Authors: Xavier Neal
Ryder
-“I've changed, but my love for you never will.”-
Stepping into the room the remarkable transition has happened in, I'm stunned when Doc isn't in it. It's my last day. Today's my final session. This is the last moment that stands between me and freedom. Me and starting over. This is it for old Ryder Collins. I need this moment.
“Ryder,” Doc calls over my shoulder. I turn around to see him leaned against the wall opposite of the door. “Let's go to my office.”
Quickly I question, “You sure?”
The expression on his face doesn't change.
I shove my hands in my pockets. “Yeah. Sure. Lead the way.”
The two of us head down the empty hall. It's earlier than we usually meet, but I wanted something different today. Hanging out with Kara yesterday felt right. It was a small change, but effective. More small changes. That's what I need to finally absquatulate the lurking shadows of devastation. I want to see the light. I want my second chance at life.
In his small corner office, I have a seat in one of the chairs across from his desk. My eyes roam around the black, red, and yellow decorations. The bold colors of the ZD MC. From the photos hanging on his wall it appears he still has a strong sodality with the club.
“Scared?”
“Of you or the club?”
“Both.”
I shrug. “I didn't part with them on terrible terms. I was nothing more than an errand boy.”
“An errand boy in a broken system. Most errand boys die. Many at the President’s hand.” His information has me checking his hand placement. “I'm a different sort of President.”
“Y-Y-You're the President of-”
“Yeah.” He lifts a hand to shut me up. “After many were annihilated from unnecessary drug wars, double crosses for an intangible power, there were only a handful of men left. I had removed myself long before that. I was tired of watching men I considered my brothers die for nothing. When they approached me about taking over, it was because they wanted a second chance at life. They wanted to stand for something else. They wanted other clubs to get the point that they weren't in the battle for territory anymore. So when I took over, I turned it into just that. We all have legal jobs. The club does non-profit work to help keep it's doors open. We are built on making this a better society to be in.”
Folding my hands together I lean forward, intrigued to see where this is going.
“You're being given a second chance at life Ryder. Take it. Rebuild your life into something better. Make a better family for you to live in. Make a better future. Make this count.” When I nod he says, “I don't take many cases here. I take the ones others have given up on. I take the ones I believe
want
to actually change. I only take chances that I deem will be the worth the time I have to spend away from my daughter. Don't make me regret my choice to help you Ryder. ZD MC's first basic principal is do not fuck with our family.”
Astounded, I merely nod again. “I...I understand.”
“Good,” Doc replies. He pushes a blank piece of paper at me. “I don't wanna talk to you today.” Prepared to panic, I'm thankful when he continues, “You've done enough talking over the past week. You need one final moment of closure. You will write a letter to Blue Dream. Do not fill it with fluff and long winded sentiments. Be direct. Be precise. Say your final words of peace. Afterwards, you will put it in an envelope and address it to her. You will hand it to me and I will hand you a copy of your release papers.”
My eyebrows furrow. “And if I don't?”
“Then your time here is incomplete. Wasted. And you have broken the first principal that rules my life.” A mixture of terror and turmoil tear through me alike. “But you will. You're not the same Ryder I met a week ago.”
I pick up the pen just as he places the cigarette box down beside me.
With the piece of the past taunting me and the key to my future in my hand, I take the control of my life with no intention of ever letting it go again.
Presley
“I know Mom,” I sigh as I sit down at the very table I grew up eating at. “Works just been busy and I was helping Katherine with this project-”
“Oh!” She exclaims. “How is Katherine?”
“She's great. Working on another book.” Keeping the fact I'm used as testimony to help her prove her cases to myself, I steer the conversation towards our family. “How's Gabe?”
“He's really good.” My mom finishes putting away the last of the dishes. “We're actually going to BINGO with him and Antonio in just a little bit. Wanna come?”
Reaching for my mail that still gets sent here since it's the address on my license, I reject the invitation. “I'm gonna pass. I prefer my BINGO played with colors and skittles.”
A good giggle comes from her as she sits down beside me. “Speaking of children, Gabe and Antonio have been approved for adoption.”
There's a small ache in my chest. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah! A little girl from Japan.”
Shaking my head slowly I question, “Why? Why not one from his country? Or Puerto Rico where Antonio is actually from?”
“You know your brother. Once he gets it in his head to do something, that's what he does.”
“I know. My dolls suffered many terrible haircuts from his determination.”
After giving me a bright smile, she questions, “What about you and Xander? How are you two?”
For the first time to someone besides Katherine I confess, “I don't even know any more, Mom.”
Her hand lands on mine. “What's wrong?”
“I just...I'm not sure we should be together.” She doesn't say anything. She simply grips my hand tighter. “Sometimes it feels like I'm only with him because he was there to be with at one point in my life and don't have the strength to just end it. Then I start thinking back to the years we've been together and think I'm just having crazy mid relationship cold feet or something. But we don't agree on things that really matter to me...I just...I don't know.”
“You have to ask yourself the first question that I feel matters most. Do you love him?” When I don't reply she follows it up with, “If you do, then see where you two can compromise on issues that are bothering you. Love requires work and energy, but you have to be on the same side of wanting the end result of being together because you love each other. If you don't love him anymore, let him go. Let yourself go. Move forward.”
Sorrow slices my vocal chords. All of that is bottom line basics. It's not like she's speaking New Age mumbo jumbo at me. She's speaking in the simplest terms she can. I'm the one over complicating things. Fear of what I'm about to do causes me to grip the mail in my hands tighter.
My father walks into the kitchen. “Hey, Presley.”
“Hey Dad.”
“You coming to BINGO?”
“Sadly no.” I stand. “Just came by to get my mail. Xander had a procedure today so I'm gonna get home and check on him.”
“Was it anything major?” My father's question is ambiguous.
There's another pull in my heart, this time harder. “I'm sure he's fine.” Before they can implore further, I say, “Have fun with Gabe. Give them my love.”
“Of course,” my mother sighs.
After taking the longest route home possible, needing the space to outline exactly what I want to say in a way that doesn't make me sound like a heartless wench, I grab the mail from the apartment box and head upstairs.
As soon as I'm inside, I call out, “Xander!” When there's no response, I make my way towards our bedroom. I know he's home. I parked beside his car. “Xander!”
“Shower!” He answers from the bathroom where the door is slightly cracked.
Flopping down on the edge of our bed, I'm not surprised when he kills it seconds later.
“My procedure was postponed,” he informs from me behind me.
With the mail still in my clutches, I turn around. “Why didn't you call and tell me?”
“I didn't wanna bother you at work.”
Flustered I snap, “That kind of information isn't a bother Xander.”
“Well to me it is. It didn't seem worth upsetting you over.”
“That wouldn't have upset me,” I snip. “You
not
calling is upsetting. You
not
giving me a choice about our future is upsetting.” Realizing the conversation isn't going as smoothly as I'd been practicing, I clear my throat and turn around to regain my composure. Tossing junk mail out of my lap to a pile beside me I ask, “What happened?”
“My doctor was ill. While I trust other physicians, I would prefer the one I'm acquainted with.”
“Makes logical sense.”
“So, I went into work today since there was no point in wasting a day off if I didn't have to,” he continues, but his voice is now fading as a plain white envelope addressed to me with no return address catches my attention. The handwriting on it looks so familiar that the very sight of it stuns my other senses.
Carefully I turn it over, rip it open, and remove a folded letter.
Presley,
You were my first addiction, my sweetest high.
I tried to replace you in various ways, but always failed.
You wanted to protect me.
You were my family when it felt like I had no one else.
For the pain I caused you, I will never forgive myself.
Letting you walk away was the hardest thing I've ever done.
I've changed, but my love for you never will.
You were my first addiction, my sweetest high, the one I'll never stop chasing.
I haven't given up hope. Not yet.
-Ryder
My hand trembles as I lower the letter down to my chest.
“So,” Xander's voice floods my ears again. “What do you say we get married?”
Sharply I turn to look over my shoulder. Xander tosses his head towards the nightstand where a red box is opened with an engagement ring on display.
The strenuous situation I was already dealing with feels like a feint struggle used to mask the skirmish I'm not sure my soul will survive. These are the cards I've been dealt. How the hell do I play them?
Ryder and Presley's story will continue in “Purple Haze” coming in 2016!
Read ahead for a sneak peak....
Ryder
Noah kills the engine to his Mercedes. “I think this one might work out.”
“You said that about the last three roommates we looked into.” Skeptical I hit my head against the back of the seat. “Maybe I should live alone.”
“You can't afford to live alone yet,” Noah's reminder causes my face to ruddy in response. “Besides, I think you've spent plenty of time alone, Ryder. You're starting over. Make new connections. Let new people into your life.”
“Right.” I nod. Giving my freshly cut hair a pull, I sigh, “Let's go meet this guy then.”
The two of us get out and walk straight ahead for the apartment closest to us. “Now, I've background checked him. He seems legit. Has a steady job. No priors came up. No recorded use of substance or any other kind of abuse. Nothing to worry about.”
I give my brother another nod and knock on the apartment door, which is a wide berth already from the shit holes I had been concealing myself in just months ago.
Almost immediately I'm greeted by a brunette male, same height, similar build, and matching eyes to my own. He finishes wiping what looks like oil off his hands. Casually he says, “You must be the dude here about being my roommate. I'd shake your hand, but it's not clean yet. I was just changing the oil in my girl's car. I'm Merrick McCoy.”