silence until we pulled down another dirt road and parked in front of a dark shack of a house.

The condition of the home reminded me of a home I once lived in with my mom. My stomach turned as my mind searched for recollections of times in such a home. Art was right. I had a lot of ghosts to hunt down and destroy.

Walking inside, Art laughed while turning on a lamp and answering Scorch’s call “Finally awake, fucktard? Yeah, I got him. Yep, straight to her house. Yeah, tomorrow.”

After he hung up, I asked, “You guys tested me?” I thought I had outsmarted the bikers, but it was more of them needing to know what I would do with any freedom they gave me.

He walked into a dirty, tiny green kitchen. “Of course.” He opened the fridge then tossed me a beer. “Hope you ain’t hungry. That’s all I got. I usually sleep at the club.”

I popped the lid and took long swallows, desperate for the numbing agent.

Art walked past me and down a hallway about two feet long. Walking into the only bedroom that shack had, he told me, “Can’t take you to the club. If V finds out you’re alive, too many balls will be cut off to count. That bitch is crazy.” He rifled through a couple of dresser drawers, then tossed me a brown t-shirt and a pair of black sports shorts. After digging through a closet, he threw me a black hoody.

I stared at the clothes in my hand, remembering meeting Tuck—

“The shower’s in there.” Art pointed to a tiny bathroom.

Walking in, shutting the squeaky door behind me and sliding the shower curtain to the side, I missed Delilah. She ran our household like a champ. Everything was always in pristine condition. Not a spec of dirt to be seen. It had been such a drastic change from the homes I had lived in with my mom, that I remember loving the cleanliness. It brought comfort I had never known.

Now, it was all gone.

Under the hot water, I tried to wash away all the loneliness and heartache. I knew I deserved all I was getting. I knew I had ruined all the gifts the Wards gave me, but it didn’t change the fact that I never wanted to be a bad person. When I was my true self, I was good. I had morals and loyalty to offer those close to me. Even strangers.

After my mom had moved us to a new town, I didn’t want to go to my new school. Of course, she forced me, so I kept to myself at the bus stop. Kids were playing around, doing what kids are supposed to do. I just wanted to disappear. That was until a young girl walked up to my bus stop while reading a book. Another kid, who clearly hadn’t gone hungry every night of his existence, like me, escorted her. I immediately resented him and his cozy home that, I was positive, exuded through his confidence. He was tall and strong, so I assumed he was another rich kid who had it easy, with his mom and dad encouraging him to bloom into the lawyer that they had always dreamt of him being.

His girlfriend, though, she was different. She was quiet. Reserved. My heart started to pound when the thought occurred to me.Damaged.

“Hi, you new?”

I was still staring at her when I realized someone was talking to me. It was the rich kid. Steak and potato-fed boyfriend of the girl who captured my attention. My stomach rumbled with that thought.I’d heard steaks were awesome.

No response was my answer to him. Deep in thought, rich kid walked back to the girl.

When the bus finally came, I was the last to load so I got to see it all. The pretty girl, who I had watched from afar, was stepping up onto the bus, now with a different guy behind her. She was still reading and unaware that he was reaching for her ass. It was blatantly disrespectful, and I wanted to teach him a thing or two, but then I saw Rich Boy grab the back of Grabby Hands’ collar and yank him clear off his feet. Rich kid calmly tossed Grabby Hands to the side before he followed his girlfriend onto the bus.

Grabby Hands got up off the ground, angry at the humiliating display of his inadequacy, and stomped onto the bus with a vengeance to be heard for miles. The bus driver didn’t seem to have any sympathy for the ass grabber while Grabby complained to him. The driver argued, “The only thing I saw was you trying to grab his sister’s behind. Want me to write you up?”

The guilty one stomped to his seat with his ego bruised and checked.

Sister? Maybe rich kid wasn’t so bad after all.

I watched her for another three days before I finally talked to her in a class we shared. The deep thinker was in the seventh grade like me. “Hi, I–I’m Kenny,” I introduced myself.

I was shocked by her observation and maturity. “Hi, Kenny. Youdo talk.” Her voice was so kind, it left me speechless. So, she giggled. “Or, maybe not. I’m Delilah.”

Delilah… I wanted to tell her something—anything—to keep her talking to me, but the bell rang, and I was left with a smile that I would never forget.

I watched Delilah walk away as our teacher tried to express how impressed she was with my work. I wasn’t sure why I had been told I was gifted; I felt less than common.

It wasn’t a crush that I felt for Delilah. At the time, I didn’t understand what I was experiencing. All I knew was that young girl was changing everything for me. The next day was not much different, until the end of the school day, when I heard the scream that triggered a fight reaction in me.

Delilah was calling for help.