Love
Take care,
Uncle Milo
My tears fall,and the ink smudges. He’s lived the last twenty years believing we all died. No wonder he freaked out when I said my name. He thought he was staring at a ghost.
I hold the note to my chest as I lie down on the bed. My entire body hurts. It feels like I was hit by a truck. He left me. He said how much he cares about me and still fucking left!
I set the note down and then pick up the photo fromthe kitchen. We look so happy. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss them. I see their faces in my dreams. But I hear their screams in my nightmares.
I glance past my cellphone to the keyring sitting on the nightstand. I pick it up and run my fingers over the three keys. They look like they haven’t been used in years. Two look like house keys, but there’s a weird painted one that’s small. It’s black with Myles and my dad’s initials scratched into the paint.
It's time.
I quickly throw on the robe that’s hanging on the back of the bathroom door. It still has the tags on it. I slip on my shoes and open the door. The rising sun glistens on the morning dew covering the grass. The pool is empty but clean, and even the tiles look brand new. He really did make sure the house was still taken care of all these years.
I take a few moments to walk around the property. A few people are out on their morning walks and wave as they pass. I forgot how nice the neighborhood we lived in was.
My heart beats faster as I slip the key into the lock. I close my eyes as the click signifies the door is unlocked. My fingers tremble as they clutch onto the doorknob.
One…Two…Three…
The door opens. The hinges creak as it swings. It’s like I’m stepping into one of the many dreams I’ve had of my childhood. Broken fragments of memories colliding together before spinning out of control and ending in the nightmare from the morning of the crash. It’s the same every single time.
My phone rings, grounding me to reality. It’s Jaz.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Mi…Mina,” she sobs. “Declan’s dead.”
I don’t say a word. I don’t know what to say. Do I tell her the truth?
“They’re saying it’s a gang from Nuevo Leon.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Rodger said it. He was the one who found the guys…I’m so sorry, Tony’s dead too. And Mac.”
“Why does Rodger think it was a gang from Mexico?”
I know Declan was involved with drugs and weapons trades, but Mexico?
“Apparently, that’s where Rodger’s been. He was following up on a lead about Jocko. One of his sources said that a gang member was bragging about how they were going to go after Declan again. That they ‘sent him a warning’ to back the fuck off of their territory, but he didn’t listen. They were the ones who killed Jocko.”
“Oh my God.” I quickly sit down on the couch. The cushions are stiff from the lack of life in this home for twenty years.
“I know. I can’t believe it.”
“What are the cop’s saying?”
“Cops? You know as well as I do that the guys don’t deal with the cops. Declan, Tony, and Mac are already buried next to Jocko at the old farm. Rodger’s getting the rest of the guys together to go after the gang.”
“What about the club?”
“Cash is taking over.”
“Cash? As in Cassius London?”
