by Colt, Shyla
The words snap the puzzles pieces together. Jesus shit, he’d fucked up royally. An image in my head of the Titanic hitting an iceberg rose in my mind. He might’ve sunk the unsinkable ship. “Cora.”
“Don’t.” She raises her hand. “There’s nothing you can say, so please don’t feed me any bullshit lines.”
I close my mouth and drop it, because she’s right. “Have you heard from him?”
She sighs. “Yes, he crashed in a hotel last night, he’s alive and that’s all.”
“Did you text him back?”
“And say what? He needed to leave and I need to be silent. At least until I figure out the right words to say.”
I hesitate. I don’t like this. “If he’s reaching out.”
“I should what? Hop on the next plane and drag him back home?” She snorts. “We both know he doesn’t do a damn thing he doesn’t want to, not even for me.”
“That’s not true—”
“Rowan, you haven’t been here full time for almost a year. Things have changed. Did you see how he talked to me like I was no better than a whore the other night? You think that’s the first time he’s done it? Stress levels have been high and it’s brought out the worst in damn near everyone.”
“Why is this the first I’m hearing about it then, Cora! I’m your best friend.”
“Exactly, baby.” Her voice gentles and she cups my face, touching me for the first time since Dallas left. “You deserved that life up there. The peace, the normal and the time alone with Danny. I wasn’t going to ruin that with my drama. You guys have protected me for far too long.”
“We love you,” I whisper.
She brushes her lips over mine. “And I love you too, but this bird has flown the nest.” She smiles. “It was long overdue.”
She’s right, I know it. But on the heels of so much loss, the new reality feels devastating.
There’s a knock on the door. Her arms drop to her side and she frowns. “I’ll be right back. I wasn’t expecting any company.” She opens the door. “Hey, what are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting to you.”
“I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
I recognize Houdini’s voice instantly. My shoulders tense.
“I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”
That’s my girl. Call him on his bullshit.
“Someone should.”
Who the fuck does this guy think he is?”
“Save your lines for someone else, Casanova,” she said. Her voice sounds lighter.
The change in her tone is like a knife twisting in my gut. The Nomad did this, when even Danny and I couldn’t. We’d been usurped buy a pair of brilliant blue eyes, black hair and an angular facial structure. He’s lean, wiry and quiet—and I didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.
“Besides, I’m fine. Ro’s here and we’re getting caught up on everything. Thank you for thinking about me though.”
“I’ll always be here when you need me.”
“You’re sweet, H.”
My teeth ache from the sugar going down in the other room. Dallas brother, you better get your shit into gear and come claim her properly before we’re all fucked.
Danny
My head is full with the different paths the brothers want to take. We’ve been going back and forth for days and I’ve digested it stoically, never agreeing or disagreeing with either side. I don’t want to split this club in half. We’ve been through enough shit. Another blow might make us self destruct. The council got shuffled around like a deck of cards and Brain is now Vice President, thank God. Reaper stepped in and took his spot as Secretary.
“Well?”Scar snarls.
I tilt my head, tired of his disrespect. “I understand that this club has been through some shit and it’s going to take a minute for you to get used to me as P. But if your shady ass throws one more ounce of contempt or disrespect we’re going to take a walk outside and then when I’m done fucking you up, we’re going to talk about your cut. ‘Cause the rules say you follow your President’s lead. If you can’t get down with me at the wheel, then maybe you need to step down.”
“You trying to kick me out? You step up as P and you want to throw your weight around?”
“No, I want to let you know I’m not going to deal with your bullshit tantrums. You want to come at me and try to take the crown? You think you could do a better job? That you know better than the brothers who voted me in? Then, maybe you need to be someone else. Nomad is an easy enough title to hand down.”
Scar’s jaw is ticking, and his muscles are jacked.
I stare him down and silently will him to come at me across the table. Booting him out would give me one less issue to attend and set the bar at the same time. I don’t like loose cannons. I never have.
He gives a quick shake of his head.
Oh boy, you openly challenged me, then you think a weak ass head shake is going to fix this. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”
Reaper smirks and Brain snickers.
“I said no, P. I got no problems with you.”
“Let’s keep it that way. We got enough shit coming at us right now. We can’t be coming apart at the fucking seams.” I shake my head. “I been sitting back listening to you for the past few days and not saying anything. Mostly, because I want to know where each of you stand and why. Secondly, I value your advice. My father trusted each and every one of you implicitly or you wouldn’t be in this room. I’ve listened to the others and what they think and I have a couple schools of thought. Number one priority right now…Tightening the ranks, watching for an attack and sending a shout out to our sister chapters. I want them at the ready. I know you want to get back for Dad. Believe me, no one wants that shit more than me.” I clench my jaw. “But he himself, would tell you it’s too soon after the fact and we need to weigh the risks. Right now, they’re on high alert and not letting anyone new in. We lost the advantage of intel. For now, we need to wait and stabilize.” My piece said, I lean back and turn to Brain.
“I think the P is right. We’re all a little fucked up in the head. It ain’t the right headspace to be in when we’re going to war. It’ll cost us more lives we can’t stand to lose.” He shakes his head. “I reached my quota for burials this year. I don’t know about anyone else.”
Reaper grunts his approval.
“What about Dallas?” Scar asks.
I flinch. “You know as well as I do, he needed to get his shit together. I’m wearing this patch until he comes back and takes my place. We all know he should be the one here.”
“How are we supposed to believe he’ll be reliable?” Scar snaps back.
I’m out of the chair and flying across the table before I realize what I’m doing. My fists connects with his jaw with a sickening crack.
His chair tips and he hits the floor hard. Dazed he lays still, blinking rapidly as he moans.
I push off the table and stand up, meeting everyone’s gaze. “Anyone else got something to say about my brother?”
They all shake their heads.
I nod. “That’s my decision. Now gets some bitches, booze and bodies in this place. We’re in the business of living and it’s time we remember that. This place has been silent for far too long.”
A rumble of agreement spreads through the group and we all stand, then they file out.
I lag behind feeling the crush of the pressure as the noose around my neck tightens. Dallas, you need to get your ass back here. I have no clue what I’m doing. I put on my game face and follow them out, a fraud trying to fill up overly large shoes.
Breath of Life
Dallas
I step out the door of my shoddy hotel room and walk toward the bar. That’s how I’m picking them these days with a place to drink next door. My head is fucked, but I don’t have a death wish, not yet. I just want to silence the voices in my head.
Look at you. I’m not gone a month and you’re fucking up. You’re a disgrace to the
Wesson name, Dallas. All I did to make you toughen up was for nothing.
I can hear him clear as day. I quicken my gait. The lights of the bar are my sanctuary. The liquor goes down easy and makes my brain fuzzy enough to function. My mind is a horror movie stuck on repeat right now, as I relive every strained moment my father and I ever had. You think you can bury things down and ignore, but eventually, they always float to the top like dead bodies bloated seeking to be found.
I didn’t settle this when he was alive and now I have to live with it forever. Did he ever love me? Was there an ounce of pride in him for the man I’ve become? Then, there’s the question that eats at me the most. What did I do to make him hate me so much? I stop outside the bar and pull my cell phone from my pocket. No new messages. I shouldn’t be surprised, but it cuts deep that Cora doesn’t respond to my texts.
She sends pictures of R and updates about how he’s doing, or what else he’s learned, but never anything about herself. Three weeks and the distance between us feels like an endless ocean. I toy with the screen. I want to reach out, but I don’t know what to say. I give in to the masochistic urges inside me and text her. I fucking miss you.
I shove the phone into my pocket and walk into the bar. It’s a Tuesday and the place is deserted except for a few older people sprinkled throughout the room. Probably regulars. I walk over to the end of the bar and the blonde waitress with sad brown eyes comes over. Her skin is worn and leathery. The lines around her eyes and mouth boast of a harsh life. I want to place her in her mid-thirties, early forties.
The white nametag reads Darla. “What can I get for you, handsome?” She smiles at me, leaning down and baring her cleavage.
I narrow my eyes and let her know I’m not interested. “Whiskey straight up, well and keep ‘em coming.” I reach into my pocket and pull out a hundred. Her eyes light up and I scowl. “You save the conversation for the next asshole that comes in and I’ll leave you a nice tip.”
She spins around on her heel and goes to fulfill my request.
I’ve been around enough hoes to know how to shut one down before the shit starts. She’s taking too long to get my drink. The past swallows me down.
Past
The front door open and my spine goes stiff. I glance across the table at Danny who’s happily devouring his pancakes. Dad’s been gone for a week this time and the cereal wasn’t cutting it. While I managed to figure out the pancake thing and make edible offerings, the kitchen had suffered dearly for the learning curve. His boots are a heavy thud on the wooden floor. My guts twist up like a Churro. He rounds the corner and I take him in.
His eyes are bloodshot, his lids are low and his face sports a tan that tells me he’s been in the saddle for awhile.
I pray he’s so exhausted that he’ll just go into his room.
“Dallas.” His voice is gravelly and hoarse.
“Y—yes, Sir.” I struggle to keep my voice steady. He’s changed since mom died. I can’t remember everything, but I know he used to laugh a lot more and spend time with me and my brother. Now, we’re nothing more than a choir in the long list of to-do items he deals with on a daily basis. My hand shakes, so I put my fork down.
“You been doing what you were supposed to while I’m gone?”
“Yes, sir. Gabby’s been here to see us off to school and watch Danny. She makes us dinner too.”
“That’s good.” A ghost of a smile flickers across his face.
My chest expands. I did something to please him.
“When I leave you become the man of the house. I’m glad to see you taking the job seriously.”
“Yes, sir.” I nod my head.
“I’m starving. I’m going to grab something to eat and crash.”
My stomach drops and the pride takes a sharp left to fear. I close my eyes and mentally count to three.
“What the fuck is this, Dallas? Get your ass in here!”
Danny glances up and his eyes are wide.
“Stay here and finish your breakfast, Danny. I’ll go talk to Dad.” I push away from the table and square my shoulders. The steps to the kitchen take forever. I hover in the entryway.
He gestures to the flour lined counter and batter speckled stovetop laden with abandoned cookware. The mixer is still semi full.
I wince as a dollop of batter rolls down the silver bowl.
“You want to explain to me why it looks like a fucking bomb went off in here?” His eyes narrow and he’s using that tone.
It’s same tone which makes me feel like dog poop on the bottom of his shoe. I lower my gaze and shrug. “We were tired of cereal, so I made pancakes.”
“And you didn’t think to clean this fucking mess up?” He knocks the measuring cup into the sink. The metal on metal clanks and clangs as it rolls to a stop. “Shit, Dallas. I gave you a small task. I’ve only been gone a week. You have Gabby looking in on you. You think I want to come home to this shit?” He scowls. “Do I need to get you a full time baby sitter when I go away?”
I shake my head. “No, sir, I was going to clean it up after we finished eating.”
“Fucking hell, I can’t do this with you.” He sighs and glances up at the ceiling. “Sometimes boy, you disappoint the hell out of me. I’m going to skip the food and just sleep. When I wake up, this shit better be taken care of.”
I bob my head. I ruined his homecoming. It crushes me…
I never please him, never satisfy his drive for who I should be. My mind jumps ahead to my teen years.
“…What are you doing? I’m trying to hand this to you. Am I looking at the wrong brother?” He shoves my chest.
I rub my sternum as the room spins and my stomach is protesting any sudden movements.
“Skipping school, getting wasted with those losers you call friends, its drawing unnecessary attention to us, to the club. You fucking know better.”
Spittle flies from his mouth and lands on my cheek. I’m too terrified and nauseous to wipe it off.
“What were you thinking?”
I stare at him, unsure if he actually wants an answer.
“Are you deaf along with being stupid?” He smacks me on the back of the head.
I groan.
“Answer me. I want to hear this shit.”
Because when I’m with them, away from this club and drinking, nothing else matters. They don’t think I’m a fuck up, or berate me at every turn, pushing me to be some ideal that no human could ever live up to. This club is supposed to be founded on freedom, but for me it’s a cage. I want to scream the words in his face, but I know better. He’d happily beat my ass into the ground. “I just wanted to have some fun. It’s not a big deal. It’s not like I’m going to college. We both know that.”
The veins in his neck bulge and I’m on my ass before I know what happened. I blink to regain my vision. My jaw is screaming. Bile is rising in my throat. Heat flashes through my body. I launch to my feet.
“Fuck you!”
His head snaps back and a growl rumbles in his chest. “Fuck me?” He scowls. “I’m trying to make your sorry ass into something useful. I put the clothes on your back and food in your belly. But you want to come at me with disrespect? You think you’re a bad ass now? You want to come at me, try to take my head off. DO it, but I assure you, I will show no mercy and I will win.” He shoves me.
I stumble with the push and my back slams against the wall on the opposite side of the living room. My blood is racing through my veins. My senses are on alert.
“I put too much fucking time and energy into you. You will knock this shit off and straighten up, even if I have to beat it into you.” He clenches his fists and crowds my personal space, drilling holes into me with his gaze.
Like prey caught in a stare down with a deadly predator, I am frozen in place.
“I had such high hopes for you. But you dash them at every turn. Why can’t you just get your head on straight and grow up?” His eyes fill with sadness and the fight drains away.
My
stomach gurgles and I pull away, running for the bathroom. I hit my knees in front of the porcelain just in time to lose everything. I can hear him in the doorframe.
“Like always, I’m going to clean up your mess. You’re moving schools starting Monday. If I so much as hear a rumor that you’re hanging out with those dumb fucks you call friends, we’re going to go a few rounds.”
I close my eyes and grip the bowl tight as I dry heave.
“You hear me, boy?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Good, clean this shit up when you’re done. I’m going out.”
The sound of boots grow distant. The door shuts. I let the tears behind my eyes fall free. My tears mix with puke and snot. I’m a fucking mess and I could care less about it. I’ve disappointed him, yet again. No matter what I do, it’s not right, so I stop trying and it gets even worse. My friends have been a lifeline to an inkling of happiness. With them gone, gray skies loom ahead. I need—just need to try harder. I can do this. I’ve watched him be P my entire life. I will show him I’m worthy. I repeat the familiar mantra, but I don’t believe it. After all this time, I think he’s right. I’m a worthless piece of shit and the only thing keeping me where I am is my parentage.
Present
The bartender sets a shot glass on the table and fills it whiskey.
“Leave the bottle,” I say.
She looks up at me and hesitates.
I reach in my pocket, pull out a few more hundreds and lay them on the counter.
“Whatever you say, honey.” She snatches the cash and shoves it into her leathery cleavage.
Her orange, wrinkled skin makes me shudder. I salute my reflection in the mirror running the length of the bar and toss back my first shot. There will be plenty more where that comes from. My phone vibrates. I hold my breath, afraid to hope. I refill the shot glass, throw it back and pull the rectangular object from my pocket. Is Cora finally addressing me? My hearts beating like conga drums and I laugh. I’m fucking pitiful and useless, a winning combination. My palms are sweaty as I unlock the screen.