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He knows what I am—death. Ryder might be the face, Garret might be the enforcer, the muscle, and Kenzo the dealer…but me? I’m the fucking Grim Reaper.
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.
It loses its fun after a while—all that fear. Just once, I want someone to match me, to not burn in my fire, but be reborn in it.
They aren’t knights in shining armour, no, they are the villains in the dark, with brooding eyes and beast-like tendencies. I never needed a knight. I needed a body to stand with me in the dark, and these snakes? They do.
Those who love us have the opportunity to hurt us the worst, and in my experience, they always do.
For a boy who lost everything to a man who lived in fire and blood, Little Bird is my freedom. My second chance. My love.
When you find love, you hold on hard. It’s a fragile little thing, and once it’s gone, it leaves a hole and memories, we all know that. Ones you wish you could relive, but from every love, you learn something. Something important. From my mother, I learned to be strong. From my father, I learned to embrace pain. From Rich, I learned to love while it lasts and that endings aren’t always a bad thing. From my Vipers, I learned love is unconditional and can come at the strangest of times and places.
And from myself? I learned it’s okay to love yourself. Even the darkest parts of you. No matter the shape, size, or weirdness you came with. Embrace your scars and never be ashamed to be who you are, because there is only one of you. And if you don’t love you, how can anyone else?
