The Rampage MC #3: Atlas and Joy

Chapter 5 (Joy): Don't Cry

"But as if to knock me down, reality came around, and without so much as a mere touch cut me in to little pieces." ~Alone Again, Naturally, Gilbert O'Sullivan

I was tired. I was tired of constantly having to listen, to understand, to help, to give. Tired of being the butt of jokes, the target of nasty comments.

"I'm tired," I said out loud, needing to hear my voice admit to what my heart had known for a while.

I'd never been so tired in my life. Tired of carrying everyone's burdens that they dumped on me because they knew I'd handle it. Tired of scrambling for my place in the world, tired of putting my dreams on hold. Tired of always being the one looking out for everyone else and no one being willing to return the favor and look out for me. I wasn't even asking for forever, just for five minutes every once in a while so I could catch my breath.

Tired, tired, motherfucking tired.

I'd hoped I was heading to a good place with Kit -- given that his road name was Atlas, I thought that was a sign he understood carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. I thought we'd been forging a connection all the months he'd been sneaking into my room at night. We had sex, yes, but then he'd pull me close and hold me in his arms and we'd talk until we fell asleep. I'd never felt so safe, even if I'd been uncomfortable with the sneaking around.

Figuring out things actually weren't heading there with Kit  just took time. The three awful, unhealthy relationships I'd had in the past hadn't lasted past three or four months, so I wasn't an expert by any means as to what healthy looked like. But being with Kit felt so different than anything I'd experienced before, so much better...despite the things that gave me pause and made me question Kit's intentions. Every relationship had challenges, and those things that bothered me were part of ours. Right?

Wrong.

That first day after I'd hurt my ankle, Beard had assigned Kit to drive me to the medical supply store for my knee scooter. Instead of arguing, I'd decided it would be a good thing. I knew he'd have questions -- and then explanations -- but I wasn't interested. We could tie up what had been with a neat little bow and put it behind us.

That was the first day I was tired.

He held open the car door, and I sunk into the seat without accepting the hand he held out to me. The poor man kept shooting me tentative smiles, expecting me to live up to my name and beam one back at him. He was doomed to disappointment.

"I thought a car would be easier than a truck." 

"Or a bike," I said, keeping my tone neutral.

"You couldn't go on a bike with your foot like that," he'd said, falling neatly into my trap.

"I couldn't go on a bike regardless," I reminded him.

"Joy, are you going to tell me why you changed the code to your room?" he asked as we drove away from the clubhouse.

Should people that clueless be allowed to drive or operate heavy machinery? I pulled up Facebook on my phone, went to the MC's page and turned it around so he could see the picture at the first red light we came to.

"You said you never danced. Ever. Either someone did an amazing job of photoshopping you and Brandie together or you lied to me. Survey says...it's a lie!"

He started to object, but I was on a roll. "Let's move on to the next lie. You promised you'd help me move my little brother, then club business happened and you dialed it back to you'd help with the big stuff. We waited for you for the big stuff, but you never showed when you said you would, you didn't answer my call or texts...and so Kilian and I had to do it alone. As a result of having to hurry to finish so he could get to work, I hurt myself. Maybe that's not on you, but I'm blaming you anyway because it sure as hell wasn't club business keeping you away. It was a club party."