So yes, when Dante disappeared, I said goodbye to everything around me except Bruno. He was the one who guided me, putting up with my horrible detox, paying my hospital bills or just putting on blankets when I was trying to get clean. Fuck, Bruno put up with me like a real brother and he always took care of me, which brings up my other concern. I am now a member of the Soulless Bastard's, which I know he would not approve,andon top of that, Rage became a friend rather than an enemy.
So, in summary, everything Bruno dislikes, I now have a club and his enemy as a friend.
He is going to lose it and I really don't want to disappoint him, not him,butwhen Bruno left, everything turned to shit. I had money and time, bad combination for an unsteady guy like me.
At least I had the task of looking after Sarah, which I failed miserably.
God, there's a storm coming my way.
Bruno doesn't know the whole story between those two, and I'm not going to tell him shit. Not because I want to take care of Sarah. Oh no, I want to take care of my fucking balls. I saw the spark between Rage and her; I was there, remember? Sparkling in front of me.
I can’t forget Sarah's words when she was drugged on the train to Europe, and I can’t deny Rage's complete obsession with her either. Even today, after weeks of losing contact, I found him checking Sarah’s GPSmany times.
That's why I’ll never get involved with a woman, they’re too much trouble.
Can you deny it? Look at Rage and Bruno, the strongest, most independent, testosterone driven guys I know. And there they go, drooling over the same woman. They were both obsessed; they were both bewitched by her.
They suck.
When I accepted to be part of the club, I told Rage that I have a couple of conditions.
Numero uno, I'm a big boy, I didn't want to move into the club, I'm a complicated guy, I need my space when I get caught with those existential attacks I don't handle very well. He accepted it on the condition that I should move closer to the club.
Easy.
I looked for houses around the neighborhood and here I am. I live in the fucking suburbs now. Yeah, you heard that right. I mow the fucking lawn on Sunday mornings, if I’m awake. and I have a giant garage for my beautiful girlfriends, Harley and Audi.
Numero dos, I'm not going to be anybody's minion. I would never be a ‘prospect.’ Rage accepted with blasphemies between his teeth.
Numero tres, I’ll have business outside of the club. I have a job, I am a handler and I have a reputation to maintain, contracts to fulfill. Although since I joined the club, I've turned down a lot of jobs.
I still can't figure out why.
Right now I’m lying on the garage floor, trying to fix some mechanical issues my Harley has. I don't want to sell it, I'm too fond of it, so I make an effort for her.
My cell phone is near my ear on the floor. Bruno had told me not to let it out of my sight, and that's what I’m doing.
The last words that Bruno had said before the battery ran out were that they would arrive in three days at a private airport and that I should pick them up.
The third day, it's tomorrow.
“Hollywood!”
The yelp makes me jerk and I slam my forehead into the Harley.
“You fucking idiot!” I throw a big Allen key down the right side of Rage and end up in the front yard, of course I aim there, I'm not going to smash his face just because he scares me, not like he does!
Fucking psycho. I'm still sore from that fucking hole he put in me the other day.
I heard his sinister laughter.
“It's not my fault if you didn't hear me coming,” he says as he walks around the garage, watching everything closely.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
I walk to the sink and I wash my oily hands.
“I like your house.” he says quietly.
