Outcasts (Badlands 3)

I gave him a flat look.

Romero slightly shifted, pulling my attention back to him, and I knew whatever he was about to say had him feeling uncomfortable, which rarely happened.

“You know the only thing I want from Cali is her to never stop loving me? She’s a psychotic bitch and pisses me off a good ten times a day, but she’s everything to me.

“I don’t think I’d be able to keep going if I lost her. Maybe I’m pussy for having that big a weakness, but I quickly learned not give a shit. I love that woman; she’s my fucking queen. From the day she and that annoying as shit, loud mouth girl you got a soft spot for came rollin their asses down that hill and running through the woods, I knew she was it for me.

“You knew it too; I know you did. Don’t deny yourself something like this. Trust me when I say she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, aside from that squishy alien in her stomach.

“You’ve always been a king in your own right; don’t come back here without your queen. If you gag her ass in the process, you’d be doing me a favor.”

I could count on one hand the number of times I’d been surprised. This took two fingers. Cobra had the same expression on his face as I did. That was the most emotional shit he’d said to either of us since we’d been kids.

Hugging him would probably get me dropped on my ass and be taking shit way too far, but I felt the love of a brother just as strong as I always had, if not stronger—for the blessing I didn’t need but he gave me anyway, and the man he became for my sister.

“I agree with all the shit he just said,” Cobra commented, grounding us back to our usual self-preserved demeanors as he usually did when shit got to an awkwardly silent level.

“Call me as soon as you settle with her,” Romero said, back to normal programming.

He didn’t like saying goodbyes because they were often final. We three lived up to every fucked up expectation people had of us, but what no one knew was that when we cared about someone, we cared with the all parts of us that could still give a shit.

I was loyal only to my family; it was because of that I vowed to track down someone that had been stolen from us. And I had. And Rome was right.

I climbed on my Fat Boy, gave a slight nod of my head, and turned the engine over.

Now, it was time to bring her home where she belonged.

Chapter Four

I’d had enough.

I could no longer feel the steady rhythm of my heart. I felt cold and damned. There were these constant moments where I would disconnect. I was either numb or feeling everything at once.

I needed someone to shove me over the fuckin edge, or put me out of my misery. I was sinking; something murky was rising. My sky was falling, and the tides were turning.

I didn’t know how much time had passed since Noah gave me to those men wrapped up in a pretty bow.

My body still hurt, but whether it was all in my head or physical, I couldn’t process.

I think it was two or three days ago he’d come in and announced we would be moving again soon. His voice sparsely registered—I wish he’d shut up and save his breath, choke on his own words. I couldn’t bring myself to pretend I cared about anything he had to say. He needed to find a hobby and spare me one single second more of his company.

I’d been having beautifully morbid daydreams lately. Every time I heard him speak, and every time I flashed back to the men who took what didn’t fuckin belong to them, I drifted off into a catatonic place.

I envisioned their ligaments scattered in pieces, their entrails greedily devoured by the crows cawing outside my window as a I sang the counting song.

One for sorrow, two for mirth…

Those black carrion birds had become a source of comfort.

I imagined them arriving just to keep me company, as if they knew in their majestic little heads that this kind of loneliness was new to me.

See, I’d always been kind of a loner, but never intentionally. I laughed a bit too loud, and my soul was a tad too wild for me to ever really blend in with normal folks.

This was different, though. This kind of lonely came from feeling like I no longer knew myself. I’d known exactly who I was before, but I didn’t know who I was becoming now.

I’d had typical vengeful notions just weeks ago. These twisted thoughts were foreign to me. I swear I’d lost my mind; it felt like I was slowly going insane.

My life had been completely shaken up and rearranged. I knew I would always be partially to blame for that, and that there was nothin to be done about the events that led me here.