“You need to sit,” he said, suddenly snapping out of his thoughts. When I didn’t move, he stomped over to me and shoved me towards a chair sitting up against the wall. He pushed me down and after picking it up off a small table near the front door, he thrust a diary into my hands.
“Turn to her last entry,” he commanded.
I did as he told, passing over the pages of Talia’s handwritten hopes and dreams, until I came to the final entry.
I looked up at Elias who urged me to start. “Now read.”
I licked my lips and sniffed, tasting the familiar metallic tang of blood down the back of my throat. My eyes moved from the knife in his hands to the diary on my knees.
“I’m waiting,” he sing-songed.
My heart was a wildling in my chest, beating fierce as my fear tore through me. I didn’t want to read Talia’s diary because I knew that whatever was on those pages would enrage Elias, and God only knew what he had planned for me then. But I had no choice.
“Dear diary,” I began . . .
Tonight I died. Tonight Talia Bennett is no more. It all began when I went to the clubhouse and saw Isaac . . . my sweet, charming Isaac. My MC man. My lover. My addiction. As you know, we hooked up last weekend and he messaged me a couple of times during the week, asking me to come to the party at the clubhouse. I was excited because he had been more attentive to me lately, more responsive to my letters and phone calls, more open to my affection. That alone told me that his feelings were growing stronger for me, and if I played my cards right, and do the right thing and please him, then he’d see what a good old lady I would make, and he will make me his girl.
I loved him so much, diary.
So much.
But now my heart is broken and my grief is pouring into the open wound in my chest until I can’t feel anything but pain. I can’t say these words out loud, but I need to get them out of me so there is proof that this happened. So I won’t ever let myself be fooled by love again.
The party was a big one. There were a couple of out-of-town chapters visiting, so the Kings went all out. A band. Loud music. Women. Liquor. Drugs.
Isaac was there looking handsome in his cut, his beautiful face angelic in the light of the bonfire. He saw me and I smiled, my heart bursting with happiness because that boy is just so fine he makes my insides quiver. But then he turned away from me, diary, deliberately ignoring me. He walked away and disappeared inside the clubhouse. I felt foolish because I had been waving to him and he turned his back on me and walked away. I looked around me and noticed a couple of snickering girls in tight skirts and tiny tops, leaning up against one of the barbecue tables. Damn skanks. Who were they to laugh at me?
I went looking for Isaac, I mean, maybe he didn’t see me. After all, why would he ignore me when he had spent the week texting me to come? As I moved through the shadows and light of the party, I managed to convince myself that it was a misunderstanding, that he hadn’t seen me on account of the shadows in the parking lot of the compound. Of course, he hadn’t seen me.
I found him inside, laughing with his friends, drinking. We spoke but he was preoccupied. He gave me a drink, but then disappeared outside and I didn’t see him again for a long while. By then he was drunk. Happy. And he seemed pleased to see me. He hooked his arm around my neck and planted a kiss on my head. I melted into him, feeling so much love for him, wanting him more than anything in the world.
Again, he gave me a drink and a few tokes on a joint. We sat on one of the couches in the clubhouse and we kissed. Then Irish, Jacob, and Tex joined us. We drank some more and we laughed a lot. They like me. They really like me. At one point, Isaac’s big hand slid up my leg and found the edge of my panties. The gesture was shocking but exciting. He slid his fingers under the satin and found the slickness of me, making me gasp with pleasure as they slid into me. I looked around. Irish and Tex were watching with a wild gleam in their eyes, while Jacob seemed a little lost as he sipped from his beer bottle and focused on the swirling of his cigarette in the glass ashtray on the table.