Existential

How much suffering can a man withstand before he finally breaks? A question I used to ask myself often. Now I know the answer.

My father: murdered. My baby sister: killed the same day. And my only remaining sister's whereabouts? A mystery. I'm drowning in my desolation and yet nobody seems to care. Or maybe it's the fact I won't let them close enough to help? Either way, my losses are my own, and I'll deal with them the only way I know how—by punishing myself.

As president of the Fallen Aces MC Fort Worth chapter, I'm looked to for guidance in times of crisis. I'm expected to set personal grievances aside and lead by example. Yet how can I do that when those grievances robbed me of my family, my life? My reason to be at the head of the table?

I've got it all figured out, at least, I thought I did. Until one woman, a traveller passing by, unravels the master plan. I see it in her eyes, the same distance, the same feeling that she doesn't belong—that her time here is wasted.

One woman who mirrors me in every way, and suddenly I find a reason to hold off the reaper a little longer. A reason to stay at the head of the table. A reason to show those who've hurt me that, although they brought the beast to its knees, I won't lay down to die without a fight.