You know the last place I thought I’d be right now is bent over a ratty green couch being fucked in the back of a tattoo parlor on the south side of Chicago.
I ignore Arnie, the tattoo artist slamming into me from behind. My attention is fixed on what’s between my fingers, a rusted blade coated in blow and my blood. As the tip digs deeper, piercing my thin skin of my inner wrist, I realize there is no turning back. No. There’s no turning back.
The hell I call my life will cease to exist with one hard swipe of the blade and I’m glad for it.
Like a scratch that needs to be itched, I run the edge of the blade along the clean unmarred part of my skin and realize there’s no pain. I’m not sure if it’s from the over indulgence of booze and drugs into my system, or the simple fact that for the first time in a year, I finally have control. Control of the blade cutting a cross my skin. Control of what I want for my future. Control of my own body.
It started out harmless and I didn’t mean to cut so deep. I only intended to draw a little blood, yet a rivulet of red flows down my arm and drips onto the dirty grey speckled linoleum with purpose. I watch each drop leave a splatter mark like one of those Jackson Pollack paintings and wonder who’ll clean up all this blood…because it won’t be me.
It won’t be me fighting off the men who think they have the god-given right to put their hands on me. It won’t be me dealing with the Chicago PD for the fucked up shit that goes on in the precinct. And, it won’t be me seeing my failure in my mother’s eyes.
Watching my life fall drop by drop onto the floor, deliriously happy and unconcern about the mess I’m making, Arnie’s voice cuts through the delirium of my mind.
“What the fuck, Brenna,” Arnie’s panic words confuses me as he quickly pulls out and clamps both hands around my slit wrist with force. “Damn it. We need to call the ambulance.”
I’m not sure why he’s upset—and who’s we?
The booze and drugs are doing its job, I feel nothing. And the pain in my heart is all but ebbed into a tiny fissure that will soon be forgotten. My fully inked back is another story. But I’m sure that stinging ache will go away too. Once I’m dead.
I seriously don’t care what happens next. I’m finally letting go of the anger and humiliation this past year have brought me. My dream of becoming a detective is dead because someone—no, not someone, but two motherfucking cops from my precinct.
Not only did the two dickwads ruined my career by trying to tag-team me in the men’s locker room, but my father’s name—a name I held with such high esteem is nothing but mud now.
“Sorry Daddy,” I whisper through the tears I don’t realize I’m shedding. My legs give out and I collapse onto the floor.
Arnie’s frantic shouts fade away, leaving behind a buzz, like frenzied bees in my ears. The fluorescent bulbs overhead begins to dim in and out as I fight to keep my eyelids open.
Seriously, I welcome the dark. Because it’s the only place I have find peace within myself. But a part of me wants to fight, but not enough to make an effort.
I smile as serenity ripples through me. I’m no longer Detective McCann’s little girl who let her sex addiction dishonor her family and career. I’m simply Brenna McCann, ex-cop sex addict who dies on her own terms. Men can’t take advantage of me and be ridiculed for my actions, or theirs. My headstone will simply read; Brenna McCann, Loving Daughter & Sister.
As my eyelids close and blackness calls to me, one final thought enters my mind: Is there sex in heaven?
RECKLESS OATH—BOOK 1
Sometimes you have to Trust, but Love is a tenacious bitch.
Ex–cop sex addict Brenna McCann’s job as a sentinel team leader just got harder. Her life spins out of control when the ex–owner of Chicago Sentinel Agency is murdered and Brenna becomes the number one suspect. While trying to track down Millie’s murderer and attempting to clear her name, Brenna’s wanton need for one of the new owners of CSA, Sean Donovan, just might be her undoing—both in and out of bed.
Touching down on Chicago soil, Sean Donovan never guessed murder would be on the main agenda. It doesn’t help that his growing obsession for Brenna McCann is waning his brain cells. With a bad divorce behind him, this ex-marine doesn’t want be tied to another woman. However, Sean has to learn to trust this sentinel and help track down the killer before someone else dies or Brenna will be thrown in jail or worse, turn up dead. Falling in love with the dark hair beauty isn’t on Sean’s agenda, but his heart isn’t listening.
Award-Winning Author CJ Warrant was born an overseas Army brat, in a Korean Italian household, but settled in the states at five. With a career in the beauty industry, married to a wonderful, supportive man, three grown kids, and a new cat mom, her view of life is as such. Life is a journey; both good and bad, light to the dark. She takes it all in, learns from every experience, and captures those moments in her stories.
These are all my Social Media links:
CJ’s M/M Coven
***All excerpts have been published with permission from the author. My Blissful Books does not claim any copyright to the excerpt. That remains with the author.***