by Zoey Parker
Max had no siblings. It was just him and his Mom, and then it was just him. For the longest time, he didn’t think he had any family. He fought for his life on the streets, learning too young how brutal the world can be. He learned how to handle himself in a fight, how to take a punch, and more importantly, how to give a good one.
When his Uncle finally found him, Max must have looked like some sort of wretched street urchin. His clothes and skin were dirtied beyond recognition. His hair was matted against his head and he stank of dirt, sweat, and blood. But beneath all the grime and the pain his Uncle saw Max. Saw the kind of man he could one day become. Max had been denied a proper education, but he’d learned all the life lessons he needed from living on the streets. But if his Uncle hadn’t found him when he had, Max doubted he could have lasted much longer. His lungs were weak, and he had a permanent chill in his bones which felt ready to escalate into something sinister.
Thankfully, fate intervened, and Max was saved. His Uncle and the Skeleton Kings became his family. For the first time in so long, Max felt like he belonged. He would do anything for the Kings, he would defend them with his dying breath. Is that how Brittany’s brother felt about her? Max reasoned it must be, and it helped him understand why their relationship was so intense. Without his mother, Max had nobody. But when Brittany lost her parents, she did have something; she had her brother. And the love they felt for one another got forged in the fire of that loss. If Brittany’s brother hadn’t taken care of her, would Brittany have ended up like Max, living hand to mouth out on the streets? He’d seen what happened to girls who ended up living rough, and it was a much crueler fate than what happened to boys. Max was grateful that Brittany’s brother had saved her like he did. And one day he’d tell him that to his face and shake his hand.
Gunning the engine of his bike Max grinned with satisfaction when she sputtered and then finally came to life. One of his misguided attempts to get the motorcycle running again must have worked. Standing up he wiped down his hands with an old rag and began gathering his tools back up. With the bike repaired it meant that he could go into the town and see Brittany. His day just kept getting better and better.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Brittany was drawing a fairy. But not the happy kind like you find in fairy tales. No, this fairy was very much broken because even in a world with magic everything isn’t perfect. Brittany used long, sweeping strokes of her pencil to create the wings which were wilted with sadness. The fairy herself sat with her head bent against her knees, which were drawn up tightly to her chest. Her pretty floral dress was tattered and soiled, as it spilled on the ground around her. The image was as beautiful as it was sad.
When Brittany was satisfied that she was finished, she took a deep breath and went to approach Nancy in the break room.
Nancy was laughing at something on the television, two hands cupped around a hot cup of black coffee. She looked up when Brittany walked in, the smile remaining on her lips.
“Nancy, hey,” Brittany nervously kept her sketch pad to her chest as she entered the small room, which smelt of stale coffee and pop tarts.
“Hey, sweetie,” Nancy grinned. Her smile widened as she spied the sketchbook Brittany was pressing against her chest like a shield. “You got something to show me there?”
Brittany dropped down on to the faded black couch in the break room beside Nancy. The couch had once been as dark as a raven’s feather but over time it had dulled to a dirty gray, like overused dishwater.
“Okay, don’t judge me too harshly,” Brittany pleaded, tentatively peeling back the sketchpad so that Nancy could look at the image of the tarnished fairy.
“Oh, wow,” Nancy uttered as her mouth fell open.
“Do you like it?” Brittany fretted.
“Like it?” Nancy gasped. “I love it! It’s so beautiful, yet so badass! So full of sorrow and grace! We have to add this to our collection! The lines look clean, and you really got a good contrast going there.”
“Really?” Brittany beamed with delight.
“Really,” Nancy smiled, still unable to take her eyes off the amazingly intricate drawing. “And more than that, I want you to tattoo it onto me.”
“What?” Brittany froze, wondering if Nancy was being serious.
“I need that on me,” Nancy tapped the fairy approvingly. “It is beautiful, Brittany. A real piece of art. Besides, if you tattoo it onto me, it will be practice for when people come in requesting it. Which they will be, in droves as soon as that goes up in the window.”
“Really? You want me to do everyone who comes in for it?”
“Of course,” Nancy nodded. “After all, it’s your design, and no one would know it better than you.”
“And you’re sure you want me to tattoo it…on you?” Brittany felt nervous about tattooing anybody, let alone her boss.
“I’m sure,” Nancy insisted. “Brittany, you’re a natural, and you’ve taken to this place like a duck to water. I wouldn’t be surprised if one day you end up owning your own tattoo parlor. Just don’t open it up in Colridge or else you’ll put me out of business.”
Brittany was grinning literally from ear to ear, as full of nervous excitement as a kid on Christmas morning. She actually couldn’t have hoped for a better reaction from Nancy over her design. And she couldn’t wait to tell Max all about it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“She wants you to tattoo it on her?” Max almost choked on the burger he was eating.
“I know, right?” Brittany picked at her portion of fries, almost too excited to eat. “I couldn’t believe it.”
“Wow, Brittany, she must really believe in your work.”
They were sat in a corner booth in a McDonald’s a mile outside of Colridge. Max had insisted on taking her for a spin on his bike during her lunch break. As they sped off out of town, she felt like the heroine in some movie. It was hard to think that this was her life, when before she had to secretly cycle everywhere on her pedal bike. Now she had a handsome boyfriend to take her out for lunch. Because that’s what Max was, wasn’t it? Her boyfriend. Although they’d yet to place any formal labels on their relationship.
“I just hope I don’t mess it up,” Brittany fretted.
“Of course you won’t!” Max told her brightly. “You’ll do a great job, not just on Nancy but on all the other people who are going to come in wanting one of your designs.”
“Can I add you to that list?” Brittany cocked an eyebrow at him.
“For a fairy design?” Max laughed lightly. “No, count me out this time. I prefer to keep my ink a bit more masculine.”
He kept chewing on his burger, but Brittany had little appetite for her fries.
“I think she likes my brother.” Brittany stated after a slight pause.
“Who?”
“Nancy.”
“She’s met your brother?” Brittany might have imagined it, but she thought she heard a slightly hurt inflection enter Max’ voice.
“Uh huh, when he came over to Colridge a few weeks back.”
“Ah, I see.” No, the hurt in Max’s voice was definitely there.
“Would you…” Brittany trod carefully, not wanting to scare Max off from whatever was developing between them.
“Would you want to meet my brother?” she asked casually.
“Sure.”
“Really?”
“Well, he’s your family, isn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Brittany nodded. “Does that mean I get to meet your family too?”
Max thought of the sweaty bar where all the Skeleton Kings hung out. It was the closest thing he had to a family home, and it was certainly no place for a girl like Brittany.
“There’s no one to meet,” he told her gruffly.
“Oh,” Brittany’s shoulders sank. “But…” she chewed thoughtfully on her lip, eyeing Max nervously.
“But?”
“I’m your girlfriend, right? So, if there were some family to meet, I’d get
to meet them?”
“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?” Max asked teasingly. It was a conversation better suited to a school yard than a shabby McDonalds off the freeway.
“Don’t say it like that!” Brittany objected, playfully throwing a French fry at him. “I’m being serious,” she added, pouting. “I really like you, Max and I want us to be…exclusive.”
“So, you’ve not been seeing anyone else?” Max’ eyes widened with mock horror.
“Stop it!” Brittany threw another fry in his direction. He narrowly dodged, and it landed in the booth beside him.
“Are we exclusive or not?” she demanded, her confidence buoyed by her success with Nancy later. Her life was almost perfect, the only piece of the puzzle yet to slide into place was cementing where she stood with Max. She wanted to feel like he was her boyfriend, like they were starting to get serious about one another. But what if he didn’t feel that way? What if he wanted to keep things casual and see other people? The thought made Brittany’s stomach turn.
“Well?” she prompted angrily, “don’t leave a girl hanging.”
“Brittany, of course we are exclusive,” Max laughed, his shoulders shaking with it. “If you need to put a label on it then by all means, call me your boyfriend.”
“You’re mocking me.”
“I’m mocking the entire institution of relationships. But I’m happy to call us whatever you like, if it makes you happy.”
Brittany smiled contentedly and commenced eating her French fries, suddenly feeling hungrier.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Zack missed his sister. With her gone the house felt so bare and empty. Alone, it was easier to give into his darker thoughts about losing his parents. Even taking on extra jobs for the Red Riders wasn’t helping kill enough time or stem some of his loneliness. There was also talk of a member of the Skeleton Kings being in Colridge and stirring up trouble, which made Zack nervous.
“Couple of bar fights got out of hand,” his friend Jameson told him over a beer as they sat in the bar owned by the Red Riders.
“How out of hand?” Zack sought for clarity.
“Some stitches needed here and there, some bruised ribs.” Jameson shrugged casually and drank deeply from his bottle of beer. He was no stranger to injuries himself. The left side of his face was mottled with the aging scar of a severe burn wound from when a member of the Kings had thrown acid on his face. The skin still appeared melted and tender although all of the hair had managed to grow back on his scalp, which helped him resemble his former self.
“You think the Kings are looking to start a turf war?” that was the last thing Zack wanted. If a turf war broke out, he’d have to go and get Brittany out of there. And of course, she’d resist and want to know the truth. But she still thought he worked out in some factory, how would she feel if she knew what he really did?
“Maybe,” Jameson shrugged again. He always maintained a level of indifference when it came to club business. That was until someone either insulted him or one of his friends. Then he morphed into a ball of blind rage. He’d killed men in the past with nothing more than a tooth pick. Jameson was like a dangerous, exotic pet. Treat him nice, and he’d be loyal and protective, abuse him and he’d devour you in a second. Zack knew that Jameson was someone best kept on his side.
“My sister is over there,” Zack admitted sadly. “Working at some tattoo parlor in Colridge.”
“Oh?” Jameson’s eyebrows raised with interest. He’d only seen Brittany twice during the years he’d been friends with Zack, but both times his eyes had all but popped out of his head, and he’d asked after her for months afterwards.
“She’s strictly off limits,” Zack growled. It was a warning he’d given to all his Red Riders brethren, and they respected it. When it came to family members, dating was always off limits unless strictly allowed by the relative member of the club. And Zack wasn’t about to let a dangerous member of his motorcycle gang take his sister out. He’d endeavored for years to keep her pure of all the dark dealings that went on in town.
“Shame,” Jameson raised his good arm to order another beer.
“So, what are we going to do about this asshole stirring stuff up in Colridge?” Zack demanded, his nostrils flaring. He’d normally be more relaxed about such things, but Brittany being there made the intrusion feel personal.
“Nothing for now.”
“If we do nothing, we look weak.”
“If we react too swiftly and cry over spilled milk, we look weak.”
“Mmm,” Zack mumbled half in agreement and half in frustration, as he drank more of his beer. The Red Riders was always consumed with towing a fine line between being threatened and threatening. Disputes between the King could turn deadly and neither club wanted to lose members over something trivial.
“So you think this guy is nothing to worry about?” Zack questioned, wiping a hand across his mouth.
“He’s just one guy,” Jameson shrugged and tilted his head up towards the television which was showing a cage fighting match. The powerhouse fighter Bulldog Schumer was just stepping into the ring.
“What can one guy do?” Jameson asked. “Unless, of course, he’s me,” he added with a cheeky grin.
Zack patted his friend on the back and laughed. “You are a one-man whirlwind.”
“You bet.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, just watching the fight and drinking their beers. Zack could still remember the night Jameson and he were attacked. Zack was only seventeen, Jameson a few years older but not many. They were still new to the club and didn’t understand the fragile territories. They went to watch a rock band play at a bar a few miles outside of town. It pained Zack to remember what a good time they had. The beer had been flowing, the music was great, and the small venue pulsated with energy. But when they stepped out into the parking lot everything changed.
A group of burly men was waiting for them, their motorcycles circled behind them. Zack knew immediately who they were and how much trouble they were in. The men flew at the young pair. Zack was pinned down and severely beaten. He didn’t trouble himself with fighting back too fiercely, he knew he was out numbered. But Jameson fought. He clawed at everyone who came near him and even ripped out a nose stud with his teeth. The man who had lost his stud clutched desperately at his nose, wailing, while another stalked back to his bike. He came back holding a small jug of something which emitted smoke and a strange odor. By the time, Zack realized what was happening it was too late. He screamed as the acid was poured onto Jameson’s face as four men held him down, laughing wickedly. Jameson screamed in agony as the air turned foul with the stench of his burning flesh.
Zack had done everything he could for Jameson. He’d rushed him to the nearest hospital and sat with him as the doctors painstakingly did their best to remove the worst of the acid. But the damage had been done. Though Jameson had been lucky to live, he would be scarred for the rest of his life. He’d been a handsome, impulsive young guy, and now he’d forever be a gruesome reminder of how fiercely the Kings would protect their territory.
“I think I might pay my sister a visit,” Zack declared suddenly, the anger from that night burning hot in his veins once more. “Ask a few questions around town, see if I can’t root out this snake that’s causing trouble.”
“Just be careful,” Jameson offered cautiously.
“Don’t worry, I will be.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“You’re coming to visit?” Brittany was a heady mixture of excitement and nerves at the prospect as she talked to Zack, pacing around her apartment as she kept the cell phone wedged against her ear with her shoulder.
“I was thinking this weekend,” Zack replied.
“Does this have anything to do with Nancy?” Brittany teased.
“No,” Zack insisted sharply. “I just want to spend time with my little sister, is that okay?”
“Of course it’s okay,” Brittany laughed nervously. She c
ould feel Max watching her from where he sat on the sofa, his long, muscular arms spread out across the back of it. “I can’t wait to see you.”
Plans were made, times decided upon, and then the call was ended. Brittany exhaled deeply and shoved her phone back into her jeans pocket.
“So, your brother is coming to visit,” Max noted after a few moments’ pause.
“Uh huh,” Brittany nodded nervously.
“Maybe we could all…get together?” Max suggested casually. Brittany smiled in gratitude at the offer. She knew that he was just being kind, was making an effort to get to know her brother, but she also knew Zack. Springing a boyfriend on him would only make him mad and their new-found dynamic was still so fragile. She didn’t want to go and drive a wedge between them, when he’d so far been so good about her living away in Colridge.
