“Hey man, what’s going on?” Abel asked coolly into the phone.
“Shit, dude—I need you to get over here right now!” I was yelling at the top of my lungs—my throat shredding as the words leapt from deep within me.
“Is everything all right?” He was still too calm for how much I wasn’t.
“No. Nothing is all right. Get the fuck over here and bring your damn father. I need fucking help.”
I sucked in a few sharp breaths before
slamming the receiver down and sinking to the floor. Staring at my mother in the other room, I curled up in a ball like a damn foolish coward.
It felt like a lifetime before Abel and Odin came busting in the front door.
“What the hell?” Odin’s broad, menacing frame stood in the middle of the small room, staring over at me.
“I just found her like this,” I mumbled, my voice cracking in the back of my throat. “I didn’t know who else to call.”
Abel pulled me to my feet, pushing me against the wall. “Get a grip.” His eyes bored into mine as he slammed my shoulders harder than necessary.
Without warning, I burst into uncontrollable sobs.
What a fucking bitch move.
“My mom is fucking dead,” I howled into his face. “She’s gone! How the fuck am I supposed to get a goddamned grip?”
My best friend looked down at me as his face softened. “Yeah, man. It’s fucking awful to say the least, and we need to deal with it. Either sit in the corner and be a pussy about this or grow a pair, call the cops, and let us help you.”
Odin put a hand on his son’s shoulder before turning to me. “Do you know who her dealer was?”
I nodded, refusing to make eye contact or tell him who it was. I knew what he was capable of and if anyone was going to make Marcus pay for my mother’s death, it wasn’t going to be anyone but me.
“Kid, we’re going to handle this, but you’re going to have to help us. Can you handle that?”
I nodded again before muttering, “Yeah. I think so.”
Odin’s hardened glare shot from Abel to me before he picked up the phone, dialed, and was barking out orders to his number two within seconds. “Rave, I need you at 390 Walnut Street. Hurry, and come alone. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going.”
Being the president of the Unacceptables Motorcycle Club had its many perks. Being the best friend of his son had them too.
It only took minutes for us to hear a roaring bike pull up out front of the small house. Without even knocking, Rave came onto the scene like an archangel in a leather cut: boots stomping, gun drawn, ax in its sheath strapped to his back. I didn’t know why they called him to butcher until that moment. He was ready for a fight, not for what he walked into.
“Holy shit,” he muttered, holstering his weapon before running a hand over his grizzled jaw. “Cops?”
Odin picked up the phone again. “Yeah.” After he made the 9-1-1 call, Odin sank onto the couch. “Now, when they get here, just be honest. You found her like this, got overly flustered, called us, and we came to help you out—nothing to worry about. If you tell the truth, there’s nothing to remember when they start in with the standard third degree.”
I stood by the open front door, waiting for the blaring sirens to arrive. Everything was never going to be all right ever again and standing there in silence, it sank in hard.
How is this happening?
This can’t be real life.
This has to be a nightmare.
What am I supposed to do now?
My mom was my entire world. It had been just the two of us as long as I could remember. It wasn’t until the year before when I met Abel that my family started to grow. I never really had any friends. I was a total cliché outcast—bullied and pushed around until a senior with a chip on his shoulder and a scary old man ducked into my corner and started sticking up for me. I relied on Abel too much and there was I asking more of him than any friend should ever have to.
After the cops took statements and processed the scene, the coroner came in with a body bag, and my brain snapped. Focus lost, all fucks flew out the window, I saw red.
