RemyWhat a difference a few months makes. I can remember coming out into the main room of the club and seeing everyone coupled up, wondering what the fuck was wrong with me. Now I'm sitting at the table, Tatum at my side."Do you know why he's called us all here today?" she whispers from where she sits, looking up at her dad who commands the table from the end."No idea," I answer, but I do. I have a feeling it's time for him to hand the club over to Drew, and with it will come a whole new way of doing things, a whole new world, and the ushering in of a new first family."Thank you everybody for coming." Liam sends out a grin to the table.I lean back, throwing my arm over the back of Tatum's chair, letting her get a clear view of her dad."Some of you know what this is about, some of you don't. I can assure you I didn't keep it a secret to hurt anyone, but I did it for myself. Up until this morning, I wasn't positive I could go through with it, but when I woke up next to
VOLUME TWO: WILDAddieMarch (The Present)"You're so full of shit." I hug Tatum tightly around the neck, doing my best to get my emotions under control. "I'm glad you're okay. I was worried," I reference the wreck my best friend had while running from her boyfriend's crazy parents. She's the closest thing I have to a sister, and when I heard she'd been in an accident, my mind immediately went to worst-case scenario. Conditions had been treacherous after an ice storm had almost crippled Warren County, and Tatum had lost control, ending up with an injured ankle and a totaled SUV. As I'm about to say something else to her, the doorbell to CRISIS, the women's shelter my mom runs, rings, causing us to both glance up at the camera positioned over the door.And this moment is when my normal day comes to an abrupt end. The man standing at the door is one I've been hanging out with lately. In secret. Meaning no one knows, except he and I. Since we started, I've wanted to keep it tha
WildJanuary (The Past)Inhale the future, exhale the past. I read that on a shirt somewhere in a gift shop at the beach. It was hanging above all these wooden signs that had white-girl wasted sayings on them. You know, the ramblings of a girl who's had her heart broken and gotten drunk on three glasses of wine. Those sayings always made me roll my eyes. I never believed any of them were true until this morning when I packed the saddlebags of my motorcycle to the brim, put on a backpack and started heading north up I-55. I'm not sure where I want to go, all I do know for sure is I wanna be anywhere but here. Mississippi has nothing and no one for me. The only things that matter are the bike between my legs, the memories in my brain, and the container of ashes that hold the only person who ever gave a shit about me.Exhaling is getting a lot easier the further I get away from the pain, the loneliness, and the same old shit. On the horizon as I head north, is the unknown, it may
AddieMid-January "You sure you don't want to come hang out with me and Remy?" Tatum asks as she stands poised at the mirror, ready to put color onto her bare lips. Sighing, I get up from her bed. "No, trust me, I don't wanna be around the two of you. Feeling like a third wheel? Not my idea of a good time. Doesn't mean I don't love you, though." I walk over and reach out, giving her a hug. "To me you're not a third wheel." She pouts, the red color she's applied making the motion appear exaggerated. "You've always been my ride or die."Hearing those words almost brings tears to my eyes, because the loneliness I've been feeling lately doesn't relent. But that's something I haven't shared with anyone. Even when I'm at my parents'. The stigma of being adopted, not belonging, has been weighing heavily on me the last few months. I know I should be able to talk to Tate or my dad about it. Tyler Blackfoot would no doubt spit some wisdom, but something keeps holding me back from sh
AddieThe apartment is quiet when I wake up the next morning. Part of me had hoped Tatum would come back, instead of spending the night with Remy, but judging by the silence, I'm alone. Again. Fuck, I hate this feeling.Getting out of bed is a struggle. Not only because it's cold, but because the weight of so much shit is pressing down on me and I can't seem to get out from under it. Most people would look at me and think I have it all, right? Great family, great friends, a good life. And I do, but I just don't feel like it's my life. No one in my family looks like me, they weren't there to hear that my mom was pregnant, no one can tell me the details of my birth. The real intimate details, like how long was she in labor? Did she have a C-section or a natural birth? Was I early, or late? Was she happy that she was having me? Was she scared? I've been struggling with these questions lately. I'm having a hard time finding my place, where I fit in.This loneliness, this feeling of
Wild"Shut the fuck up," I groan.My hand hits my phone harder than necessary, where it lays in bed next to me. There's no bedside table for it to go on, no dresser for it to sit atop. Nope, the only place for it is right next to my goddamn head on this twin mattress that kills my back. There's a nagging at the nape of my neck that tells me I should be thankful. Skunk rents this apartment from the guys who fixed my bike, and while it is a roof over my head. This is the tiniest apartment I've ever been in, in my life. Not to mention the stairs up to this thing are a fuckin' hazard. If either one of us ever come up or down them drunk, we're breaking our necks. I roll over on to my back, taking a deep breath. "Goddamn, man," I sigh as I get up, opening the door to the room that leads out onto a postage-stamp deck. There's barely enough room for me to stand out there, but at least I can get some fresh air, instead of the pot I've been inhaling consistently since I started staying
WildMayhem is hopping again tonight. The music is loud, and the drinks are flowing, but there's also something else. An undercurrent of excitement, or maybe tension? Whatever it is, I can't put my finger on it, but it has me paying attention more than I normally do."You feel it?" Skunk asks, he walks over to stand beside me as we both wipe glasses down."The electricity, the nervous energy?""Oh yeah, my man. You definitely feel it too."It goes without saying I do, but I don't know what it means in this mid-size college town. Does it mean shit's about to hit the fan or are we just in for a crazier than normal night? "There's definitely something bubbling under the surface," I agree with him as I gaze out over the crowd."Can I get a Coors?" I hear from my left. Going through the motions, I get the drink requested and deliver it, but my eyes aren't on the person I gave it to; instead they're canvasing everything.I'm not exactly sure what I'm waiting for, but I'll know
Wild"You want another one?" I ask Addie as she finishes off her second Crown and Coke. She's sat here all night, those dark eyes of hers following me as I work at the bar. Watching intently as I deliver drinks to waitresses who've dropped orders off, and the lonely fuckers who crowd around the table top every night. Even though I've only been here for a short amount of time I've gotten to know some of them. The way they come in here every night to numb their pain gets to me. Makes me wonder if that's how I'll end up – an old man, alone with no family nursing a lowball of Jack every night – which if you want to look deep is probably why I've taken Addie up so easily on her offer.One night that I don't have to spend alone in some foreign fucking apartment that stinks. A mattress, the origins of which I don't know. Someone could have died on it, for all the background I was given. None of the shit I have besides my bike and the clothes on my back are mine, but maybe just for one nig