Walk the Line (Kings of Chaos 5)

“Clearing my head, so I don’t ruin everything.”

“Oh,” she whispers. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

I want to shake her. “Didn’t I?”

“No, you said you had to go like I’ve suddenly become a leper.”

“Fuck. See. I can’t even do this right—”

“Hey, we both agreed we were learning here.”

Her voice is soft again, the way it usually is with me. We reach her car, and I kiss her forehead.

“I’ll call you tomorrow. Or should I say later on today?”

“You’d better.”

The minute she climbs into the seat, I slam the door and back away. She pulls away from the curb and I all but run to my bike. I’d never thought about this part. Telling her, I love her would put my head on the chopping block. Remaining silent hurt her. Despite her saying otherwise. This is my last wall. I don’t get tired of her ever. I want to be around her constantly, and it scares the piss out of me. If I give her this, there will be nothing to anchor me or keep me from completely falling. I don’t know what that will look or feel like.

I start the bike and pull out, letting the road and the rumble sooth me. I’m still wondering what she wants with me. She’s got money, a degree, a family who loves her. She might not have a ton of friends, but the one I met is the kind people rarely find even once in their lifetime. So what is she doing with me? How can she love me? What I want and what I’m willing to accept and believe are at war. I was never enough for anyone else growing up. Can I be right for her? I earn my keep with the club. I keep everyone safe. I understand my place with them and why we work.

Blanche is uncharted territory, and that unsettles me. When she threw the l-word down it took away my control of the situation. I hit the highway and let the wind blow away the memories of rejections. Blanche had nothing to do with those people, and if I let them keep me from her, they win. I’m not big on losing. Fuck. I sent home the woman who left her house at midnight to make sure I was okay. I’m bad at this, but I’m smart enough to know I screwed up. How the hell am I going to make this up? I pull off on the next exit, find A Walmart and pull into a parking space. I do what everyone does when they don’t know something. I ask Google.

Google, how to make up with your girlfriend after a fight? I scroll through the results. Everything is closed, so these grand gestures aren’t going to happen at midnight, but I have a Walmart, money in the bank, and a sincere regret for how things went down. I kill the engine, climb off, and head inside, a man on a mission.

An hour add three bags of stuff later I’m headed to her apartment. My anxiety spikes. I’m not used to apologizing. Unless brothers need to work off aggression in the ring, things tend to blow over on their own. I walk the bike back into a guest spot, gather my goodies, and do a completely different walk of shame. I knock on the door and try not to think about everything that could go wrong, or how silly I feel. She opens the door rubbing her eyes.

“What in the world, are you doing here right now?” she asks groggily.

“I-I’m sorry.” I thrust the first bags toward her.

“What?”

“I got your favorites, a box of Little Debbie cream pies, Dunkin Donuts coffee, Irish creamer to go with it, and—” I peel the plastic away from the bright bundles of flowers I can’t name, “flowers.”

“I. You did all this because we had a fight?”

I nod my head waiting.

“Oh, Jagger, you are so damn sweet, I might get cavities.” She launches herself into my arms, and I catch her stunned.

“You’re not…upset?”

“No. I know you grew up differently than I did. The only thing I ask you to do is communicate what’s going on. I can’t do another relationship in the dark.”

“There are things I’m working out for myself. I might need time and space to work through it. I’m not used to dealing with things in a healthy manner. Usually, I’d go a few rounds in a ring to blow off steam, or worse.”

She frowns as I step inside and close the door behind me.

“I had an anger problem. I was pissed off at the hand I’d been dealt. I felt ignored, and deprived. I never learned how to… Properly express emotion, so I blew my top. I was in so many fights, and in and out of court and jail for them. Never any hard time, but enough to cool my jets and met Warped, my Sponsor. He talked some sense into me. Told me I needed to channel my anger and find an anchor. When I got out, I found him, and I’ve been with the Kings of Chaos ever since.”

“They saved you.”

“I think so. The way I was going. I would’ve ended up in one of two places. Jail, or the morgue.” I shake my head thinking about the stupid mistakes I’d made. There must’ve been a guardian angel watching over me because I hadn’t gotten caught half the time.

“Jesus, Jagger.”

“I was a lost soul.”