I knew what he was really asking me: did the cold-blooded murder of Click that morning bother me. The answer was no.
“Yeah, of course.”
“You know he deserved it, right?”
I nodded. “You don’t steal from family.”
“No. You don’thurtyour family. This was never about the money, but the pain he’s caused us.”
“I hear you,” I replied.
“Good. Because that’s what Click did: he hurt his brothers, his family. He stole from them—me. But worse, he got his brothers hooked on that shit. We sell it, we don’t use it. That shit will kill you quicker than this life ever could. I’m working on getting us out of this shit, fuckin’ hate drugs and the shit stain they leave behind, but it ain’t all down to me. It’s down to Hardy. You feel me?”
“I do. I uhh, that’s part of the reason I’m here, actually.” I looked down, my hands twisted in my lap. The burn from the whiskey was only a distant memory now, but the feel of the tattoo on my arm every time I moved it was enough to let me open up some. It was healing up real nice, and I hoped the new ones healed up half as good.
“Stone, he uhh, he doing okay?” I ventured, finally looking up.
Bull stood up and walked to the tall cabinet in the corner of the small office with a sigh. He pulled open the top drawer and slid out a bottle of Jack before answering. “That requires a two-part answer. No, he’s not okay. He hasn’t been okay for a long time—way before the drugs, if I’m honest. Anyway, regardless of that, if he wants to stay with the Highwaymen, he better get better.” Bull came back to the desk, glasses and whiskey in hand.
I nodded. “I might be able to help.”
Bull quirked an eyebrow at me and sat down. He poured us both a drink and pushed a glass toward me. “Go on.”
“I uhh, I have experience with drug addicts,” I ventured. “My mom, she was sick for a long time. I saw her through a lot of attempts at getting clean.”
That was as much as I had been prepared to give out regarding my past. I couldn’t give away any more without him getting suspicious.
Bull nodded and sipped the JD as he leaned back in his chair again, his hard stare on me, no doubt taking in every twitch and telltale sign. Good thing I was used to hiding everything so well. I grabbed the JD and swallowed it down in one go.
“My little brother,” he finally said. He took another sip like he wanted to wash away the words from his mouth. “My little brother gave in to addiction. It didn’t end well.”
“He dead?” I asked bluntly, hoping he wouldn’t ask me the same of my mom.
“Nah, but I haven’t seen him in at least ten years, so who really knows anymore, right?” He stared out the office window, looking in at the busy clubhouse. “It’s how I got into this life. I was breaking and entering, street fighting, and eventually ready to do armed robbery to get the money together for him and his addictions, when I was taken in here by the previous president.” He looked back at me, and I knew he saw directly into my soul, at the evil and the pain that was buried there, ready to suck me under at a moment’s notice. “I tried to get my brother involved here, but it was too late for him. That one-way spiral I was on is what I saw in you, kid. It wasn’t no accident that I bumped you at that bar.”
I frowned at him, his words making sense but his motive not.
“So you what? Tried to save me?” I scoffed, feeling shocked and annoyed with him.
He let out a laugh. “I guess you could say that, but it wasn’t how I saw it. I just thought I could put that anger of yours to better use. The saving part is all on you, kid, because no one can be saved that doesn’t want to be.”
I looked away from him, wishing I hadn’t gone in there. I didn’t want to hear any of that. Jesus, I just wanted to ask if I could help Stone out with anything, maybe fucking let him know that he had people believing in him or some shit.
“You ain’t ready to save yourself, not yet. And I ain’t here to preach to you about it. That shit is on you, not me. But just like you want to help Stone, the club is here for you too. We do what needs to be done for one another. No questions asked.”
I looked back at him quickly, letting his words sink in. His hard stare was unnerving me, like he was trying to tell me something. Like maybe he fucking knew what I had done. But I couldn’t be sure, and I wasn’t ready to talk about it. Either way, the mess I had left behind when I had left home was my mess, and my mess alone. I wouldn’t take anyone down with me.
“But Stone, huh? You think you can help him? Be my guest. Right now, I’m guessing he could use all the help he can get. Brother was tanked on crank last night when I dragged his sorry ass to rehab, but I got a call before you came in here that he left two hours after I checked him in. He’ll be coming back here, even though he knows it’s the last place he should be.” Bull swallowed the last of his whiskey and put his glass down. “If you see him—when you see him—you come to me.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked cautiously.
“Well I’m not going to fucking kill him, if that’s what you’re thinking, Dillon. He needs help, and I’m going to give it to him in the form of the Devil’s Highwaymen.” Bull stood up and walked toward the door. “If he won’t stay in rehab we’ll bring rehab to him. It’s messy, but we’ve done it before.” He opened the door and I stood up, guessing that our talk was over. I was glad too, yet it felt like there was something unspoken between us—an understanding that I actually didn’t yet recognize.
But I trusted Bull. That much I knew.
“Kid?” he called, and I turned back to look at him. “Get one of the girls to cook you something to eat. You might be a good fighter, but you’re only good to me if you’re alive, and right now it’s like looking at a ghost.”
I dragged a hand across my beard. “All right.” I turned to leave before turning back. “One last thing.”
