It Ain't Me, Babe

Beauty was sniffing beside me. Even Letti’s tough exterior seemed sorely tested as she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. She was trying in vain to feign indifference to the deeply emotional story.

Rider reached for the black device—I was told it was a remote—with his good arm and switched off the TV. The four of us sat in complete silence.

Beauty wiped off the last of her tears and her cheeks glowed red. She deliberately turned to me and asked, “So what did you make of it, honey?”

“I… I… I did not know it could be like that between two people.” I swallowed and wrapped the sweater tighter around my body. “So this is true love?”

“This kinda love is what people want, Mae. Unfortunately, only a few seem to get it.”

“Do you have it with Tank?”

Her whole face brightened. She smiled so widely that I immediately envied her. “Yeah, darlin’, I do. Took a lot to get us here. He had a past. Hell, so did I. But we found a way out. We got through some tough shit together, but I wouldn’t change a damn thing. He’s my entire world, and I know I’m his.”

Reaching over, I gripped her hand and squeezed hard. “You are very lucky, Beauty. I envy what you have.” She squeezed my hand right back and leaned in to kiss me on my cheek.

“So, Rider, what about you?” Letti asked as she glanced down at Rider on the floor.

He tipped back his head, his brown eyes bright. “What?”

“Been in love? In the years you’ve been with the Hangmen, I’ve never even seen you even pick up a slut. Got some bitch you pining for somewhere?”

Rider bowed his head and muttered, “No, no bitch, anywhere.”

“You want to be with someone you love,” I whispered knowingly.

Turning to face me, he shrugged his uninjured shoulder and ducked his eyes. “Way I was raised. Can’t shake it. My momma used to quote something all the damn time. Can’t seem to get it outta my head. Love is patient. Love is kind…’”

“It does not envy. It does not boast. It is not proud,” I whispered.

Rider’s eyes looked up, softened and he shifted all the way around to face me. “It does not dishonor others. It is not self-seeking. It is not easily angered. It keeps no record of wrongs.”

“Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

We recited the scripture back and forth until the last line, when he spoke these words: “And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.”

Our eyes locked, our bodies unmoving, as the words took hold. He was just like me.

Lord, he was just like me… I did not know…

Letti shattered the moment. “What the f**k’re you two talking about?”

Coughing, Rider met Letti’s gaze. “It’s from the Bible, Letti. We were quoting scripture. First Corinthians.”

“Hell, I know Mae’s from some damn nut-job cult, but I didn’t know you were too!”

I flinched at Letti’s words. Nut-job cult? Is that what they all thought of me?

Rider gave nothing away. He never talked about where he had come from or how he had been raised. I was desperate to know. The fact that Rider was like me made me feel as if I had a friend, someone who truly understood. What I could not understand was why he was here, a part of a club like this, one of the Hangmen. Styx had told me himself that the brothers kill, trade in guns, use violence on an everyday basis. I could not see how that life fit with his faith. But then again, I concluded that he was just like me. I no longer wanted to be bound by my faith’s rigid bonds. I wanted to try new things, move on from that stifling existence. Part of me was not even sure I believed in a God anymore. Then again, hearing Rider recite that verse made me feel safe, whole again. Ugh! I just did not know who or what I was without The Order, without the duties of being a sister.

Beauty instantly jumped to her feet, looking down at me, smiling, but I could see it was forced. Her blue eyes were tight and she kept glancing to Rider on the floor.

“Come on, Mae. Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“We should leave Rider to rest. Now, come on!” Her voice raised in volume to emphasise what she wanted me to do.

“Oh, yes. Rider, I am sorry. We have probably outstayed our welcome. We should—”

“You haven’t outstayed your welcome.” He interrupted.

I paused; relieved, I sat back down. “Thank you.”