The Lost Trucker (The Trucker Saga) (18 page)

BOOK: The Lost Trucker (The Trucker Saga)
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I became addicted to the thrill of war. Now, my blades have lain dormant for years, itching to be used again. But much has changed in the world around me. Though I have spent many years in it, the passage of time has left me and my blades untouched.

I lived to be by Sarre’s side as she existed to serve me. But years later, in modern times, I bumped into Kira. And all that I wished for was Kira’s voice, her touch, her everything to be a part of my life. Of course, from years of being the only woman in my life Sarre had gotten a jealously streak in her that drove her to do everything in her power to break us up.
     

Selfishly Sarre wanted me all to herself. I suppose looking back on it all now, I could understand. Yet while it was happening I felt like it was the greatest betrayal I had ever known, and because of our link to one another, there was no true way for me to escape her. That is to be expected when you are eternally bonded though…right?

When her plan to split us up didn’t work she annoyed me night and day, never seizing in her relentless rants. Thus the drinking began in hopes that the poison would weaken our bond and drive Sarre away. Sadly due to my human side I formed a real addiction to it, and that drove Kira away from me.

This all transpired about six months ago. After three months of me blaming and then ignoring Sarre, she left. I was alone all over again with only the different forms of my poison, and the lazy Daisy to comfort me.

 

I felt like I was finally at peace, but in the worst possible way. Because of my love for Kira I was torn all up on the inside and lonely. Because of my bond with Sarre I was spiritually lost. In some sick way I was happy to know that Sarre was back.

Of course I would never let her know that. And years ago I had learned how to block her out of most of my thoughts, so that I could feel like I had somewhat of a personal life instead of having this spiritual and emotional leech surviving through me.   Having her live 'through' me was downright creepy at times and I liked my personal space every now and again. I suppose if you were dead, any life is a life rather than no life at all, no emotion and no bonds.

Sarre pursed her lips together from the other side of the room.

“You’re hiding something from me. You cut yourself off to me.” She whined. I rolled my eyes. I 
was
, but I seriously didn’t want her knowing how happy I was to see her again. I turned down the volume on the television before shutting it off and throwing the remote onto the black marble coffee table. Yeah… I had a poorly insulated apartment but it and the things within it were actually really nice.            

My
 
car
 on the other hand was a hand-me-down P.O.S., I really needed to trade it in. Or even junk it and get a new one, but that required work. I had the money, I lacked the ambition.

I never claimed to have my priorities straight.

I stood up from the couch to my full six foot four inch height. I’m not just well defined and toned; I’m that sort of muscular body type that isn’t sick to look at.

 
           I recently shaved my hair. I have an odd Mohawk. One straight down the middle of my skull bleached white. And two running along its sides black as ebony. Each lines of hair no more than two inches tall and an inch apart. I called it a Moe-fro or fro-hawk. I had two large gauges in my ears and one labret piercing that in strenuous situations, or when deep in thought, I would chew on.

 
           I was shirtless as usual, showing off my dark skin and numerous scars. I was in the comfort of my own home after all, though admittedly, I did it whenever I felt like it. Today I wore huge leather biker boots and a pair of tight blue jeans complete with a studded belt and a thin chain wallet.

 
           I never did get into that whole hanging-off-your-butt-jean wearing fad that most of the United States youth had become accustomed to.

 
           “Not really.” I said in my normal deep and throaty tone.

 
           “Yes you 
are
. Tell me that you missed Sarre… Come on, darling Angel, you
know
 you did.” She sounded so pitiful as she halfway begged me.

 
           “Nope.” I muttered heading to the kitchen. I didn’t just want a beer now, I
needed
 it. Or at least that is what I told myself on my mini adventure into the next room.

 
           “You did and you know it. You need me and you just don’t want to admit it!” She started to get angry again. Just like a woman, even dead her mood swings gave me a head ache.

 
           “Uh…” I twisted off the top and stared at the ceiling like I was seriously contemplating the thought. “Nah… Still got nothing.” I said with a grin.

 
           My back was to her so she couldn’t see my smile. This was going to turn ugly again or she was going to start apologizing. I highly doubted the latter of the two.

 
           “You are impossible, Angel. The woman you love left you and your soul mate followed thereafter and you won’t admit that you missed me one 
bit
!” She actually stomped her tiny metaphysical foot onto the floor in her little tizzy rage.

 
           “Oh for the love of 
Pete
, Sarre! Get off your high horse, it’s not like I need you to wipe my ass for me or anything. Besides… It’s 
your
 fault Kira left me anyways! And you are more of a 
cursed
 soul mate!” I wasn’t holding back in my tone anymore and I could hear my voice carry in the small kitchen.

 
           Just like that we were right back to where we were three months ago. The blame game.

 
           “Screw you, Angel! You need me, you missed me and you know that it is your fault that she left. You were too good for that stuck up harlot any way.” She growled angrily to me.    

I shot her a look that if it could kill and if she were alive, she would be laying in a pool of blood on my kitchen floor.

            “Take that 
back
. Kira was not that kind of woman.” My tone was careful and filled with warning.

 
           “No… I don’t think I 
will
.” Her sarcasm dripped from every word.

 
           “Take it back!” I actually yelled it out so loud that she jumped. As if I could have caused her physical pain she stepped away from me with eyes wide with fear for a split second. It was a bit much on my part, but I was tired, fed up and just overall exhausted. The sad thing was I had done nothing in my day to even justify any of the stated. I just was. Then again, I always seemed to be that way, especially more so since Kira left.

 
           I felt bad then for yelling at Sarre, I could chase away the rest of the world. I could watch countless lives dissipate before my very eyes, but Sarre was forever mine. She stood by my side, defended me, even when I didn't deserve it. So why was I punishing her? Because she was jealous?

 
           Sarre looked away from me with a frown. “
Fine,
 whatever… I take it back.” She grumbled crossing her arms over her chest again. I knew that she didn’t mean it, but for now it would have to do.

 

BOOK: The Lost Trucker (The Trucker Saga)
12.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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