Sunday Morning (Damaged #7.5)(16)



“I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“No, you’re not. You’re mad at us for doing what you don’t like, so this is our punishment.”

“I’m an *, huh?”

“Yeah, but I’m a bitch, so I try not to hold things against you too much. We’re flawed.”

Kirk wanted to smile, and I caught him fighting with his lips to avoid giving in.

“You have time to change,” he said.

“So do you.”

Kirk sighed. “This is why I can’t talk to you. Everything you say sounds so rational, and I think you’re right, but you’re not.”

“I’m not arguing about this with you, but I am right, and you are wrong. Trust me. I know things.”

“You do, huh?”

Smiling slightly, I let go of his hand and stepped back. “Be nice to me, Kirk Johansson.”

He finally shared my smile and then surprised me by cupping my jaw. “I’ll do my best, but that ain’t saying much.”

“It’ll do for now.”

After our mini-blowout, Kirk and I fell into an uneasy acceptance of what we had become. We were lovers who didn’t f*ck and friends who didn’t trust each other. Well, I figured Kirk mostly didn’t trust himself. He still ignored me too much, and I still resented him for being so damn stubborn.

That year, we enjoyed a quiet Christmas. He bought me a yin yang necklace. I bought him a skull design lighter. Before he opened it, I teased him by saying it was a box of condoms. He wasn’t amused, but I laughed so hard at his expression that I nearly peed myself.





11 - Jodi


Every night for weeks, I imagined climbing into Kirk’s bed. I always chickened out, fearing he might reject me. The night I finally took the plunge wasn’t so different than any other night. I wasn’t sure why I needed to know on that particular Tuesday, but I forced myself off the couch at a little after two am.

First, I used the restroom. After cleaning up, I stared in the mirror. I wasn’t ravishing with my tired eyes and bedhead. Despite not feeling the least bit sexy, I stripped out of my clothes and walked into Kirk’s bedroom.

He’d fallen asleep an hour earlier. I often remained awake and listened to him moving in bed. That night, he stirred more than usual. Had he been restless like me? Had he craved my touch the way I did his?

I pulled back his sheet and crawled into bed. Kirk slept naked, and I shivered at the sight of him. His tanned and tatted skin was dark against the white sheets. Even tempted to touch him, I still hesitated.

Kirk sat up with a start, thinking he was under attack. I flinched at his sudden moment and then waited for him to wake enough to understand.

“Jodi?” he asked. He blinked rapidly in the darkness and said, “Jodi.”

The second time he said my name, his voice was filled with warmth.

“Please,” I whispered, placing my shaking hand on his chest.

Kirk’s expression was unreadable in the shadowy room. He pulled back the covers enough for me to slide closer. Once we were under the sheets, his smile erased my fears.

I was a woman before that night, but Kirk made me his woman with every kiss and hushed word. He was always tender even while demanding everything I could give. Kirk once said he would never take my innocence, and I’d laughed about having no innocence left.

In fact, our night together rekindled my innocence. My childlike belief in love and happy endings returned because of Kirk.

For as long as I could remember, I hadn’t felt loved. With Kirk, I was overcome with the feeling. It wasn’t a sweet, redemptive love, but the desperate sort. Kirk made me believe my presence alone could save him.

In the dark room on a cold winter night, Kirk looked at me with the gaze of a man drowning in a hell of his own making.





12 - Kirk


The morning after I took Jodi’s virginity, I suffered the retribution of my selfishness.

I awoke next to the best woman I’d ever known. She was beautiful and strong, and I was a f*cking loser for having her in my bed. With my lust sated, I could see clearer how I’d given into my basest needs while ignoring my common sense.

Jodi was still a kid in a thousand little ways I’d chosen to ignore. I only focused on the thousands of ways she was a woman. I hated myself for taking the easy, selfish route.

I blamed Jodi too. At seventeen, she was too young for me, but she was too old to believe in fairytales. She looked at me as her savior. She believed love healed all wounds. That together we could defeat every obstacle. These were the fantasies of a hurt child in the dark, not the beliefs of a strong woman.

Pissed at us, I stayed awake long after Jodi dozed off next to me. I clearly saw my past and future. Fuck Jodi and f*ck me and f*ck life for putting us in the position to think we mattered.

Our hopes didn’t mean anything more than the dreams of the people at the Princess Farms Trailer Park. The men in my club had no chance of having something beautiful. To think I was better than them was a f*cking loser move.

With Jodi, my common sense left me. So I left her.

Sneaking out just after dawn, I didn’t leave a note before riding off on my Harley.

I rode for hours. The sun warmed the day before shifting lowering in the sky that evening. I stopped to eat once, maybe twice. Nothing felt real anymore. I had to keep driving until I found the path back to a world, and a Kirk, that made sense.

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