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Cut Wide Open

Page 7

   


“It’s time,” Mrs. Jackson’s voice was calm and reassuring. It didn’t matter. I was in a tumultuous sea. No reassurance would settle this storm.
I pressed my hand to the glass one more time, then followed Mrs. Jackson out of the house. There was no long goodbye from Mitchell or Claire. Not that I’d expected there to be. For eight years I’d been invisible to them, why would now be any different?
 
 
Chapter Two Gunner
 

Crack. Hades' fist connected with my jaw. Um-pf. A swift kick from Radar to my ribs. Another hit to my kidney and I wondered if I’d black out.
“Hades! Enough! He’s just a kid!” I heard my Momma shout through tears.
“A kid? He’s six-three and besides Jake, he’s one of the biggest motherfuckers in here. He’s gotta learn if he wants to be a Hades Runner, he’s gotta follow the rules.”
Another hit to my body. I wasn’t sure by whom this time. My vision was going black. I had tried to leave the clubhouse. I’d been here for months, and I needed to see Mouse. I hated that I had disappeared on her right after we fucked. And it was the sweetest fucking gift that girl could’ve ever given me. I’ve been craving it like you wouldn’t believe, that’s why I told these fuckers to fuck off. I was going to see my girl. They didn’t take to kindly to the disrespect.
I heard my Mom yell again. “Hades!”
Fuck, she was crying. I hated when she cried.
Another hit, then finally, “Enough,” Hades shouted. I couldn’t move or get up if I’d wanted too. My vision was spotty. I’m not sure how long I laid there until a few of the brother’s dragged me across the street to one of the houses the Hades Runner’s owned.
Days had passed since my beat down. I could finally get up from my bed without crawling. Good thing it was close to the bathroom. Between throwing up from my concussion and needing water from the faucet, I was glad it was near. Today I could walk, not well, but enough that I was going to walk into the clubhouse, grab a bottle of whiskey and hold my head up high. I would not show weakness to these guys, because, well, fuck ‘em.
I was only three houses away from the clubhouse, but my vision was still spotty. I had to do this without passing out. My hand was reaching for the door when my vision really started to spin. I closed my eyes for a moment and thought of Mouse. I’d get through this and I’d be the strongest fucking man for her. With thoughts of her, my mind steadied enough that I was able to walk through those doors. I got a look from a few of the guys and I gave some equally pissed glares as best as I could muster to the guys that I knew hit me the hardest.

What I didn’t expect to see when I walked in, was my Ma, snorting a line of coke off Hades's dick. “Ma!” I roared. Hades just grinned at me as he pushed her head down. She wasn't the woman I knew anymore. No, she might’ve been in there somewhere, but it became obvious to me she was Hades's coke whore. I was pissed I didn’t see it sooner. Sometimes, as a boy, you see shit how you need to see it. Heck, even as a man, your eyes could play tricks on you, but it was painfully obvious I was missing this vital piece. Hades wasn't my brother, he was the devil that took a grieving widow and turned her out. She used to bake apple pies and now she was between that motherfucker’s thighs. My old man would be rolling over in his grave.
Disgusted with the scene, I grabbed a bottle of whiskey. I don't remember how I made it back to my bed. I barely remembered the weeks that followed, but one thing I knew for sure, was that this wasn't a club of solidarity and brotherhood. This club was the place keeping me from my woman and the place that turned my Ma into a whore. I’d do what I’d need to do to get by. Isn’t that what life was teaching me, to keep on getting by. Mouse was out there, I just needed to hang on.
 
***
It’s been six months since I’d left the clubhouse. The first month, we were on lock down and then after that, I was prospecting. Prospects were expected to be here twenty-four-seven. The one time I told them I was leaving and to fuck off, cost me a near month of being in bed, which just made my prospecting even longer.
Today, I rode away from these fuckers for the first time. I was going to get Mouse. I didn’t give a fuck that she was underage. She was mine and she was no longer going to live with those fuckwit foster parents of hers. They could keep their foster money for all I cared. I was taking care of her.
I practically sped through every light on my way to her house. Six months was a long time, and I cringed when I thought of any of those high school fucks getting near her. I know she wouldn’t go there. But they would try and that thought drove me nuts.
I pulled up in front of her house and the breath left my lungs. It was condemned with boards over the windows and the door. You could tell there was a fire from the black soot covering the siding. My gut turned. No God, please no. I shut the bike off noticing the demolition sign stating that it would be torn down in just four short days. I walked up the broken cement walkway and kicked in the plywood covering the door. The couch was burned and it looked like a fucking crime scene. No. No. No. I stepped over fallen beams. Thick black soot coated everything. The smell of smoke was so heavy in the air that I lifted my t-shirt over my nose so I could breathe. I walked back to her room, not sure of what I’d find. I knew she wouldn’t be there.
“Fuck!” I cursed under my breath when I walked in and saw her room nearly burned down to the studs. If she were asleep in here there is no way she would’ve survived. I just prayed that she wasn’t home when the fire started.
I needed answers. I knocked on Mrs. Ellerson’s door. She was an older lady who had lived there all my life. She was a nosy old hag, she’d know. No one fucking answered.
I walked across the street and banged on another door. Nothing. Where the fuck was everyone? Since when do these people go to work?
One more house and finally Mr. Barker answered. “What is it, boy?” I was breathing hard adrenaline was coursing through my veins.
“What happened to the house across the street?”
His voice cracked. Years of smoking left Mr. Barker with tumors on his voice-box. “Tragic, really. Left her cigarette burning. Killed her and her old man too. Real shame. Happened about a month ago. Whole neighborhood was lit up. You couldn't have missed it. Where you been under a rock or something boy?”