by Ker Dukey
My cell chirps, making me startle and rush over to the bed.
Alec: Hey. Meet me at our spot. 10 pm.
Nervous bubbles fizzle and pop in my gut. He’s never been distant. It’s just a text, but it feels…cold.
Drew: How do I know this is you?
Irrational? I don’t give a shit. His dad tried to strangle me.
Alec: Baby, just meet me. I need to feel you.
Tears blur my vision as I read and re-read the message. I need to feel him too, but I can’t escape the pit in my stomach telling me to run.
I text Mason, asking him to meet me ten minutes before I have to meet Alec, he replies agreeing, which settles me a little. I’ve never felt afraid of him before, but there’s crawling under my skin—a warning I need to take heed of.
I stick to the shadows, cautious, every sound sending my pulse skipping. Music from the clubhouse hums, vibrating the air around me. The silhouette standing by our bench is unmistakable. I want to weep with relief. My feet sprint off running and the weight of my body barrels into him, my arms wrapping around his neck, legs around his waist. “God, I missed you,” he whispers against my cheek. It’s only been a couple days, but it feels like more, so much more.
“What the hell is happening? I can’t get ahold of my dad. My aunt is freaking out,” I say, my voice broken. I slip down his body, my eyes looking up to see a slit through his brow, raised and bloody, stitches holding the skin together.
My mouth pops open. “Oh my God, did your dad do that?” I reach up, running my fingers along the cut.
Shaking his head, he shrugs. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing, Alec. That’s going to scar.”
“So we’ll match.” He smiles, staring at my face like he’s trying to memorize it.
A gasp leaves my lips as my eyes drop to his cut.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
“You got patched in?” I breathe disbelief, staring at the space where it used to say “prospect.” How…when? Stabbing pain sears through me.
“Yeah, babe. I’m a Bastard by blood and leather now.” He looks guilty of the fact.
“When? Is this why you haven’t been in touch?”
“Yeah…you know how my old man gets.”
My face flinches at the mention of his dad. “How? And so soon? It’s unheard of.”
“Babe, I’ve been a prospect since leaving the womb. I’m Alec Walker.”
“No. You’re just Alec to me,” I exhale. Everything is changing. There’s been a shift. It’s palpable in the air between us. “So, that means no running away with me, huh?” I smile meekly, kicking dirt around with the tip of my tennis shoe.
“You don’t need to run anywhere. My old man was pissed, but he didn’t mean to hurt you.” He strokes hair from my face, his eyes unfocused, glassy. Acid burns my throat.
“You’re so full of shit. Since when did we start lying to each other, Alec?” I tug down the neck of my sweater, showing him the bruising there.
“Motherfucker,” he grinds out.
“Didn’t mean to fucking hurt me, why the hell did you attack him then?”
“Fuck,” he grinds out, running his hands through his hair and pacing. “It’s complicated. Can you just trust me when I say you’re safe? You’re my ol’ lady, no one, including my old man, will touch you now. I’m patched in.”
God, does he really believe his dad will allow that after the way he attacked me? Something big has gone down. There’s no sweeping this under the rug. How could I ever feel safe here after this?
“Ol’ lady? Alec, we’re fucking kids to them. They’re not going to take us seriously.”
“Of course they will. We’ll get married, and you’ll live with me here.”
No. No. No. I don’t even recognize the man before me. Why would he risk me going back there? “You really believe we should get married and live at the club? What about school and our plans to travel?”
He reaches for my hands, stroking the pads of his thumbs over the backs.
“Things change, Drew. We can travel when the time is right.”
“Why is now not the right time?” Run away with me, Alec, I want to scream, but I need him to want that, to choose me.
“Because I’m newly patched in. It comes with responsibilities.” He drops my hands, closing his eyes for a second.
“Is this really what you want?” I ask, desperate for him to tell me what’s really going on his mind. I’ve known this boy since he was eight years old. He’s hiding something. He’s frowning like it’s physically paining him to say the words. “What the hell did your dad mean when he said ‘sins of the father’? What did my dad do? Do you know?” I outright ask him. If he lies, he erases everything we are, were. Setting my soul on fire. I need him to be honest, to show me he’s got my back.
“Drew,” he says my name on a shallow breath.
No. No. No. What is he keeping from me?
“Just tell me if you know. Do you know where he is?”
He just stares at me, begging me to drop it with his intense glare. It’s too late to go back. It’s too late for us. I feel it in the marrow of my bones. A frantic rush of fear and anxiety forces my blood screaming through my veins. My hands begin to tremble. “Your silence is destroying me.”
Sickness stirs inside me. I lower my face to the ground. Looking at him hurts. “Just tell me…” I plead.
“Drew…”
My soul aches with how brokenly he says my name. “Stop saying my name for fuck’s sake!” I screech. His eyes flit to the fence separating us from the club.
“I…” he starts, but my phone rings, stopping him.
“My aunt.” I roll my eyes, unlocking the phone, trying to fill my lungs so I can breathe.
“What is it?” I ask down the receiver. My aunt’s frantic mumbles bellow through the line. “He’s dead. They killed him. Dumped on the lawn.”
“What? Who?” I ask in a daze, already knowing the answer. My head becomes foggy as my legs weaken beneath me.
“Mitch. He’s dead on my lawn. Oh God…oh God.”
“No…no...no….” My stomach knots, twisting. I gaze up at Alec. His face loses all color, and my eyes fill with rivets of tears. My phone drops to the grass as my legs give way and my knees hit the ground.
“Drew…” He rushes toward me, and I can’t hold my hand up to stop his approach.
“Don’t come near me!” I scream. “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God,” I weep, gasping for air. Why can’t I breathe? My body convulses, heaving up bile. They killed him. The club, where I spent more than half my life growing up, killed him.
“Drew…baby, please.” His words are meaningless. What can he possibly say to make this okay?
“Who did it?” I look up at him, wiping my mouth clean.
“Did what?” he asks, and rage washes through me, the world becoming red.
Eleven
Alec
A second later…
Fuck! How is this happening? Moments ago, she was in my arms. I was breathing her in, forgetting how much has changed in the last couple days. I'm different now, and she is too.
I don't know what to say. I fucking hate Mitch for what he did, but he was still her dad, and now she's going to hate me. I can't bear for that to happen, but there's no getting away from it. What the fuck am I supposed to do? The body was never supposed to be found. My old man told me he would be buried and just go down as missing. How has his body already been found?
"Who did it?" She looks up at me, wiping her mouth clean.
"Did what?" I ask, knowing I'm a cunt. She's on her feet in an instant, pummeling her fists against my chest.
"How dare you! How fucking dare you! Who did it? Who killed him?" she bellows, hysterical, tears leaking from her eyes, her palm slapping me across the cheek with such force, my head whips to the side. I grab her hand as she goes in for another slap and pull her against my chest.
"He was talking to the feds," I whisper against her hair. I don't a
dd that he fucking killed my mom. She doesn't need to know he was capable of that.
Hiccupping, she pulls away, utter destruction pouring off her in waves. I know what it feels like. I've been where she is. The agony of losing my mom is raw, and learning she was murdered was like having salt poured into the wound. She stares at my patch, shaking her head. "Oh my God, it was you, wasn't it?" She stumbles away from me, her eyes wide.
"Drew," I say, edging forward.
Her arms wrap around her waist as she bends over, retching, a horrific sob ripping from her body. My fucking heart breaks. I've never seen her like this before. She’s tough—my rock. Fuck. I want to help her, but I don't know how.
"We're done," she states so calmly, it's haunting. She rises to stand, her hands dropping to her sides. Every emotion wipes clean from her face. She’s morphing right in front of me, turning it all off, numbing the pain. "We're so fucking done," she adds, turning away from me.
"Drew, don't! Let me explain shit."
She ignores me and begins walking away. I grab her phone and follow behind her.
"It's not what you think. Let me explain."
Her strides become faster and faster, until she's at a flat-out run.
"I have your phone. Please wait, let me explain."
When she passes the entrance, Mason’s waiting there. He watches her run past him and jumps out to stop me. "Let her go, man."
"Get the fuck off me." I shove him to the ground.
"Alec, let her have tonight to deal. Go see her tomorrow. You owe her that much," he barks up at me from where he landed.
My heart races. Her conviction when saying we were done was like being hit with a sledgehammer. "What the fuck are you even doing here?" I spit out, pain and anger coursing through me, conflicting with each other, leaving me exhausted.
"She called me. Asked me to be here in case it was a setup."
"What the fuck?" She didn't trust me.
"She didn't know if your dad sent the text."
She doesn't even like Mason, that's how desperate she felt.
"What the hell would you have been able to do if it was him?" I throw my arms in the air, fuming.
"Tell you what happened if it was him and she ended up in the lake." He gets to his feet, brushing off his legs. "Dick,” he adds.
"I can't leave it like this…leave her the way she was." I run my hands through my hair. "Fuck."
"Just give her some time."
"How the fuck did this happen?"
"I only know what I heard and saw from you two." Mason shrugs.
Blazing through the clubhouse, I barge into my old man's office. All eyes look over at me, Jimmy's hand on his weapon.
"What the hell?" I bark.
"Start again," my old man growls.
"Drew's aunt called her. They found the body."
"Wasn't hard. We left it on her lawn.” Kai smirks.
Motherfucker. I fly at him, catching him with a closed fist to his jaw. His chair falls back, knocking him to the floor. Jimmy has me in an arm lock within seconds, face planting me on my old man's desk.
"You have a nasty temper, boy."
Kai is on his feet, his knife unsheathed. "Fucker." He glares.
"Let him up," my old man instructs. I'm pulled up and shoved away.
"Mitch was a fucking rat. A message has to be received when a brother betrays his own. He deserved more than what he got. He killed your fucking mother—the woman who brought you into this world. His Prez's fucking wife."
"But Drew…you said…"
"Fuck Drew. She's lucky she got her claws in you young. It's only because you love her that she isn't naked and leashed to my fucking desk. Anyone else would have been." He points his meaty finger at me. "I'm giving you her. Don't ask me for more. There’s nothing to give."
I turn and leave without another word. I get three feet out the club's front door when a burning sting crosses my neck. My palm goes there automatically, wetness oozing on my fingers. Blood. I twist my head to see Kai standing behind me. "You wear my mark now, fucker."
I want to challenge him to a bare-knuckle match, but I need to get to Drew.
"This isn't over," I warn him, and he grins like the senseless fool he is.
"Trying to turn me on, little Walker?" he taunts. A couple prospects nearby snigger, and repeat his jab. "Little Walker, I like it."
Fuck them all.
Climbing on my bike, I ride off to find the only person who matters. If she wants us to travel, we'll go. Fuck the promise I gave my old man, agreeing to patch in and stick around for Drew’s free pass. She shouldn’t need one anyway, it’s bullshit.
I pull up and park a couple houses down from her aunt’s. Police tape blocks off the perimeter. There’s a tent set up on the lawn, cops covering the premises. Shit. Pulling out my phone, I shoot Heidi a text and wait. Forty minutes later, her stupid pink Camaro pulls up. What a waste of a machine.
Pulling over, she winds her window down and looks over at me. "What do you want me to do?"
"Go down there, tell them you're a friend of Drew's and she asked you to come over."
"What's going on down there? It looks bad, Alec."
"You going to keep asking questions or you going to do me this favor? I need this, Di." Using her nickname seems to soften her up. Stepping out the car, she smiles up at me.
"Of course I'm going to do it. We're friends, right?" She bats her fake lashes.
"Yeah." I lift my chin, gesturing with my hand for her to go.
Ten long minutes later, she walks back across the yard, wiggling on stupid heels. Why the hell she's wearing a full face of makeup and heels is beyond me. I got her out of bed for this shit. "She's gone." She shrugs.
"What?"
"She's not here. Her aunt said she came home, packed a bag, and took off. Told me not to look for her here anymore." She grimaces, stroking my arm. "Alec, are you okay?"
No. I'll never be okay again. She fucking left me.
I drive back to the club in a haze of disbelief. She's hurting now. She’ll come to her senses and reach out to me. She has to. She needs me the same way I need her. Fuck, why is it so hard to breathe?
As soon as I pull up to the club, I jump off my bike, dropping my helmet to the ground. This isn't happening. This can’t be happening.
The bar is busy tonight. I march straight out back. The fire pit is in full blaze, the brothers sitting around it, drinking and having a good time. I spot Kai and make a beeline for him. "You," I bark, pointing at him. "Two hundred I knock you out in under two minutes," I wager.
This gets the interest of the brothers. Whistles and jeers ring out as a crowd forms. I throw my t-shirt over my head entering the circle drawn in the mud surrounded by bloodthirsty brothers.
"Remember, you asked for this." Kai spits phlegm to the ground and rolls his shoulders. He comes at me, fists raised.
I jab out—one, two—hitting him in the ribs. He drops his elbow to protect them, and I spring off my back foot. Using all the power in my back leg, hip, and shoulder, I crack him in the temple. He staggers a few steps, and I hit out again, relentless. Bam—bam! He collapses to the grass without ever getting a hit in. They call him “Killer” because he is one, but he needs a weapon to do it. Me? I am a weapon.
My brothers boom in appreciation.
"Who's next?" I bark.
"Me!" an older brother shouts, guzzling down his beer before crunching his knuckles. "Go easy on me, little Walker. I'm not as agile as I used to be." He chuckles, gaining slaps on the back as he enters the circle.
Bets go around, money exchanging hands. He's easily got eighty pounds on me, but it's fat, not muscle. He moves, but he's slow, swiping out and missing me. "It takes twice as much effort to swing and miss than it does to connect," I taunt.
Coming at me again, he tries kicking at my shin like a cheating bastard. "Slippery little fucker, aren't ya, kid?" he growls.
"I'm fast. There's a difference." I punch out, catching his jaw. It p
isses him off. He attempts to ram me, his shoulder aiming at my waist. He gains contact, almost knocking me off my feet as I skid on the grass. If he can play dirty, so can I. I bring my elbow down on his skull and punch the side of his face with the other hand, my rage fueling me. He releases my waist, dropping to a knee. I let loose a flurry of hits—bam, bam, bam! Blood spatters from his nose, spraying me like a shaken can of beer. "Arghhh," I roar, pounding until he falls unconscious. White noise buzzes in my ears. A haze clouds my mind. I need this—to block it all out.
"Fuck. He's not a kid, he's an animal," someone rumbles, and then they all chant, "Animal! Animal! Animal!"
Twelve
Drew
An hour earlier…
The police are all over the house and lawn by the time I get home. They won’t let me pass at first, until my aunt begins shouting for me. I don’t want to see what they did to him, but I can’t look away from the white sheet placed over his body.
Thud.
“They killed him,” she cries. “Dumped him on my lawn.”
Shit, is that all she cares about—the inconvenience of where they disposed of his body? “Do you think they’ll be coming for you—me?” she wails.
“No. Calm down. You’re safe.” I don’t know if that’s entirely true. I do know if they wanted her, they’d already have her.
“Ma’am, we need you to go inside so we can ask you a few questions,” an officer tells my aunt.
“What’s going to happen?” I ask him, tears bleeding from my eyes.
“I’m sorry. I can’t tell you anything right now.”
Racing inside, I pull a backpack from under the bed and stuff in the few pieces of clothing I have here.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her red-rimmed eyes matching mine.
“I’m leaving and never coming back,” I tell her honestly.
“Where will you go? Back to those criminal, murdering thugs?” If she didn’t have such an ugly personality, she would be an attractive woman. A decade younger than my dad and bitter as all hell, it kept men away. Her selfishness kept friends away. Her lack of empathy and love will keep me—the only family she has left—away.
