Reed and I split up a few miles back. I know he’s headed straight back to the club. He’s barely spent any time there since we all got word that Kyle was in the hospital. I’d go back to the club soon, but there’s someone I need to check up on. Ever since Chris called I’ve been worrying my ass off about Angel. She’s just the type of woman who’d make any man worry, there’s nothing she can do about it. I just think she inherited it from our Mom. Well, the drugs may add to my worry, but it’s mostly from Mom.

It pays to have a friend in the force. Chris patrols the part of town where Angel frequents and when I can’t check up on her, I can always count on Chris to do it. Honestly, I check up on my sister more then Chaos does. He’s shaken his head too many times at her being a druggie but I think he forgets that we were all druggies once upon a time. The only difference is that we kicked our addictions, but Angel didn’t have the strength to do it. I don’t doubt that she could have the strength, cause she’s strong as fuck...she just needs the willpower and commitment to want to get clean. Unfortunately, that’s not something I can help her with. She has to do that on her own.

A gust of wind brushes up against me out of nowhere and catches me off guard. Hard to believe that Thanksgiving has already come and gone and Christmas will be here in a little over a month. I want to tug my cut a little closer to my body, the same cut that still reads prospect. I wonder if there will be a day that I’ll ever be a full patch...It’s wishful thinking, that’s for sure. Reed still holds what happened to Dais’ against me and has every right to do so. Until the end of time I will always carry the weight, knowing that my actions are the reasons those damn loan sharks got ahold of her and tortured her for months. I won’t ever forgive myself for allowing it to happen, for leaving her and going to save Angel...but if I didn’t go my sister would be dead. It may have been the most selfish thing I’ve ever done, but...if I didn’t do it then I’d be living with regret.

The question is...which is better, guilt or regret?

Neither.

I pull up to her usual spot, a shitty little abandoned house on the edge of town, and take a deep breath. No matter how many times I’ve stopped here to check on her I always prepare myself to see her dead body, even if it’s the last thing that I want to imagine. I have to face myself with the potential of seeing that reality. Whenever I walk in and see that she’s alive, doped up like usual, I have to then swallow every bit of me wanting to help her. I remind myself that she’s homeless for a reason. It’s not like I don’t want to help her. I do. I just know my sister, and even though her name is Angel, she sure isn’t one.

Angel would steal everything of value from the club and then use it to go get the best high of her life. That I can guarantee.

I turn off my bike, dismount and walk straight up to the door. I don’t bother knocking, it’s not like anyone is going to be lucid enough to open it for me anyways. I push it open, listening to the awful creak it makes as it swings on its hinges. I leave the door wide open, and maybe something’s wrong with me for doing that this time of year. If the heroin hasn’t killed them then the cold sure as hell won’t. I’ll shut the door when I leave, it’ll be open for maybe ten minutes tops.

Weaving in and out every room I come upon old mattresses strewn all over the floor. There are at least half a dozen of them- some of them occupied by people, others are empty. All of them are dirtied and stained. I don’t even want to think about what kind of stains those are, but there’s no mistaking the dried blood on some of them. Old newspaper covers the windows, barely letting in a sliver .

“Still a prospect I see?” Angel’s voice comes out of nowhere. Her tone is teasing and her words are clear, telling me that she’s not high right at this moment. I wonder if she’s about to use, it’d be the only reason she’s at this house. Then again, where else would she go? She doesn’t have a home anymore.

I turn, surveying the room to look for her. When I see her emerge from a closet opening, it reminds me of something out of a horror flick. “What’s it matter to you?”

She tilts her head, smirking as she walks, or shall I say weaves in my direction. “We both know it’s my fault you still wear that label. I wonder Pain...do you hate me for it?”

I take a moment and really focus my eyes on her. I realize that she hasn’t used heroin but she has used something else. I’m just wondering what’s her poison of choice these days. “It’s a patch, not a label and we both know I couldn’t hate you even if I wanted to.”

Angel curls her lips, approaching me and runs her hand over my forearm. “You’re adorable, you know. Even after everything, you still love me.”

I close my eyes shut, rolling them. Dumb girl will never understand: she;s my baby sister; I’ll always love her. “What’re you on right now?” I regret asking the second my question slips out. Her eyes fall to something Bambi like, almost as if she forgets that I know she’s an addict.

I have to fight every urge inside me to not do anything, to leave her here to fend for herself and hope that one day she’ll just decide to change, but I know it’s a load of horseshit. It’s the sole reason I grab my phone and text Trick to meet me here in a grocery getter. She’s not gonna like what I have planned, but at the end of the day I’m not going to let her do this to herself anymore. I’m tired of watching her circling the drain. If I don’t act now she’s going to die.  

There’s a huge risk with bringing her back to the club, especially now while everything else is going to shit. I just can’t live with myself any longer. Angel needs a home. She needs to know that people love her, even if Chaos has a hard time showing it. She has the both of us, and she always will.

I stand here, surveying every part of her, noticing how she’s lost a bit more weight since the last time I’ve seen her. She’s calm as hell, but still has that mischievous spark. Her silence confirms she’s on something. I’ve never seen her this zen in my life. “It’s pills” I say aloud. Her eyes flicker up to me before she looks off into the distance.

I text Chaos and tell him that I’m bringing Angel to the club. He’s not going to like it, but he’ll damn well deal with it. I can’t keep leaving her to live her life like this, if she even has much of one in the first place.

The slam of a door alerts me back to my surroundings and then I see Trick walking into the house. “Over here,” I call out to him.

He approaches me chuckling, instantly noticing Angel. “Well, what do we have here? How’d you know I’m into bad girls?”

She giggles, moving from me over towards him. “I’m quite the bad girl.”

I glare right at him, “Angel’s my sister and I need you to drive her back to the club.”

“Oh, I bet you are sweetheart. You look like it.” He mumbles down to her. I know he can tell that she’s fucked up and needs our help.

“I don’t think you’ll have any problems with her on the way over. She looks to be pretty calm right now” I comment and he nods.

“No, she’s fucked up. Later is another story. I’ll get her in the grocery getter and back to the club stat, but brother...you need to tell Reed. I know he doesn’t care when it’s family...but shit, she’s gonna be stirrin’ things up when she starts going through withdrawal. That’s for sure.”

“I know, Trick. Trust me, I know.”