Bleeding Like Me

by Riley Parks

  “You worry about staying on the bottom, faggot,” Jackson shot back with a sniff. He wasn’t in the mood for any bullshit, even Luke’s typical brand. “You going to at least fight back, motherfucker?” he questioned the recruit, who seemed to be doing his best scared puppy impression. “Make it worth it for me to give up three minutes of my day?”

  The kid nodded quickly.

  “He asked you a fucking question, Terrence,” Aiden barked, giving Jackson a sly wink. “Do like they tell you to do in kindergarten and use your goddamn words.”

  “I’m going to fight,” Terrence answered, clearing his throat and balling his fists. Jackson tried to stifle his laughter, deciding that this might be fun after all. It had been a while since he scrapped. He had a reputation that made anyone with half a brain keep their distance. The problems Jackson had to deal with were more homicide level than a kick in the balls.

  “What’re your favorite colors?” Luke questioned, knowing his brother wasn’t one for formalities.

  “Black, gray, and white,” the recruit answered quickly, as if he was proud that he’d studied up. Jackson smirked, knowing how much more he had to learn.

  “Don’t matter if you’re black or white, you betray Dem Demonz, you end up gray,” Luke rattled off, signaling for Aiden to start the timer. He glanced at Jackson, who was already bored with the process but was approaching the kid anyway.

  “Get off the dirt,” Jackson directed, waving Terrence toward him. “Not going to get my shoes dirty.”

  The recruit did as he was told, standing on the grass of the diamond for a second before falling on it in the next as Jackson coldcocked him.

  “You got to be shittin’ me.” Jackson shook his head and punched out an aggravated exhale. “Is he fucking serious right now?” he asked Aiden, who was laughing hysterically. “Holy shit, we’re letting pussies in?” He leaned over so he could pick Terrence up by his collar. “Stand the fuck up. Stand. The. Fuck. Up,” he demanded louder. The boy struggled to plant his feet, and as soon as he did, Jackson laid him out again.

  In any other circumstance, Jackson would’ve given him one good kick, spit in his face, and rolled out, knowing there was no pride in an unfair fight, but it was a jump-in and he owed it to his colors to fuck the kid up for the full three minutes.

  “Think you’re going to have to sit this one out, huh, Luke?” Jackson said, scratching his head as he watched Terrence climb to his feet, looking like a baby deer testing his legs for the first time.

  “Yup,” Luke replied, lighting up a cigarette and taking a seat on the patchy turf next to Aiden.

  “Get one in, man. C’mon,” Jackson practically pleaded, moving closer to the kid, who was sporting a hell of a bloody nose. “Hit me.”

  Terrence narrowed his eyes and appeared skeptical that it was some sort of test he was about to fail. But it wasn’t. There was something about the feeling of a fist pounding into his bone that drove Jackson crazy: an almost sexual release of tension that brought him to another plane of consciousness. Every so often he craved pain as much as he did pleasure. Sometimes he fantasized about having both simultaneously, but there wasn’t much time for rough play or bondage behind the bushes in a park.

  “You fucking stupid? I said hit me, bitch,” Jackson growled, sighing when he felt the punch crack against his jaw. He laughed and licked his lip, satisfied that the guy could jab better than he took one. “Again.”

  “Jack,” Aiden warned, “you got to wreck him, not play punching bag.”

  “I’ll take care of him.” Jackson shot Aiden a look that screamed shut the fuck up before turning back to Terrence and raising his eyebrows. “Again.”

  The younger man delivered another blow to the side of Jackson’s face, causing him to hum “Like that” quietly. Knowing that he had to get down to business, Jackson placed his hands on either side of the kid’s face and bashed their foreheads together. As soon as Terrence crumpled to the ground, Jackson started to go off on him, kicking him harder each time he drew his foot back. The final blow was a brutal punt to the underside of the kid’s chin that had him lying motionless with his mouth hanging open.

  Jackson nudged the thin body with the toe of his boot until the new member was on his side. Squatting down, Jackson slid his hand into the back pocket of Terrence’s jeans and pulled out his wallet. He opened it and tsked. “Dumbass ain’t strapped and he brought two hundred dollars to the fucking hood. We really gonna let him in?” He turned to Aiden and Luke, who shook their heads at the news.

  “Got to have the idiots to put on the front lines.” Aiden shrugged. “If we don’t take them the fucking faggot-ass KKz will. They’re growing quick. Our Halstead boys said they’re starting to tag our corners. We got to have some disposable foot soldiers to sacrifice.”

  “Yeah, all right,” Jackson mumbled, rubbing his forehead in irritation. “I don’t want him working my product, though. I need higher functioning people peddling the good shit.”

  “You know that ain’t my decision. I recruit them. That’s all. Talk to Isaiah,” Aiden suggested with a yawn. “I got to take a fucking nap. This shit took a lot out of me.”

  “What took a lot out of you?” Luke chuckled. “The two blocks you had to drag your fat ass to get here? A little exercise ain’t going to hurt you, Tubs. Promise you that.”

  “Fuck you, Mop Top,” Aiden huffed, giving his friend a hard shove. “Help me up.”

  Luke rose to his feet, brushing off the back of his jeans, and then tugged on the heavier man’s arms to assist him.

  “I’ll talk to Isiah then,” Jackson decided, shoving the bills into his wallet and standing up. He climbed over Terrence so that he could prod him over to the other side. Reaching into his second pocket, he pulled out a flattened pack of cigarettes with a grin. “Deserve to get paid for taking time away from the shit I got to do to take care of his scrawny ass.”

  “By shit you got to do, are you talking about Tamara?” Aiden teased. “Because it ain’t right to talk about your girl that way.”

  “That’s why I fucking wasn’t.” Jackson grinned, lighting up one of Terrence’s cigarettes and throwing the rest of the pack on his feeble form.

  “Am I going to see you guys at Lyle’s tomorrow night? I’ll buy you a cup,” Aiden volunteered, looking at Jackson so it was clear that the offer was for him.

  “Me too?” Luke questioned as they all walked away from Terrence, who Jackson figured would come to in the next hour or so.

  “Not fucking happening,” Aiden scoffed. “You’re a nasty little shit making fun of my weight.”

  “Don’t be so sensitive, man. If you don’t want people to talk about your lard ass, lose some weight,” Luke suggested. “Then you won’t have to get butt hurt.”

  “You guys ever shut the fuck up?” Jackson groaned as he took a drag and blew the smoke into the hazy summer air.

  “Sometimes, but it ain’t as fun when I do,” Aiden replied with a proud smile. “You going to come, Jack? Tomorrow night? C’mon. You don’t come out enough. Bring the girls.”

  “You still trying to get with Amy?” Luke asked, while Jackson pointedly ignored Aiden’s questions and focused on enjoying his smoke. “Because that’s never going to happen. She’s still fucking with Isaiah and when he’s done with her she’s off limits.”

  “Don’t talk about my sister that way,” Jackson warned, glaring at Luke out of the corner of his eye. “She ain’t one of his hoes.”

  “She’s my sister, too,” Luke reminded him.

  “Yeah? Then act like it, prick.” He rolled his tongue under his bottom lip and huffed out a sigh, hoping he didn’t have to teach Luke a lesson on respect soon.

  “Sorry, Jack.”

  Jackson nodded as they approached his street. He slapped Aiden on the back and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow night, fatass.”

  “Can’t wait, brother. It’s going to be a rager, I promise.”

  Jackson didn’t really party. Not anymore. He didn’t par
ty until his friend asked him to, and then he showed up.

  3

  It didn’t take long for Evan to get settled in his new room. He only had as much as he could shove into his backpack, so setup consisted of dumping that shit on the floor and lying down on the stained mattress to rest his head. Though there were no sheets on the bed and his body was sore, it was the most comfortable night’s sleep he’d had in a while.

  He’d never had his own room. When he was younger, he’d shared with his brothers and after he got kicked out of the house he’d crashed wherever he could: friends’ couches, with people he fucked, or shelters in the winter, and the banks of the lake or park benches in the summer if he couldn’t get a bed at the Mission. He regretted not listening to Kane and joining the KKz years ago. He had to remind himself to keep control and not fuck it up.

  He wasn’t sure how long he’d slept, but there was sunlight streaming past the kinked blinds when his rumbling stomach woke him, insistent that he put something in it. Groaning as he stretched his achy limbs, he climbed out of bed and headed into the kitchen to see if there was anything to eat. He was surprised to find Kane, Jamal, and a guy he didn’t know sitting at the table playing cards and smoking blunts.

  “Breakfast of Champions?” he asked with a smirk, nodding when Kane passed him a blunt. He took a deep inhale, cringing when his side reminded him that he’d gotten rocked the day before.

  “It’s noon, cracker.” Jamal laughed as Evan looked to Kane for confirmation. His brother nodded and patted him on his bare hipbone.

  “Doesn’t look so bad,” he stated, gesturing to the bruises on Evan’s torso.

  “All good,” Evan assured, glancing at the guy he didn’t know. “I’m Evan.”

  “Luis,” the dude said as he reached out his hand to shake Evan’s. “There are some burritos in the fridge if you want one.”

  “Yeah?” Evan asked, raising his eyebrows eagerly.

  “Mmmhmm.”

  He didn’t waste any time grabbing one and tossing it into the microwave. He could hardly wait the minute it took to heat it up, digging in as soon as he pulled it out. The guys watched as he scarfed it down with fervor.

  “Look pretty thin, man,” Kane observed, taking in Evan’s boxer-clad form. “You not eating enough?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Evan mumbled, his mouth full of Mexican food.

  Kane tapped his cards against the table and sighed, deciding not to push the issue.

  “You and I got a date today, Red,” Luis informed him, taking a sip of his forty.

  “Not on that faggot shit.” Evan grinned around the burrito he was still shoving into his mouth.

  “Good, ‘cause I wouldn’t want to fuck a bitch without an ass anyway,” Luis teased back, drawing a laugh from Evan, who was in a pretty fucking good mood with his belly full of food and his head getting a nice buzz off the Kush. “Nah, man, I’m not typically on party but I’m doing my boy Micah a favor and training you tonight. We got to go out and get you some clothes, a razor, and shit like that this afternoon.”

  “Don’t got any money,” Evan stated plainly.

  “You’re a Klown Killer now, cracks,” Jamal told him. “We take care of our own.”

  “When you start bringing in some dough, you’ll get us back. We collect money for the house once a week. You know, for groceries, alcohol, and weed. Enough to cover the necessities,” Luis explained.

  Evan nodded and noticed the look of warning he was getting from his brother. He didn’t blame him for the nonverbal reminder. He’d spent enough time fucking up in the past to know that the concern was warranted, but his brother had put his own reputation on the line to bring Evan in and there was no way he was going to screw that up.

  Of all the things he’d done that he regretted, and there were a lot of them, stealing from the family’s shoebox savings was tops. The first time he did it, he’d intended to pay it back but got himself into some heat with a local dealer and wasn’t able to make it happen. The second time he hadn’t given it a thought. He was desperate for a hit and knew there was a can of money sitting idly in the kitchen. He should’ve shown more remorse when he was caught, but he hadn’t; his mind was too overtaken by the drugs he was flooding it with to give a shit.

  Mom and Pops had bolted so his older sister, Emma, and brother, Paul, had taken over running the family. When they’d had enough, they’d kicked him out, fed up with his habit and his propensity to gank shit to feed it. At seventeen he was on his own and now, four years later, he wasn’t going to make the same mistakes again. It meant something to him that Kane had offered him a bed, even though he was well aware of his history. He wanted to do right by his bro and, selfishly, wanted to enjoy having his own room for as long as possible.

  “Go throw on some clothes and we’ll hit up the Goodwill for some club clothes. We’re heading up to the North Side tonight to pick up some daddy’s girls.”

  “Or girls that’ll call you daddy,” Kane corrected with a cocky head nod.

  “What do you know about that?” Evan belched loudly and tossed the aluminum foil that used to hold the burrito into the trash.

  “Bitches have been calling me ‘daddy’ since elementary school.” Kane smirked. “Don’t act like you don’t remember that shit.”

  “I remember you got caught fucking that Gracie chick under the bleachers in seventh grade,” Evan reminded Kane. “Emma was pissed as fuck, but Paul and I smoked you up that night to celebrate.”

  “Fuck, those were the good old days,” Kane sighed, seeming to get lost in the memories.

  Evan was glad he never got caught doing the same with Ryan Spellman. He would’ve had a lot more explaining to do than Kane ever had, and Evan was sure his brother Paul wouldn’t have gifted him with weed after the revelation.

  He felt a stir in his boxers and quickly excused himself to take a shower before he started tenting them. He knew it had been too long since he’d gotten laid if thoughts of his middle school sex life were turning him on.

  Since he was going to be on the North Side later, he knew exactly where he was going to go to get fucked. He couldn’t wait to be done with whatever bullshit he had to take care of so he was free to find some dude’s ass to rail.

  X

  The Drexel was everything Evan hated about the North Side and people in general. It was packed with girls who were fake as fuck from their tans to their hair, tits, and personalities. The guys weren’t much better, wearing douchey pink Polo shirts and talking about their cars, boats, and latest business deals. Evan was pretty sure he and Luis stood out like sore thumbs, despite having picked collared shirts and dark wash jeans especially for the occasion.

  “Remember what you’re going to say about your eye,” Luis prompted, studying Evan’s face to see if his black eye would be noticeable in the lighting, which he knew it was. “Rugby.”

  “Have no idea how the game works,” Evan informed him. “What if they ask me some questions I can’t answer?”

  “You find a way to answer them, Red,” Luke laid it down. “Don’t use rugby. I don’t give a fuck. Just come up with something that sounds rich.”

  Evan nodded. He knew the plan. Luis had decided to start small and teach him their credit card fraud tricks since the whole party scene wasn’t really his area of expertise. Though the training wasn’t extensive, Evan felt confident that he’d be able to get the job done, and the thought of indulging in the spoils was amazing. As he approached a busty blonde, he kept repeating the items that he intended to buy with her credit card number. It made talking to her a more palatable exercise. It had only taken a few seconds for her to notice, before she began to flirt mercilessly.

  “Can I buy you a drink, doll?” he crooned, giving her the widest smile he could muster.

  “Only if you tell me where you got that black eye, handsome,” she flirted, resting her hand high on Evan’s thigh. “Love my men rough.”

  He cleared his throat, attempting to steel himself for the onsla
ught of questions he was sure she’d ask.

  “Got in a fight over some dumb shit.” The lie rolled off his tongue, and yeah, he was well aware that he was going off script.

  “Sexy,” she sighed in reply, tossing her blonde locks over her shoulder and licking her lips suggestively.

  “Lemme buy you a drink?” He did the man-beg as he made a show of staring at her cannonball tits even though they disgusted him.

  “I’d love that.” She giggled, shimmying her chest slightly in order to entice him even further, not realizing she was barking up the wrong tree.

  Luis had busied himself with another desperate bitch as Evan and blondie requested their drinks from the bartender. When it came time to pay, Evan made a show of pulling out his wallet like he was supposed to and sighed as he feigned his disappointment when he realized his nonexistent credit card wasn’t there.

  The girl took the bait, immediately waving off Evan’s faux protests as she pulled out her own card and laid it down on the mahogany surface of the bar. He forced a smile as she placed a hand on his freshly shaven face and then let it drag down the front of his maroon button-down to the waist of his jeans. She looked away as she let her hand move down to the crotch of his pants, while she took a sip of her Amaretto Sour.

  He discreetly reached into his pocket and took out the burner that Luis had given him. As the blonde attempted to play it coy, he snuck a picture of her credit card before the bartender had the chance to slide it off the bar top to run it. Within seconds of Evan completing his task, her coquettish act had given way to a more direct tactic. She leaned in close and whispered, “You ever fuck on cocaine?”

  Chugging his full beer bottle until it was empty, he raised his eyebrows and followed her as she sauntered toward the bathroom. All of a sudden the club wasn’t as shitty a place to be as it had been moments before.

  The women’s lavatory was crowded, but nobody seemed to bat an eye when he entered or when blondie started cutting lines on the brushed metal countertop. It had been so long since he’d had the opportunity to bump the good stuff. He’d had to settle for whatever he had been able to get his hands on and he could feel his mouth begin to water with want as he watched her roll up a Benjamin. Leaning over, she snorted two long lines in practiced succession before handing the money over and gesturing for him to hit the other two lines she’d cut. He did so enthusiastically, licking his lips and closing his eyes when he felt the delicious rush.