I’ve got a bad habit of leaving, and this time is no different. I’m already putting in the distance, putting that fucking space between us. I’ve got one foot here and the other on the road, ready to go.
The way I grew up and the life I’ve lived, it’s what I fucking do, and I don’t usually regret it. But this time it’s different. This time, leaving isn’t fucking easy.
I know leaving her this time will be harder than any other because I won’t be coming back. Unlike every other time, I had the next run through to look forward to, but not now.
We need a clean break.
Watching the car burn with that asshole inside it, his body melted to the seat, bloody and bullet riddled, was fucking satisfying. It’s over. Done and fucking over with.
Out back, alone, I turn when I hear her feet brushing along the gravel.
“King?” Samantha says softly, leaning into my side, her head on my arm. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, baby. I’d do it again.”
“You saved my life.” There are emotions in her eyes I don’t wanna see, don’t wanna feel. They’re too much. Too real. Too raw. “Thank you.”
“Don’t.” I don’t need or want her thanks. She knew I’d do it for her, knew I’d always be here for her when she needed me.
“Don’t thank you?” She laughs, the sound uncomfortable and stiff. “But you saved me.”
Saved her from that asshole, but who the fuck’s gonna save her from me?
“Just doin’ my job,” I tell her bluntly and hate how she flinches, my words hurting.
She frowns at me, her eyes narrowed. “A job? So, this was a job? I was a job?” She’s always been so much more and she knows it. Knows she’s the only real thing in my world. The woman has been my life for the last eleven goddamn years, the only good thing in my pointless existence. The only thing I had to look forward to. She might not realize it, but I’ve lived for her for a long goddamn time, yet I know it’s time to cut that shit off. We can’t keep doing this, especially now.
“Just a job, baby,” I tell her simply, nodding.
I just can’t live like this anymore, being here for a few days and looking forward to coming back as soon as I leave for the rest of the year. It’s not good for me, and it’s sure as fuck not good for her because that’s all it’ll ever be, me dropping in once or twice a year and giving her a fuck of a lifetime. Samantha needs more, deserves more, and I can’t give that to her. It’s not in me.
“Wow,” she breathes, moving away from me and wrapping her arms around herself. “I…uh, I don’t know what to say to that shit.”
I don’t know what to say about it either. I’m an asshole. A fucking dick, and it’s good she knows that now.
“Are you leaving then since your job’s over?” She’s mad, putting up that wall, and I know the only way she seals that shit up is to lie to her.
“Not sure.”
“You’re not sure?”
“Might hang around for a while.” Biggest lie I’ve ever told her. My bags are packed and I’m already gone.
“Sammy?” T shouts out the back door of the club.
She looks back at him, holding up her finger, then looks back at me, her blue eyes full of hope. “So, you’ll be here when I get back?”
“Yeah.”
Her shoulders relax, and it’s painful to watch. She thinks I’m staying, and it brings her comfort to think it. Jesus Christ, I’m the biggest piece of shit alive because I add one more lie to the fire. “I’ll see you in a little bit, yeah?”
She smiles. It’s cautious, but real. “Yeah.”
I watch her walk away and know it’s the last goddamn time.