“Alright, you bastard. You want me? You can have me.”

Leaving is never my strong suit. I’m not one of those men who says goodbye, hugs it out for two hours, and cries. I’m silent. I’m mysterious. Most of all, I move on fast.

Well, usually I do. Today, however, has been fucking rough. I can’t get Erica off my mind. When I close my eyes, I see her body. When I listen, I hear her voice. There are memories I will never forget, such as her lips around my cock, eyes squinting with a smile as she pulls it back out, like the naughty girl she is.

God dammit, she was wild. She was totally insane. And that’s why I wanted her so bad. She offered me something no woman could before. She was on my level.

I hope she uses the money well. She deserves it. Anyway, I don’t need it. I’ve got too much cash to fly with, right now. This morning, my realtor told me on the phone he thinks I can get 2.5 million dollars for this house. Then there’s the car and the toys, and everything else I own. If it’s money that Hawk wants, he can have it. I’ve got plenty to spare. Something tells me that’s not all he’s after.

It’s not long before I’m at the airport, booking a late flight to London. “First class,” I tell the lady. She takes one look at my black credit card and nods. “Yes, there’s a flight going out today, actually. One seat available, but you’ll have to pay a little extra.”

Sure. Take it all. I don’t care anymore.

I grab my ticket and head through security. A woman in line turns around and smiles at me. I smile back and she actually touches my thigh. In my head, I see Erica. I can picture her standing with me. We’re travelling the world together. We’re making a new life with each other. We have a child and we’re bloody happy.

“Sir? You’re passport, please.”

I wake up from my dream. “Oh, right. Sorry,” I mutter. I hand him my passport and my bags, and I get through. The airport is a nightmare zone, but when I’m on my flight, I can breathe a little easier.

The flight so far is smooth and calm. After a whiskey or two, I fall asleep. When I’m dreaming, she’s there. Erica, the woman I can’t stand to be away from. It’s that same dream I keep having of her. We’re close to each other, we’re smiling, and we’re free. The sun is shining and we’re in our house together, in the countryside of England. Our little boy is running in the fields, screaming as he flies a kite. I’m right there with him. We’re older in this dream, but all feels right.

Of course, this is just fantasy. That’s never going to happen. I’m never going to live a life with Erica. I’ll never see her again. Time will move forward and so will she. She’ll find a new husband and have the best damn life she’s ever had. I’ll be stuck, managing Hawk’s “business.”

Come tomorrow, I’ll be without her.

* * *

Weeks pass and I keep my cool. I try not to think about her. I try my damn hardest not to care. Eventually, you just keep walking. You focus on your rhythm and you tell yourself, “It’s okay. This is life.”

Weeks in a flat alone, I have no one to talk to and nowhere to go. Eventually, I work up the courage to go and see Hawk. I walk onto the block and a gang of children, none of them older than nineteen, greets me. Some are younger. They stand there, arms crossed, waiting to hear me speak. I forgot what it was like here. These kids are young, but they’re ruthless and unaffected by any kind of fear.

“Came to see Hawk,” I mutter, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

“Bit of a poofter, innit?” one of them asks. They all laugh. It’s the equivalent of calling me a pussy. I’m not amused.

“I remember when I was in your shoes,” I laugh. “On the streets, bangin’ away. Me and my mates, the knackered and pissed.”

“Wasteman,” one of them says. “I suggest you fucking put your head down and leave.”

I simply laugh and take a step forward. I may be a nice sight to look at, but I’m not afraid of these children. I’ve suffered through the worst fights. “Hawk. Send him to me.”

“Piss off!” the boy yells. They all step around me, ready to give me the fight of my life.

I hear a pair of footsteps and every single person turns around. “There you are,” I say. “Hawk.”

“You came back,” he says, nodding. “I’m a bit surprised. Miss me?”

“It was about time,” I say. Erica. She flashes in my mind. It was the worst timing ever.

He doesn’t say anything back. He just continues to stare. The kids are waiting on him to react.

“Anyway, are you proper skint?” British slang, meaning are you broke? “I’ve got your money.”

I hold out a small briefcase. “There’s sixty large inside. I have a million coming your way in about a week,” I say.

“Not here,” he mutters. “Come. Follow me.” We circle around the block, until we reach a familiar door. He knocks a few times and the guys open it for him. We step inside and walk through a red hallway. Soon enough, we’re in his office.

“I can’t believe this place still exists,” I smile. “Brings back memories.”

“Let’s get down to business,” he sighs. “Are you back? Because I don’t want to have to cut off any fingers.” There’s a few seconds pause before he bursts out laughing.

“Fucking hell,” I laugh a little.

“It’s a joke. Calm down. We’re even,” he says. But I know in my heart we’re not even. I’ll have to stay here. I’ll have to work for him again. I’ll have to give up everything I once had, and everything I could have had.

Erica. A house. A life. We could have had a kid. We could have been something beautiful.

But inside my heart, I’m ugly. I know I am. My choices are all fucking wrong. My demons are large. This is my punishment. This is what I get for thinking I could run the world my way.

“So,” he exhales. “Welcome home, Walker.”