M.N.Forgy

I'm crazy, deranged, and psychotic. Half the time I'm out of my mind and feel as if my life isn't even mine. Being diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder, it's an accurate description of myself.
Born an MC brat, my only dream is to wear the colors of my father's club, The Shadow Keepers. To feel the weight of the warm leather press across my back, and to be a part of something with purpose.

It wasn't until the last drop of blood dripped from my fingertips and the gun smoke faded into the night sky that I realized what was really important to me.
Him.
In a blink of an eye, I lost it all. I lost him.

There's no such thing as a Free Ride in life, and our story is an example of that.

Free Ride is created by M.N.Forgy, an eGlobal Creative Publishing Signed Author.

Free Ride

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. 


Chapter 34