Den of Vipers
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I slide into bed and draw her into my arms.
It feels natural, right. But it’s strange. I never sleep with women, never mind cuddle, but I want to. And when she drops her head onto my chest and slips into sleep with quiet, cute snores leaving her lips, I can’t help but close my eyes and drift off, pulling her closer.
What is she doing to me?
Sometimes in life, you meet people worth dying for, and they are usually the same people who are also worth living for. But you can’t always have both. If all I can offer them now is my silence and death, I’ll do it.
Love, love is enduring. Love is blind. Love is messy and so perfect, we search our entire lives for it, even when we think we aren’t. I guess I wasn’t either, but I found it anyway in the form of four criminals. Their hearts as dark as their souls.
I can’t wait to watch her rip the others to pieces, to get into their cold hearts like she has mine. We will all burn together.
Because of one woman.
Our woman.
There, on his chest, right over his heart, is a bird.
The bird sits on his pec, perched on a coiled viper. They both look so lifelike, I ache to touch them to see if they’re real. The bird is standing there, so brave and unafraid of the snake, its beak held high, and the snake? It’s wrapped around it, not restraining it…keeping it.
Me and him.
The crazy bastard got a tattoo of us over his heart.
I realise I left my phone on the desk. I freeze. Me? Leaving my phone? Unheard of. But as I’m about to go back and get it, she grabs my hand and leads me downstairs to where the others are waiting.
I soon forget about it again. It’s my first night off…ever.
I like it. Especially with her perched on my knee, sharing my food, a beer in one hand, and a smile on my face as Diesel tells his stories for the day, making her laugh along with us.
It’s nice.
It’s home.
When you’re a kid, they tell you stories of monsters hiding under your bed or in the dark. They don’t tell you of the very real human ones. Those who prey on people weaker than them, or even the monsters that hide within ourselves.
Rich or poor, it doesn’t matter, humans are still monsters. They hide behind pretty faces, loved ones, blood. Yet they are all the same. They all want you for something, the difference is…how far they’re willing to go to get it.
It seems the Vipers will go all the way.