HARD KNOX(20)

The rage boiled over. I couldn’t image some man putting his hands on Ana. She was my girl. She was my love. I was the one who was supposed to take care of her and protect her. Keeping her at a distance was supposed to help her, not cause all this.

I jumped forward and managed to break away from the two goons. My right hand went forward and I was two inches from hitting Porter. And, damn, if I had hit him, he would have gone up in the air.

Before I could get to him, the two goons were back at me. This time they both worked me, pummeling me to the ground.

Porter eventually called them off.

He left me with a stern warning - stay away from Ana.

I watched the car drive away and I climbed to my feet. I had taken worse beatings, but not by much though. Figures the first night I’d put my leather cut back on I’d get into a brawl.

I lit up a fresh smoke and smiled.

Stay away from Ana…

I took a deep drag and climbed on my motorcycle.

My life changed right then. Everything I believed in was left there on the ground with my blood.

“Stay away from Ana,” I whispered to myself.

I started my motorcycle and took off.

Nothing then would ever keep me from Ana.

Well, except one thing - death.





chapter thirteen


(ana)



NOW



My only real friend in life was Megan. She understood what I went through growing up because her mother ended up in the same boat. Her father actually had an affair that spanned the country, along with a second family. When her father chose that second family it sent her mother into a spiral. Her mother then craved married men, trying to find a way to get to married women. It was a vicious cycle that left Megan leaving her mother and never talking to her again.

She was also connected into the family like I was. One of the guys who ran the finances - Mickey - was her boyfriend. He was tall, skinny, looked weak, but I heard rumors he loved to kill people. That alone made him terrifying.

I sat on the corner of my bed, worried that the light was going to hit my face the wrong way and make my makeup look like shit. Not that Megan would judge me for what Porter did, I just didn’t want to have that conversation.

I was mad at myself for it happening. I was mad at myself even more that I was still there, in my apartment, knowing Porter could show up whenever he wanted to.

She cradled a glass of wine but barely drank any of it. Which was good because if she drank too much then she’d have to stay over. Call me mean but I wanted to be left alone. My mind wouldn’t stop racing, no matter what I did.

“You ever wish you could get away from it?” Megan asked out of nowhere.

“What do you mean?”

“Just leave. Start over.”

“What would that get?”

“Hope,” Megan said. “I mean, it sounds silly… but imagine just finding a little town. And there’s a little diner. Right? You get a job there. You find a cramped apartment. But you make it work. And then it’s all… simple.”

It was like she was reading my heart.

I smiled. “Too many movies, Megan. I don’t think it works that way.”

“What keeps you here then?” she asked me.

My answer was easy - Knox. But I wouldn’t admit that to her.

“I don’t know,” I lied. “So much happened to me at once. And then my mother getting sick, getting worse, and dying… I feel like I haven’t caught my breath yet.”

“Yes!” Megan cried out. “That’s it. Catching your breath. Every time I turn around, Mickey has something else going on. I find stacks of money in my closet. I find guns in the drawers. It’s just so…”

Megan shook her head.

Chances were even if I was with Knox, that would be my reality. The town and city were run with crooks and outlaws.

“Maybe things will change,” I said. “I mean, look what happened with Danny and the club, right? They caught that guy stealing and stopped it.”

“They killed him,” Megan said.

“I know. But once all that stuff is straightened out… maybe it’ll be easier.”

“Maybe it won’t,” Megan said.

She stood and sipped more wine. We then walked out to the kitchen where she put her wineglass down.

There were a few awkward minutes of silence. So much so that I wondered if Megan was sent to kill me or something. Or sent to get information about me. Or to see if I’d tell her what Porter had done so she could tell him and he could hurt me again.

“Shit,” Megan said. She gripped the edge of the counter. “I came here for a reason.”

“Okay. What is it?”

Megan walked to her bag and I braced myself.

She didn’t take out a gun or a knife.

She took out a box with two pregnancy tests in it.

When I saw the box I let out a gasp. Her eyes filled with tears and I hurried to hug her.

“It’s bad,” she said. “It’s so bad.”

“What is?”

“It’s not with Mickey,” she said.

I backed away and put her at arm’s length. That was a big problem.

Megan told me a story of how someone else put some moves on her when Mickey was out of town. They’d been having an affair for a year now. She said she felt like a whore and like her mother. Now she was late and she feared the worst. I felt like a terrible person when I said maybe Mickey wouldn’t find out. Then she made it very clear that it would be obvious that baby wasn’t his. Like a fool I asked how and Megan pointed to her skin. Her Italian skin looked like it had a light tan all the time, along with Mickey’s. Apparently that guy she’d been sleeping with had much darker skin. And he wasn’t part of the family.