When we were in high school, Darcie and I would sit outside and fantasize about being free to leave. We both imagined going to a warmer climate where I could race all year around, and she wouldn’t have to deal with the cold. We would talk for hours about it. We had a lofty goal of graduating and bailing on life in Sulfur Heights. She wanted to go to art school on the coast, and I wanted to race. Then Grady happened, and my sanity couldn’t handle the horror anymore, which led me to seek out the underworld. Darcie fell in love with Reggie, Presley died, and my brothers’ families grew, leaving Darcie no other choice than to stay.
I applaud her for leaving. The both of them are still incredibly young; they can live a peaceful existence just as Darcie has always dreamed.
I have thought about leaving since that night, and I have to say, I still think about getting in my car and taking off.
I still haven’t looked at the letter, because I’m not ready to face my fate. I know I’m being ridiculous; however, there is that small possibility of me remaining on parole for another year. It always looms in the back of my head. Even though I decided I couldn’t leave my family behind, I do want to say good-bye to the underworld once and for all. Getting off parole would be the final piece of leaving all that in the past for good.
It’s Monday morning, and Cami left the house an hour ago to start her shift. She works three twelve-hour shifts a week and has to be at work at five o’clock in the morning. Typically, she never works on Monday, but she is filling in for someone who is on vacation today.
It’s my job to get Hunter up and going for the morning. He takes after his Uncle Jake as he fights me to even get out of bed.
“Dad, I’m too tired! I don’t want to get up,” Hunter expresses in a fit of anger then rolls over, pulling his blanket over his head.
I look down on him and smile. If he only knew getting up will be a way of life when he becomes an adult.
“Hunter,” I use my sternest voice.
If it weren’t for Cami intervening with my parenting style, I would probably have a third grade dropout because I could never tell him no in the beginning. I wanted him to like me, so I would give in every single time.
I yank the covers back then walk to the wall, flipping on the light switch. “Hunter, get up now.”
Once Hunter tosses the covers off his body and walks to the bathroom, I pull out his clothes and set them on the bed. Then I move to the kitchen to make him a hot breakfast before I take him to daycare. I turn on the stove and set a pan on the burner to heat up. I pull the eggs from the fridge and start scrambling some for us. When the pan is hot enough, I pour the mixture in and move to check on Hunter. He is sitting on his floor with his boxers on, one leg in his jeans, and one sock on his foot.
“Come on, buddy. I know you’re tired, but we need to get moving. I’m making you scrambled eggs for breakfast.” This piques his interest, and he finishes getting dressed.
When I walk back to the kitchen, I finish cooking the eggs, pour his orange juice, and set a steaming pile of food on his plate and mine. Hunter comes in just in time and digs in.
He’s not much of a talker in the morning. Actually, he’s not much of a talker at all. He takes after me in that respect. His best friend is his cousin, Mia, and he kind of sticks to himself when he’s around other kids. I hope he will form a bond with his baby brother the way I have with mine. Although they will be eight years apart, I know he can be as close as I am to Reggie or any of my brothers.
We finish our breakfast in silence before we get in our heavy coats, gloves, and hats then head out to the car. Hunter smiles when I rev the engine. I can hear him let out a giggle when the vibration of the motor rumbles his seat.
“How about I pick you up from school, and you can come down to the shop for a little bit while I finish up the day?”
Hunter’s face lights up with delight, and he nods his head.
He looks like his mom when he smiles. It lights up his face, and his caramel skin shines. Normally, he gives a half-smile unless he is truly excited about something. I’m glad I can make my son that happy.
“I will call your mom and let her know not to pick you up, okay, buddy?” I back out of the driveway, taking my son to daycare, looking forward to the afternoon when I get to pick him up and spend time with him.
***
The day sped by quickly. We had a full load, and with it only being Jake and me running the shop, we have been incredibly busy.
Jake and his father-in-law are the primary owners of the shop, but he always includes me on decisions and seems to care about my opinion. However, I have noticed Jake spends a lot more time here than he used to lately.
After Delilah had the twins, Jake was always running between home and work. They grew quickly out of the little apartment above the shop, and Delilah’s dad bought a home for their growing family. Jake was against the idea, refusing to take more help, but her dad merely explained that, if they didn’t want to live there, he would rent it out or sell it.
Despite his hesitation, Jake and Delilah moved into their house. Over the last year or so, Jake spends less time with his family and more time at the shop, though. He claims it’s because he can’t afford to pay me more hours, and they have work that needs to be done. But Jake is my twin, and I know something is up at home. When he’s ready to talk about it, he will. Until then, I will leave my opinion out of it.
Once three o’clock hits, I leave to pick up my son.
When I pull away from the shop parking lot, I notice a large, black truck sitting just down the street, looking exactly like Tank’s. When it begins to follow me, I know exactly whom it belongs to. I haven’t been going crazy; they are watching me, but why? What the hell do they want? I can’t afford to find out.
I pull in front of Hunter’s school and wait for him to be dismissed. I look in my rearview mirror to find the black truck parked down the street a couple of blocks. My anger begins to grow when I think about what they could possibly want. My biggest concern is being ratted out about my past and going back to jail.
It’s only in the last year that they’ve been coming around. I know it’s because I will be off parole soon. They probably want to make sure I will always be bound to the underworld and want to send me back to I-Max because they can. Because they are sick fucks with nothing better to do.
Hunter opens up the door, and I instantly put a smile on my face, not wanting him to see my anger. Then I pull from the school parking lot and head back to the shop.
Hunter is talking about his day, how Mia and he won a race at recess, but my attention is fixed to the black truck trailing three cars behind me. I’m having a hard time pulling it together by the time I pull into the shop parking lot.
Jake is working on the transmission of a Toyota when we walk from the office and out to the repair bays.
“Hey, dude,” Jake says as he pretends to slug Hunter in the gut.
While Hunter flinches then giggles as they begin to spar, I look out the window to see Tank is parked where he was when I left.
This needs to stop. I can’t live a peaceful life without knowing why the hell they have been following me. If they have come to turn me in or fuck with my family in anyway, I will beat their asses, pack up my family, and become fugitives on the run. I will never go back to prison, not as long as I have a breath in my body. I will be far from I-Max.
I grab my Carhartt coat and hat then quickly slip them on. As Jake entertains my son, I walk to the street and approach the black truck. My body begins to go rigid as I tap into a man I haven’t been in years. I can feel the beast awaken from his five-year slumber, fully coming alive. When Reggie was shot, I was sure my dangerous side was alive. However, in this moment, I know differently; I can feel him stirring awake.
My boots scuff the snow covered parking lot as I tap into all the hate and pain I have for this place, thinking about all the shit Matt Ryker put me through. The days upon years of torture in prison, and the very possibility they want to
take it all away. My son, my wife, and my unborn child—they want to take it all away from me, but I will die before I allow that to happen.
I start to tremble as the adrenaline builds and then flows through my veins. Pictures of those I love begin to flash in my head. It’s them that keep me moving one foot closer to these assholes. I will protect and defend my freedom because it’s my duty as a husband and father.
When I approach the curb, I see Tank sitting in the driver’s seat and Victor in the passenger. I roll my neck, cracking the tension as I stalk my prey, while I cross the road and find my way over to the sidewalk.
Tank and Victor exit the truck, putting on their hats, and meet me in the middle of the sidewalk. The shop is located on a pretty secluded road, which makes their presence stand out amongst the rundown, industrial surroundings.
I keep moving forward; my fists balled into hard knots and my rage-filled self now in complete control.
Tank lifts his shirt, wasting no time showing me he has a gun tucked in his jeans. I stand before the assholes that have been tormenting me for a long time. I have tried to avoid the fact that they have been following me, and I have attempted to erase in my mind any attachment I had to them. However, this shit ends, and it ends now.
“Jeremy, glad to see you’ve finally decided to speak to me,” Tank says as he slips his sunglasses over his eyes.
“Yeah, took you long enough, asshole,” Victor chimes in. I immediately want to beat their fucking asses.
I crack my neck again and clench my fists by my sides. “I’m warning you, leave me and my family alone.” My voice is a low growl, the beastly persona of my former self-fitting as smoothly as a glove. “Stop following me.”
“Look, we’ve got something we need to discuss with you.” Tank holds up his hands in a surrender fashion; however I’m not buying it. They want something from me, something I vowed I would never do again. “Since Matt died, Victor and I have taken over the operation. But you probably already knew that.” I nod my head and keep my glare solely on my prey, Tank. “We’ve grown over the last couple of years. We’ve been able to sustain a big time connection with this Russian outfit based out of New York. We could use you to help look after things. You’ll make more money than you could ever imagine. This could be your chance to get back in the game.”
They have got to be kidding me. All of this is over me going back to work for them? No chance in hell will I even come close to that life again. I have too much to lose. I was a stupid kid when I got started with this shit, and I will not be that stupid again.
I turn my back, knowing it’s time for me to walk away and never speak to them again.
When Tank grabs my shoulder and holds me tightly, I stop and look at his big, beefy hand, appalled at the mere sight of him touching me.
I warn again, “Get your hand off me and stay away.”
“Think about it, Jeremy. After everything Matt did for you and his daughter, you owe this to him. He deserves better than this. You could have rot in hell in that prison or been killed, but Matt took care of you because of her. Now is your chance to repay that debt.” Tank squeezes my flesh, which ignites my rage to a blinding red. He spoke of my wife in an attempt to get me to relent; however, all he has done is unleash a world of pain upon his skull.
I spin on my heels and connect my fist into the side of his face. Tank bends down, but before I can reach for his gun, I feel the cold steel pressing into my back. Victor has his arm wrapped around my side, digging his pistol into my skin.
“Stop right there, asshole,” Victor threatens. “It’s not going to go down like this, Jeremy.”
“The two of you have a lot of nerve even speaking of my wife. And you’re wrong.” I hold my body still, my gaze shredding Tank apart as I stare him down. “Matt did want me to take care of his things after he left, but it was nothing to do with your operation. He told me to protect what he valued most—Cami and my son.” I lower my voice and get my face closer to Tank’s. He knows this side of me, more so than the side I have been living since my release. “And I can assure you, you’re disrespecting Matt if you take me away from the two people I was sworn to protect.”
With that, I snap my head back, connecting my skull with Victor’s nose. Blood gushes down his face as he releases a loud growl. Tank moves for his waistband, reaching for his gun, before he quickly jerks his hand up, wanting to shoot me. The gun sounds with a loud pop next to my ear. Ringing is everywhere, and I’m briefly disoriented, but I take a second to confirm I’m not hit. I’m not feeling any pain. However, what I am feeling is way, way worse. Because, as much as I warned them, I will get my hands on them before I leave.
I jack my fist back again and slug Tank in the face. He buckles to his knees, and I take the opportunity to lift my knee just as I snatch onto the back of Tank’s head and ram his face into my kneecap. Tank slumps forward, unconscious from the blow.
Then I turn on my heels to find Victor’s bloody face looking at mine. He scrambles for his dropped gun, but not before I kick him under the chin, knocking him cold. For good measure, I bend down and punch him again. Then, just as I did minutes ago, I walk back to the shop, knowing what I need to do in order to get myself away from this horror.
I need to pack up my family and leave, the sooner, the better. I don’t give a fuck what my parole letter says. When I get home, I will read it and explain to my wife what our future holds. It will have nothing to do with Sulfur Heights, either.
As I walk closer to the shop, I start to feel the pain filtering into my bones. The side of my head is throbbing, and my knuckles are swollen. I lift my hands and see the flesh torn back, blood dripping down the side. I wipe my hands on my black coat, hoping to keep it disguised enough to get home and cleaned up.
When I open the shop door, Jake and Hunter are just on the other side.
“Did you hea—” Jake stops speaking and looks at my face. It’s impossible to hide anything from him, but I move past him and walk to the cupboard. “What the hell just happened?”
“Nothing. Hunter, go to the car. We need to go home,” I say as I look for a clean rag to tie around my hand.
“Daddy, what happened to your head?” I lift my fingers and feel the blood running down my face. I was too overcome with rage to realize Tank’s bullet grazed the side of my head. Goddamn, I’m one lucky fuck. “And your hands. Why are you bleeding?’
“I’m fine, buddy. Just go to the car. I need to talk to Uncle Jake real quick.”
Hunter looks to me then back to Jake before he nods his head and walks from the shop.
I locate a towel and start wiping off my head. The blood is seeping from my wound pretty good. I will probably require stitches. Good thing my wife is a trained RN. Even if she weren’t, I wouldn’t give a fuck. I’d still have her fix me up.
Jake pulls on my arm to get my attention. At first, he says nothing. He only waits for me to tell him what’s going on. The worry is blanketed across his face.
“What the hell, man?”
“Tank and Victor came for me. I have to get out of here,” I say as I scramble around, finding some of my belongings, things I might need on the road when we get the hell out of this place.
“What did you do?” Jake yanks the bag from my hands, demanding I talk to him.
“They want me to join up with them. I told them no, end of story. Now I have to go.”
“Did you kill them?”
“No, but their knocked on their ass a couple blocks down the street. Seriously, Jake,” I let out a breath and keep my focus digging into his eyes. He has to see how serious I am right now. “They threatened my family—Cami and Hunter. I have to get out of here. I’m leaving, and I’m not coming back.”
“What do you mean, you’re not coming back? Where the fuck are you going to go?” Jake pushes on my body until my back is against a wall. I try to get him off me, but he keeps me pinned to the steel side.
“Back the fuck off me!” I shout, knowing at any moment I w
ill lose my sanity again and release all my rage on my brother.
“Fuck you, dude!” Jake punches me in the gut, and I copy his movement.
I manage to push him away from me then hold up my hands. “If I don’t leave, they will never leave me alone. They will always be around, and I cannot have my family’s life in danger. I have to get out of here.” I step to him and look him in the face. “Please believe me, brother, you would do the same if it were your family.”
I don’t look at him as I make my way from the shop and to my car where Hunter is already strapped in the back seat. I pull from the shop then look to my son in the review mirror. It will be hard for him to leave, but I will not go through this again. I will not let Tank and Victor approach me once more. I was lucky this time, but if I encountered them again, I could risk getting incarcerated or worse—dead.
I am so incredibly tired when I walk from the hospital. We had two gunshot victims and another two teenagers came in overdosing from heroin. Today is one of those days where I could say the hell with it and walk out on this career forever. I know I will feel completely different tomorrow because you will get those patients who come to the emergency room, not because of the crap they are into, but because they were in a car accident or have a child with a serious illness. Those are the people I really like to help. Working in the ER has made me cold to the horrors that go on in Sulfur Heights.
When Jeremy was involved with my father, I was worried for him, but I didn’t have to see it or experience it day in and day out.
I check my cell phone to see Jeremy already picked up Hunter, and I’m glad.
When I make my way through the streets of this town, I get really depressed. I hope Jeremy’s parole comes through. I think I am ready to take a vacation or, with any hope, move away someday.
I pull into the driveway and park behind Jeremy. As I make it through the door, the blood washes from my face when I see a bloodstained rag sitting on the counter next to the sink.
Everlasting Love Page 9
