Cut twists the cap open on the bottle and hands me a beer. We’re in the middle of an open field not far from the compound. This is where he took me to teach me how to ride. Little did I know that riding on fucking dirt was nowhere near the same thing as riding on the fucking street. I’ve got the scars from the road rash to prove it.
“You know that how your sister turned out has nothing to do with you, right?”
Logically, yeah, I think. “That’s debatable,” I tell him instead.
“How do you figure? You were just a kid, Lick. Nowhere near ready to care for your kid sister. The system is the thing that failed you. Too many families and kids go unnoticed when they need help.”
“I was gonna ask your parents if they would take her in.”
Cut stops mid-drink. “No shit?”
“Yeah. She was thirteen when she took off. I never had the chance to ask, but I needed to get her away from that bitch and that life. I thought if I stayed close, worked and saved some money, that when I turned eighteen I could get us a place and she would be able to grow up. When I came home and I heard that shit the bitch was spewing I knew I couldn’t wait. I was going to take her to your house that night and hope your parents would help, but I never got the fucking chance.” Bringing the bottle to my lips, I welcome the coldness down my throat.
“I’m sorry, man.”
“It is what it is.”
Cut knows the things that I’ve been through in my life. He’s listened to plenty of drunk confessions, yet he’s never once brought any of that shit up. He’s like a fucking vault. Once that shit goes in, it ain’t never coming back out. That’s why he makes such a great leader. We trust him. That’s key. You can’t lead people if there’s no trust. And any one of us would lay down our lives for him.
He’s the only fucker in my life that I trust. Hands down.
“You think your sister went through the same shit you did?”
Just the thought pisses me off. How did I not see the signs? “I’m not sure. I never had the chance to find out. Once Betsy left, I took off.”
I was lucky I had some place to go. I always wondered where my sister ended up. Devin Sr. got the word out for me. Had other charters and other local clubs looking for my sister but it was as if she’d vanished.
“You know you don’t have to go through all this shit alone, Lick. We got you.”
“I know.” I turn and look at my best friend, my president. “But some shit you’ve got to do on your own.”
“I agree, but mourning the loss of a family member is not one of them.”
He, more than anyone, would know. When he found out that a rival MC raped, tortured and killed his sister, his anger consumed him. He was the big brother, the next in line to head the family and the club, and he’d failed one of the people who depended on him. His family needed him. His father needed him, and he wasn’t there. Devin was killed trying to bring his daughter’s body back, and Cut didn’t find out for days afterward. He still lives with that regret.
“There’s shit I gotta take care of that no one needs to worry about. That’s it, man.”
“I hear ya.”
“My sister went down the same fucking rabbit hole that our mother went down and that pisses me the fuck off.” I chuck the glass beer bottle out into the darkness, barely able to hear it hit the dirt. “She was so fucking stupid to think her life would turn out differently doing the same fucking shit. You don’t see me sticking those rigs in my arm.” My hand pounds at my chest. “You don’t see me needing my next fix!” I scream into the night. “Only pussies need that shit!”
Tilting my head back, I take in the night air. “I spent years paying for the selfish ways of my mother. The demons of my past are crawling to get free, and the shit eats away at my mind. The years of memories. I can’t get that shit out, man. Every night they replay. It’s like I’m a fly on the fucking wall watching as adults torture a child. A grown ass woman stroking a barely teenage boy’s dick. Watching some high as fuck bitch take the little boys virginity. Seeing that Teddy fucker as his dick fucks that little boy’s mouth while tears roll down his cheeks. But I’m not watching, man. It ain’t a fucked-up movie. It was my fucking life for three fucking years. I relive that shit on a nightly basis, man.”
My fist beats against my chest. I pound out the pain, out the grief and the hurt of a soul that was lost, probably long before she took off. “Now my sister…” Taking a deep breath, I stand up and set my eyes on my best friend. “She’s lying dead in the fucking morgue on a cold sheet of metal in a cold as fuck room. And that kid who was raped physically, emotionally and verbally—that kid who had all that shit happen to him? It was all for nothing.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
He doesn’t need to rehash the shit I just spewed. He doesn’t need to repeat the words or ask if I’m going to be all right. This ain’t a goddamn boo-boo. My knee ain’t scraped. My sister is fucking dead.
“Now I’m going to go tell my father that his daughter is dead and it’s all that bitch’s fault.”