PROLOGUE
MARCUS
Using his butt, Marcus pushed open the back door and let himself into the kitchen.
“Oh good. You’re back,” Marcus heard his stepmother say as he walked through the door.
His back was to her, so he couldn’t see where she was. He let out a huff as he dropped the bags of groceries onto the kitchen counter.
“What did you bring?” his stepmom asked, shoving Marcus out of the way so she could bend over and begin rummaging through the bags.
“Just the usual—bread, eggs, milk, and meat for dinner,” Marcus answered, annoyed that his stepmother was acting like a vulture.
It was always the same with his parents; they never did anything to help out around the house, but they were always the first to pick the refrigerator clean when Marcusdid the grocery shopping—which was basically every week.
“Oh good, you’re back,” Marcus’s father repeated as he walked into the kitchen carrying his ragged riding knapsack. The damn thing was older than time itself.
Marcus glanced down at the kitchen table and noticed the small overnight bag his stepmom used for her personal items: makeup, condoms, and travel-sized tequila. All the essentials a biker chick needed when hitting the road with her man.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Marcus asked as his father shoved his wallet into the back of his jeans.
“What does it look like?” his father asked, throwing him a ridiculous face as he picked up a bottle of gin and shoved it into his wife’s bag. “Packing a fuckin’ bag is what we’re doin’.”
“Your dad and I are going to take a ride out west. Hit a few bars, take in some sites. We’ll probably crash at one of those motels by the side of the road. We should be back by mid-next week.”
Marcus looked at them both as they continued to pack like nothing was wrong.
“But… you can’t!” Marcus shouted.
Both his parents stopped what they were doing and looked over at him.
“And why is that?” Marcus’s father asked, straightening up and giving him a pissed-off look. If there was one thingyou didn’t do, it was question the big guy or raise your voice to him.
“You promised to take Ace to the water park today. He’s been looking forward to it all week. I even bought him those gummy wrap things that he likes,” Marcus said, pulling out the box of candy snacks from the bag he was holding.
Marcus’s stepmother scrunched her face. “Oh, Ace doesn’t give a crap about some stupid water park. He probably won’t even remember we said we were going to go when he wakes up.” She returned to her packing. “Don’t worry, we’ll take him another time.”
That was the same thing she had been saying for the past two months. Summer was quickly coming to an end. If they didn’t go soon, his little brother wouldn’t get to go until next year.
“No. He won’t forget. You promised him that you would take him, so you’re going to do it,” Marcus barked back.
His father was suddenly in his face.
“Don’t talk to your mother like that, you hear?”
Marcus glared at the piece of shit that squirted him from his balls twenty-three years ago. While Marcus was all grown and didn’t need shit from his parents, Ace was only ten. He still believed the things his parents said.
“Oh, and make sure you clean up this place before we get back. It’s starting to develop a funky smell around the living room,” his father ordered.
Marcus glared at his father.
One day, the lazy-ass would suffer a little accident. Perhaps his brakes would fail, or he would take a corner too fast, but one day, Marcus’s father and Ace’s mother would not make it back from their road trips.
Shoving a few items into the fridge, Marcus watched as his stepmother helped herself to a few of the things he had just purchased and shoved them into her bag.
Lazy fuckers.
Once the roar of his father’s motorcycle had disappeared down the block, Marcus picked up his cell phone and scrolled through his contact list.
