Coal (Regulators MC 3)

I almost spew the beer in my mouth all over the bar. Giving Hammer an utter ‘what the fuck’ look, I tell him the first thing that pops into my head. “Man, are you high? I fuckin’ pay for pussy just to get my rocks off. Why in the hell would I ever tie myself to a woman like that?”

My brother seems to look right through me. As if he sees the deep, dark black pit where my soul used to be. “What are you so afraid of?”

Denying his words, I shake my head. “Not afraid of a motherfuckin’ thing, brother. Just don’t want to get married. You so big on it all of a sudden, why don’t you give me one good reason I should.”

A certain mischievous look crosses over Hammer’s face, and I know he’s about to say something I might want to punch him for.

“In your case, brother, it might be cheaper to get married and keep a wife than continuing to pay to get your rocks off.”

~Paisley~

Two days have passed since I got his name. I have been so busy with my yoga classes and job at the grocery store that I haven’t had the chance to go to the library.

Lame.

I know that’s what most people think when they come to my apartment and find out I don’t have cable, a computer, or internet service. In fact, I didn’t have a television until Morgan, Des, and I started rotating girls’ night.

They both live with bikers, so girls’ night is our time to watch some sappy movie they can’t watch with their men. I felt bad that it was always at Desirae’s or Morgan’s house, so I decided to get a television. It impacts my environmental footprint, but not by much since it’s only used when they are over. That’s why I’m sitting behind the computer at the local library.

It’s not a huge library like the one on the other side of town, but that’s probably why I love it. It’s the oldest library in the city, and I like that they keep the history in it alive. More than anything, shelves and shelves of books surround me. The computer section is very small, consisting of only two computers placed in cubby style desks facing each other. The other computer is empty, making me feel a little better about what I’m about to do.

The search box is in front of me. I pause.

This is an invasion of privacy.

I wouldn’t want someone to do this to me. I’m breaking a cardinal rule here.

Guilt eats at me.

If only the stubborn man would let me make things right, then I wouldn’t have to stoop to this level. Determining it’s Coal’s fault I’m doing this, I type in his name.

I hear women talking all the time at the gym about going on social media to check up on the men they are seeing or are interested in. Therefore, this is common, right? Everyone everywhere is constantly talking about updating statuses or posting pictures; certainly, I can find something.

I scroll through hundreds of men named Trevor Blake, but they aren’t the right age, race, or location.

Absolutely nothing.

What the hell? This day in age, who doesn’t have a social media footprint?

I huff out a breath. Me, that’s who.

I don’t buy into the hoopla. To me, if the people from my past wanted to keep in contact, they would have. Plus, I don’t want to waste energy by being tied to some sort of electronic device just to tell the world what I’m doing, have done, or want to do. I mean, really, why should anyone care?

Hell, when my parents died, none of my so-called-friends came to the funeral. The community banded around me in their own way. The church covered the costs of their services and burials.

I fight back the tears.

Fire.

My parents died in a fire from a turkey fryer. The explosion happened, and then the flames consumed the old house rapidly.

I wasn’t always vegan. I wasn’t always concerned with my environment, my aura, or what anyone felt or thought of me. There was a time in life when I was carefree.

College. I was free for the first year of college. Life was wild, and I didn’t give a second thought to my actions or my words. Then my parents didn’t follow the simple instructions on their turkey fryer and blew their whole house up and my life with them. It also left me no chance to make things right with them. Day after day, I lost myself in the grief that my parents died angry with me.

It’s my fault. I wasn’t doing things right. I was partying my life away. In an instant, Mother Nature stepped in and showed me who is boss. It took me three counselors and a psychology class to sort out the crazy thoughts running through my head.