Taboo: Bittersweet Revenge (Sequel)

Devil's Advocate

...............................

Breathe, Noah. Just breathe. I repeated those words of encouragement to myself as I push the helmet off my head and lay across my lap. It's hard to describe how I felt at that moment. Despite what just happened, I'm not angry, I'm not even pissed off. I don't know has what gotten into me....wait, I take that back. I know what it was, it's this creepy cocktail serum running through my veins.

My reaction was purely based off peak adrenaline. The alcohol only added fuel to my fire. And that might just be the reason that's sent me over the over edge night. It's like I had all the energy in the world and couldn't contain for a moment longer.

Since my body recovered much faster than expected, just 2 weeks after birth, I've filled my days with nonstop, physically demanding workouts, in between caring for baby Raeven. But what does walking away solve? I used to fight my battles head on and kick them in the ass.

And it's all fine and well, chasing up leads across the country, I knew I had to tone down the dials on the 'shoot from the hip' mentality. I had a son to think about. A son that that I preyed and preyed for, and thought I'd never be blessed with.

Now there's something that gave me renewed look on my life. My son deserves the best future possible. And I wanted to be there witness my son grow up. He was going to be my vice. He was reason I resist the urge to aim a glock in my mouth every morning and pull the damn trigger.

Christian and I were blessed with healthy baby boy, a child I wanted I longed for and a child he never got to hold in his arms. This was a sign to the both of us that egos needed to be checked at the door, for Raeven's sake.

But after the way I reacted tonight, I feared our chances of experiencing a norm life together just went down the drain. Something simply exploded within my mind. Its the difficult thing to explain, let alone try to controlled.

This entire situation is too fucked up to even explain, nor should I attempt to justify what the hell is happening in my life. What it all boiled down to, what the defining factor was that's driving me insane was awaiting Christian true reaction. That's all I wanted from him. An honest answer.

The one question I had for him above all else, 'what now?'. What did he want from this situation? Does he have any interest in sticking with me, or was he prepared to walk? I've waited and waited almost a month for his answer, and I gave him all the space I knew he needed without requesting it.

And that entire month felt like an eternity because everyday presented a new psychological barrier I had to overcome. One day I'd feel on top of the world and tearing it up in the gym, the next, I'm staring down the end of a gun barrel. I managed to experience every point of that spectrum for a damn month because I'm psychologically tormented by the grueling wait!

Pausing my thoughts momentarily, I slapped my cheeks and took in a series of deep breaths, bouncing my foot on the pavement. The bounce in my step unknowingly began to orchestrate itself, syncretizing the steps to my strong heartbeat. My other leg still felt like it had been hit my freight train.

Pain or no pain, I was glad I felt some type of physical emotion, even if its bad. Once I manage to clear my head for only a solitary moments slide off the bike I'd parked in front of a moderately quiet liquor store, my natural habitat.

With my helmet still in my hand, I cross over to the liquor store on the other side of road, with a moderate limp to my walk. But as I approach, I hear an alarming yell for help coming from inside the convenience store next door. Picking up my pace without the risk of hurting myself, I approach the store, and quickly realize the problem.