Merciless Ride Read Online Free Page B

then get the hell out. Last call, which means we can go home soon. I am more than ready to hit the bed tonight.  
    Corinne seems nice enough. She is new to bartending, but definitely not new to bikers. She is a barfly through and through. Although, I guess I shouldn’t be so quick to judge. Some people probably think that of me, given my history with Rex.  
    History, that word again. Well, it certainly is what Rex and I are. Why I ever disillusioned myself to believe there could be more is beyond me.  
    Rex was the bad boy biker on the streets when I was in high school. He would pass by and wink at me. The first time he spoke to me, we were at a gas station. After I pulled up in my Honda, he strutted over as I was pumping gas. He looked over and saw my high school tassel hanging from my rearview mirror and smirked. It was my senior year. I knew it was cheesy to hang it from my mirror, but I was proud to be graduating and leaving my small town. As he watched me for a moment, his eyes dancing in humor, I was completely enamored and enthralled.  
    After a pat on my ass, he looked me up and down before saying, “Call me when you’re legal.” He then walked away with all the confidence in the world, never giving a second glance back. That is Rex, though, never looking back.  
    Lost in my life musings, the bar is empty before I even realize it.  
    “See ya tomorrow, Tessie,” Corinne calls out as she heads to the front door.  
    “Night. Drive safe,” I reply as I watch her lock the door and walk away.  
    After turning over the last bar stool, I make my way to the stock room. Sighing, I think back to the many nights Rex would stay behind to close up with me. The many nights he would take me right here in this very room.  
    Time to let go of all of that , I remind myself. He is never going to grow up or settle down. Take a page from his book, Tessie, no more looking back.  
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Three weeks. Three long, fucking weeks. Ever since Boomer brought her up, the ghost of my past is haunting me once again. She is relentless this time. I close my eyes and see her tear-filled gaze before she pulled the trigger, the depths of her stare begging me to change. Begging me to go back to a time when things were simple between us. Begging me to give up my career and be the man who could be home every night for dinner. The man who could sit beside her at church on Sunday. The man who crawled into bed with her to share my every secret and woke up every morning, cherishing having her in my arms. The stare, the look, and the final moment when she shut down, realizing I could never be the man she wanted. The final moment when I had to accept that I had cost her everything.  
    When I crawl in my bed each night, Tracie comes to me in my dreams. She reminds me I will never love again. I will never share a bed with anyone. Just as I cost her that dream, she is making sure to take it from me. I wake up drenched in sweat, my sheets soaked to the mattress and twisted into a disheveled mess as I have tossed and turned, fighting the demon within me. I couldn’t bring someone else into my nightmare. It would be unfair.  
    In the end, she got everything she wanted, only she isn’t here to share the life she has created for me. I live the life she wanted us to have together. My house isn’t as big as she would have wanted, and it is not in a subdivision on a cul-de-sac, but it is a home. I work at the garage where most weeks are a five day work week, eight hours a day. If we have a rush order, I work late or weekends, but that doesn’t happen often. I have my club, but I only go on the transports occasionally when there isn’t anyone else to fill in. My Army career is long gone and there is no going back.  
    Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder that is what they call it. Fucked up beyond any help is what I call it. Either way, I am no longer qualified to do my job. I am no longer one of the elite. My DD-214 lists me with an