Our clubhouse was on the edge of a river. In the summer, the river’s waters would raise, creating a pretty nasty undertow and current that could drown the strongest man. I really hoped she wasn’t out there, but something was telling me that’s probably where I would find her.
I came to the edge of a small cliff, one that overlooked the shallowest part of the river. It was at least a story tall, so you could probably jump and survive the fall if it wasn’t for the spiky rocks that jutted out from the riverbed. Each of the stones was like a machete, ready to shred someone apart like jungle growth.
Shasta stood on the cliff’s edge, watching the water rush below her. She was wearing a black dress, and the wind whipped through the flimsy fabric, carrying it up until it billowed behind her.
She looked so beautiful standing there in the light of the moon. That haunted look in her eyes only fueled my desire to claim her again. I know it sounded weird and a bit morbid, but nothing got my cock harder than a woman crying. It was like the vulnerability was gripping my cock and jerking it.
“Shasta, why don’t you come down from the cliff, baby girl?”
She didn’t say a word, just sniffed and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. The clouds above me illuminated with a streak of lightning, signaling a storm that was starting to brew.
“Shasta, come on, let’s get you back to the clubhouse. It’s not safe out here.”
A crack of thunder announced the rain’s arrival, and it barreled down, first starting out as a small drizzle, then developing into a magnificent downpour that soaked us to the bone. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and the flimsy fabric clung to her taut nipples, hardening in the cool chill air that was getting colder by the second.
“Why? Why should I go back, Clash? There’s nothing for me there now. That bitch took everything away from me.”
“That’s not true, baby girl. You still have me… the club… Snyder.” I choked out the last part with great reluctance, but she was closer to him than she’d ever be to me.
“It’s not worth it anymore, Clash. The club would be better off without me here to bring it down.”
“That’s not true. You’re what holds this club together, Shasta. Without you, we’d just be another one percent club filled with drug addicts, sexaholics, and pussy collecting assholes. You shine brighter than every girl in that place. Don’t let Sabbath take that light away from you.”
“My light died long ago, Clash.”
The rain pelted us from above, and I could see her visibly shivering. Whether it was from her depression or the cold as fuck rain, I didn’t know.
“What’s the point of breathing when the one person who is the pinnacle of your world, constantly betrays you and casts you aside? I’m a doormat, Clash. A stupid fucking doormat he uses to scrape shit off his shoes.”
She wouldn’t look at me. Her eyes were hyper focused on the cliff’s edge, almost as if she was debating on whether to jump. It was like I could see the inner workings of her head. She was weighing the pros and cons of living versus ending it all, and I had no idea if I could talk her off the literal ledge she was standing on.
Snyder was right. She was fucked up beyond repair.
“Would a doormat force feed cock to a hoe who dared to touch her man?” My feet moved silently, afraid if I moved too fast, she would sprint off the edge and I would lose her forever.
“That was all a ruse. I’m not strong, Clash. I’m weak. I’m moldy bread.”
Mud sloshed beneath my feet as I approached her backside, and I saw her visibly straighten.
“Would a doormat take the time to revenge fuck two of her man’s best friends, then attempt to kick the shit out his mistress when she got in her way? No. Doormats don’t stand up for themselves, Shasta. Doormats don’t look for revenge. But you know who does? Strong… beautiful women with steel infused backbones that don’t give two fucks about anyone else. That’s who you are, Shasta. You’re a badass bitch that every other girl in this club is afraid of.”
She sniffed, rain sloshing off her shivering body in quarts. “Maybe I was for a moment… but now. Now I just want it all to end. I don’t want to spend another moment on this earth knowing he went out of his way to hurt me the way he did.”
“Shasta, please. Step away from the cliff. Don’t do something stupid. The club needs you. I—I need you.”
“I’m sorry, Clash,” she whispered. “I just need this nightmare to end…”
She took a step forward, but not before my giant strides closed the distance between us. Before she could jump, I cradled her in my arms, holding her tight against my body.
You couldn’t see the tears on her face because of the rain, but each painful sob shook through her, a torturous howl creeping out of her throat as she lost all control.
“Shhh, don’t cry. I’m here. I got you.”
“He hurt me, Clash. I’m never going to forgive him for any of this. Not for fucking other girls, not for knocking up Nina, and definitely not for raising his hand to me.”
“Wait? He raised his hand to you?”
She looked up at me with all the sorrow of a cold, wet, feral animal. That skittish look in her eyes, coupled with the pain that resonated in her pretty brown irises, killed me. She was so vulnerable right now, and I was the only person that could put her back together.