June drives out of the college parking lot and sobs the whole time. Her stereo playing a CD of how to cope with not loving your spouse. This couple has major problems.

“Jesus, turn that shit off.” I wave the scissors towards the stereo. Her fingers stab at the dash until the sound of the woman’s clinical voice cuts off.

Riding in silence I can’t help but wonder why she’s with the professor if she’s so unhappy. Why not let him run off with Farrah or one of the other school girls?

“Why do you stay with him?” I can’t help but ask.

Her shoulders rise as she inhales a shaky breath.

“It’s a long story,” she murmurs under her breath.

“I like long stories,” I lie. I’m more intrigued by other humans and the stupid things they do.

She takes a left, the car hitting a pothole causing the scissors to press into her head a little harder than I intend.

She hisses grabbing at her hurt ear.

“Shit sorry,” I mutter, and I pull them back.

“He was the cute new guy at the college, and I had just started volunteering there. We hooked up in the library one night after classes were over, and six weeks later I found out I was pregnant.”

She looks in the rearview mirror, her eyes holding more sadness in them than I’ve seen before. Now I just feel sad for her.

“My dad demanded he marry me as he didn’t want our family name to be mocked as he ran for governor.”

“Dads can be controlling,” I speak from experience.

“You have no idea,” she scoffs.

“Story for another time,” I clip, resting in the back seat comfortably. This car is nice, nicer than anything I’ve been in before. I slide my hand along the smooth leather wondering if I’ll ever have a car like it. A baby to sit in the back seat. If I’ll play house with Benji.

“So, you got knocked up and married an asshole?” I look back at her, wondering if her story is over.

“I lost the baby and am stuck with the asshole. Michael knows too much of what my father does for my dad to let him walk away.” She shakes her head, and the ride to her house falls silent.

It’d be easy for me to tell her what I would do, but I know what it’s like living a life of crime and secrets.

You have no life. Your life becomes the sin and secrets, they run the river of darkness around your little happiness.

June drives her Range Rover into the garage of her house and places it in park. Looking out the tinted back seat window it looks as if she just moved in. There’s no tools on the wall, a workbench or anything of lawn maintenance. The garage is clean, not even a grease stain on the floor.

“Did you just move here?” I can’t help but ask.

“No, I just… I don’t like clutter,” she replies with a raspy voice, her silky hands white-knuckling the steering wheel. Oh, I bet she’s a peach to live with. If she saw my room at the club, she’d pass out.

“Hmm,” I smile. “Get out.” I tap her head with the scissors and she whimpers before fumbling with the door handle. She scares easily, I like it.

Getting out, she stands there looking at me as if she’s lost. Like a kid dropped off at daycare for the very first time.

“Well, let’s go inside?” I prompt her with irritation laced in my voice.

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and heads to a white door on the left. Stepping inside the house we walk into an immaculate kitchen. The hardwood floors are clean without so much as a single scratch marking them, and the marble counters are clear of any cooking utensils or food. She must have some OCD or something as I’ve never seen a place so clean. Then again, I live with a bunch of bikers.

My eyes fall on the one thing on the counter next to the stove; a knife block with tall sharp looking knives. I glance at my current weapon. I should upgrade. I can’t believe this, I have a gun back in my dorm room. With the scissors pointing at her, I head to the knives and grab the biggest one out of the wooden block. The blade scratches amongst the block as I release it from its holding. It’s so clean and shiny I can see my reflection clearly in it.

“Sit!” I demand, pointing to a high back chair next to a long wooden dining table.

She heads over to the chair and sits down, her legs crossed. I run my hands along the back of one of the chairs. It’s covered with cloth, not like the metal chairs at the club.

“This is nice,” I admire. Soft too. It looks like something that would belong at a vanity rather than a kitchen table.

“Th-thanks.” She gives me a weak smile. I can tell she doesn’t want to be nice to me, and I don’t blame her for it.

“You don’t have to be fake with me, you won’t offend me. In fact, it’s the fake people that don’t scare me, it’s the genuine ones. They’re the ones that slip past your walls and get close to you. Loyal people know your weakness,” I state from experience. Benji, he’s the one person that scares the shit out of me because he knows me so well. Ones like him get caught in a web of passion that have you not walking away from them so easily.

I start rummaging through drawers looking for something to tie June up with when I hear her clear her throat.

“You don’t have to do this. Nobody has to get hurt,” she implores with a whiny voice. I chuckle, as I pull open another drawer. Duct tape, bingo! We use this for everything at the club.

Grabbing it, I head over to her fancy ivory chair.

“Sit back,” I instruct, and she quickly obeys. Placing the knife in between my teeth, I snatch her hands up from her lap, placing her palm to palm before wrapping the tape around her wrists. When I’m done I place them back in her lap and then tape her body to the chair so she can’t escape.

Done, I blow the hair from my face and look at my artwork.

“Aren’t you going to tape my mouth?” she asks with confusion.

I raise a brow. “How are you going to call Daddy if I have your mouth taped shut?” I raise a brow. Her big blue eyes flash with panic before looking elsewhere.

My eyes skim down her frame, she’s so in shape and pretty. She could have anyone, it’s sad she has to try and love the man she’s with. The risqué shoes on her feet grab my attention and I step closer to get a better look. They’re black with red underneath them. Like the kind I see celebrities wearing in magazines. Not being able to leave the club much, Benji would bring me new magazines every month so I wouldn’t be bored. I would scour the pages circling things I’d love to wear, or have one day and those black shoes… was one of the things I’ve circled a few times. I’m not much for heels, but those are just so damn sexy I’d pet them every day in my closet. Bending over, I grab one and jerk it from her foot.

“What size are you?” I question, looking the shoe over. It’s a Jimmy Choo, it must have cost a fortune. “I’ve never worn heels before,” I say more to myself than her, but she doesn’t respond.

“Take them, you- you can have them,” she insists with vulnerable eyes. “I have a whole closet you can have if you let me go.”

I roll my eyes at her, she can’t buy me with shoes.

“Unless you have a closet full of leather boots, your ass is stuck in that chair,” I inform her. I hold the shoe up. “This just happens to be the only kind of heel I’m interested in and not to wear.”

She blinks a few times like I’m an idiot.

“You’re not even going to wear them?”

“I mean, I might… I don’t know,” I shrug, looking the slick shoe over. I’d need to practice walking in them because knowing my luck I’d try and act sexy for Benji and fall on my face.

“Honey? Are you in here?” the panicked voice of Professor Prescott echoes through the house as he looks for his wife. I drop the shoe to the ground and quickly hide beside the fridge until he walks in. Knife in my hand I palm it tightly, my teeth clenched tightly as I wait for him to walk past.

“June?” He looks at his tied-up wife in confusion. I quietly step up behind him like a snake slithering up to his prey and pinch the spine of his back with the tip of the sharp knife.

“Don’t fucking move!” I warn, and he freezes. His arms raise like I have a gun, and I smile. The scent of him whirls around me. Erasers, marker, and hand sanitizer. He smells what I would imagine a kindergarten room would smell like. It’s repulsive. His hair is slicked back and his face is clean shaven like a baby’s ass. What does Farrah see in this tool?

“Go sit beside your wife,” I instruct, waving the knife toward June.

“Farrah… let’s talk about this,” he suggests with a calm voice. Like lightning, anger strikes my chest violently. I fist his hair with my free hand roughly, his neck popping with my harsh force.

“There’s nothing to fucking talk about and stop calling me fucking Farrah. I’m Harley, understand?” I breathe into his ear.

“Okay, okay,” he hisses with pain. I tug his hair one more time before I let go. Using my foot, I kick him in the back, shoving him forward.

“Move it!” I roar.

He rubs his back before stumbling over to the chair next to June.

“I can explain,” he whispers to her.

“Save it.” She rolls her eyes, looking the other way.

Grabbing the tape, I tape him up just like June. He sits there without a fight, looking at June with puppy dog eyes.

“Wow, not even going to try and fight me, huh?” I ask with surprise.

“I don’t hit women,” he sneers. He pulls his eyes away from his wife and looks up at me with defiant eyes.

“You pussy,” I laugh, I was hoping he’d struggle just a little bit. I’d like to test out if I could take a man down or not. “You guys really are making this too easy.”

“Is this about us because I thought I was—”

“Oh, shut up, Michael. This has nothing to do with you throwing your prick to easy college girls!” June screams, her face turning red. I stand back and cross my arms. I’m impressed she’s standing up for herself. It’s like a fucked-up version of couples counseling.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he acts offended.

“Oh, don’t act like you haven’t been trying to sleep with this girl.” She tilts her head to the other side, the sight of Michael too much for her.

He looks up at me for a lifeline, for the poor man can’t figure out why he and his pretend wife are tied to a chair.

“This has nothing to do with you, this has everything to do with June and her father though,” I sigh, placing my hands on my hips. The professor looks at his wife with a blank stare.

“You’re kidding,” he mutters almost angrily.

“Daddy owes her club money,” June shrugs.

He slumps against the chair and shakes his head.

“Go figure,” he grumbles. His head snaps to my direction. “Then what does this have to do with me? Why am I here? I have nothing to do with her dad.”

My mouth drops. “I don’t know, I thought maybe you’d want to fight in your wife’s honor, die together, some romantic crap.” I swing the knife around as I explain my actions. To be honest, I wanted him here in-case I needed him for bait.

Crossing my arms, I tilt my head to the side and observe the two mysterious people in front of me.

“I bet if I let you go right now, you’d run and leave June behind. Wouldn’t you?” I ask with curiosity. He glances at June before looking the other way. He would, he’d run and never look back. As if there was nothing between them, and they didn’t create life together at one point. Even couples who divorce later keep a respectful relationship due to their past. At least, that’s what I read in magazines.

“Wow, you really are a piece of shit.” I’m astonished.

“That’s not what you were saying the other day,” he mocks. He must be talking about Farrah.

“Did we fuck?” I mindlessly ask, this grabs June’s attention.

His eyes widen. “No, but I was going –”

June doesn’t let him finish his sentence before she starts rocking her chair in his direction. Her teeth clashing and nostrils flaring with rage, she wants to claw his eyes out. She still loves him, if she didn’t she wouldn’t be so upset.

“Oh fuck off, if you weren’t such a princess, maybe I wouldn’t have to stick my dick somewhere else!” He rolls his eyes.

Before I know it, they’re in a screaming match. Again.

Closing my eyes, I feel emotional, sad, and the voice of Farrah in my head. I turn, my hands grabbing at the air as I feel for the counter. My vision is blurring and my stomach coils into a tight knot.

“No, not now,” I tell myself. It does no good, black begins to stain my vision. These two hurting inside and each other is making my emotions roll inside of me like an unstoppable tide.

Michael and June screaming at each other makes my head go foggy and I have to fall on top of the counter to keep from falling face first into it.