I pinch my black onyx crystal around my neck with my fingers, praying it’ll give me the strength I need to keep my shit together.But I fucking doubt it.
Zion whistles, opening the door to the Rimac Nevera R that’s worth more than all the cars in Daringhood put together.Two cars sit on our side of the train tracks, with a note stuck to one of the windshields.I take it, reading over the black ink.
They’re not your guns, but they’re something.Let’s meet.—Gage
Of course, they didn’t deliver the guns Dominic owed us.Fucking assholes.Once more, the Daringville rich pricks have screwed us over because we’re from the wrong side of the tracks.
Scrunching the note up, I flick my lighter.Flames dance into the night, and the note vanishes into ash.
I should light the cars on fire, too, as a sign that we don’t want their attempted peace offering.They’ve already made their bed, and they’ll lie in it.
Fuck them and Freya, the woman who left Daringhood for the men who lead Daringville.My heart skips a beat.I’ll never truly hate her—she’ll always be my best friend—but she chose them over me, and that hurts more than I’d ever admit out loud.We were both there for each other during a time when no one else was.She’s family.
“It’s something,” Zion mumbles, opening the door and running his hand over the steering wheel.
“Bear would love these,” he says.
I nod.“But fuck them and their shit offerings.We want our weapons.”
“You might not want their handouts, but we need the money.”Zion pauses, scratching the back of his head.“I need this money to build a place for my daughter.”
Guilt punches me in the gut, and I nod.
“Message Joey to take them to his garage and put them up for auction.I’m sure someone from Daringville or the surrounding towns will want them.”
I start walking away, lighting up a joint.The smoke fills my lungs, but it does fuck all to relax my tense shoulders.We can use this money to buy the weapons we were owed.To build our army and take more power from them—The Brotherhood.
Zion falls into step with me; he doesn’t say anything.A man of few words.Being around him is easy.He doesn’t fill every second with noise just because.Most people hate the silence, scared of hearing their own thoughts.Always planning what to say next, what to ask.With Zion, he only says what he needs to—nothing more, nothing less.
“Where’s Bear?”I ask, taking another drag and passing it to Zion.
He points up the road to one of the old train station buildings, the one we left Bear and Lucas in hours ago.I thought Bear would be done with The Brotherhood leader by now, but maybe not.
When we get there, the door to the station is half open.Zion kicks it in.The loud bang of the wood hitting the wall echoes through the quiet space.I follow him inside and into a dark, open room.Chairs line the walls, half ripped up and sitting sideways or completely broken.
No one’s here, but there’s fresh blood on the ground.Hopefully Lucas’s and not Bear’s.Where the fuck is he?
After shoving my hand into my pocket, I grab my phone and hit dial on his number.It rings out.Fuck.
When Bear’s missing, there’s trouble.He’s one of my closest friends, but he’s unpredictable—never going along with a plan, always fucking it up and doing whatever he chooses.It makes him a liability, and it grinds on my last nerve.I need to know everything—every last detail.Bear knows this but still defies me.
We head back outside and start walking toward the trailer park.I bring the last of the joint to my lips, even though it’s done fuck all to relax me.I throw it to the ground, then shove my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket.
Zion sucks in a breath and points past the trailer park to the amusement park.Red-and-white lights beam into the sky, and I curse.If Bear is at his park and the lights are on, he’s entertaining someone, and who knows what condition they’ll be in by the time we get there?
Ten minutes later, we reach the entrance to the park.That stupid fucking clown stares right through me, sending a shiver down my back.Fucking hate clowns.Bear is obsessed with his playground.When he found it when we were like thirteen, he fell in love and claimed it as his.
He’s lived here ever since, restoring the rooms and making it his playhouse.I hate coming here.Everything is messy, unorganized, and unpredictable—three things I hate most in this world.It fits Bear perfectly.
Zion opens the latch to the back of the building next to the clown and disappears down the stairs.I pull the door shut behind me and descend the dark stairs as well.The metal creaks under my feet with each step.At the bottom, Zion parts the red-velvet curtain, and we move through.
A large L-shaped couch sits in the middle of the room.The walls are covered in graffiti and mirrors.Bear and his mirrors.The bright-red carpet burns my eyes.It’s different, but nothing like the rest of his playground, which I refuse to go through.Once is enough; I’ll never walk through that horror show again.Not if I don’t have to.
“Can you go find him and bring him back here?”I fall back onto the couch, and Zion disappears through the curtain again.
I run my fingers through my hair.What the fuck do we do now?It’s time to take action against The Brotherhood.We’ve waited long enough, but the new leaders—they’re weak.I’m done playing games.
They took someone from me a long time ago, and I’ve been waiting for my time to avenge her.We never stood a chance, but now—with the young boys at the helm and Lucas in custody—maybe we do.War is coming to their doorstep, and I won’t stop until I have my revenge.
