“Don’t yell at me, asshole. I’m only doing my job!”
“If you weren’t a woman,” Reaper growled.
“You’d what? You are not big enough to take me down, asshole. As I said before when I accepted your colors. I wasn’t going to take any of your shit. Now apologize.”
“Fine, sorry,” Reaper sighed. “Player, Chaos, Ink, and Chisel just left and are headed your way Bullseye. I will follow within the next hour with Ghost if Healer can get his ass up.”
“I’m going too.”
“Shadow, I need you to stay here.”
“No.”
Phantom chuckled as Reaper sighed, “Fucking kid just walked out on me. What the fuck is wrong with you people? I am the mother fucking president of this club!”
“Yeah, well, you’re being a dick right now,” We heard Phantom whisper. I grinned while the others stifled their laughter. Oh yeah, Reaper was on a roll right now, and he had definitely lost his shit.
“Gotta agree with her, man. It’s not the end of the world. Just take a breather. We’ll figure all this out.”
“Breather?” Reaper seethed into the phone. “Did you just tell me to take a breather, Dylan?”
When I didn’t respond, Reaper added. “Wait right there. I’ll be there soon…brother.”
With that, the line went dead.
Oh yeah…Reaper was really going to kill me this time.
Twenty-Five
Ghost
Time stood still. Nothing moved. Everything blended together. Nothing made sense as the days slowly dragged on. I only lived for my dreams. She was there, always waiting on me. In my dreams, everything was perfect. She was with me, smiling, letting me love her as I should have. I listened as she sang to me. Her voice was healing my soul. In my dreams, we talked for hours about everything, yet nothing in particular. In my dreams, she was mine to have, love, and be with as we became one. The hardest part was leaving her. But I knew as soon as night fell, she would be mine again.
Sitting on my bed, I tried not to think of what life would have been like with her. I could imagine so many beautiful things as I let my mind wander. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t stop myself.
I wasn’t the man she believed. I wasn’t strong like the others thought. Without her, I was nothing. Never would be.
Over the weeks, my brother would come to see me, and once he brought my daughter.
God forgive me, my daughter.
She was so young. She didn’t know what was going on, and I couldn’t tell her. All she knew was that I was sad. While that was true, it was more than that. I didn’t know how to explain that to a four-year-old. I tried talking to her once, right after the funeral, but I couldn’t find any words. All I did was cry.
Shadow stopped bringing her after that.
I didn’t blame him.
Others came by, but mostly everyone left me alone. What could they say that I didn’t already know. Yes, the woman I loved was dead. I needed to grieve and move on. That was the problem I was having—the moving on part.
How do they expect me to move on from death?
I can’t. It’s impossible. No matter what I do, nothing will change the fact that she is gone. She will never come back. I will always miss her, think of her, cry for her. My soul will never be the same. It will still be there, just broken, cracked, a former shell of its previous self.
It’s a constant living reminder that I’m half the person I was before.
The pain is unbearable at times, almost as if someone is trying to rip my heart out with a spoon, while other days, I can barely breathe.
Healer told me it will take some time. How much, he didn’t know. Apparently, it’s different for everyone, not that I cared about everyone. I was living in my own misery, and I was not eager to leave it yet. I was quite content where I was. Because if I moved on, I feared I wouldn’t dream of her anymore.