My life is changing so fast I can barely keep up with it all. Here I am, on the run from the toughest gang in Buffalo and I’ve found a person I share a real connection with. It’s the kind of connection that doesn’t make one bit of sense. I can’t figure it out. Why did she agree to pick me up? How did she even start falling for me?

It doesn’t matter how. What matters is that I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s fucking painful. It’s brutal. It latches onto your heart and makes it ache. Shit, I think I felt like this during the whole thing with Julia, but I can’t remember. That was so long ago. Can you even love when you’re that young?

It’s not love. That’s my new slogan. It can’t be love. If it is, I’m fucked. I’ve felt too much hurt and dealt with far too much bullshit in my life. If this all ends in broken glass and bullets flying, I’ll go crazy. I’ll light this town on fire and watch it burn to ashes, laughing my ass off. That’s just how insane I’ll get.

I don’t know where to turn to next. Everything that happened in Buffalo needs to come to an end. But how? The only person I can go to is my brother. He’s the only one who might have my back. I can’t tell Emma. I can’t get her involved in all of this bullshit.

The only good thing going for me now is that my truck is fixed, though it’s not sounding too pretty. Regardless, I take it up to my brother’s mansion, and park it in the front. He comes out to greet me with two beers in his hand. “I can’t believe you’ve come on your own accord,” he says, throwing his arms around me and smacking my back.

“Don’t make it any worse than it is,” I mutter.

“I’m just messing around, brother,” he says. “So, we cool? I felt weird about the other night. I wasn’t trying to brag or give you any kind of charity. I just meant that if you need a job, you can—”

“Look, Gabe. I appreciate it. Okay? I might take you up on the offer, but right now I have bigger fish to fry,” I tell him. “Let’s head inside before I spill my guts on this gravel here.”

“Alright,” he says, looking worried. We walk into the house and head into the massive living room. Julia looks up at me and I nod at her. She nods back.

I sit down on his leather couch and drink the beer he got me. It tastes like shit, but I’m not going to complain. Gabe looks worried and I know the news I’m about to tell him isn’t going to make him feel any better about things.

“I’m trying to let go of the past,” I tell him, taking another pull on the beer. “You know. It’s not good to hold onto the bad things that happen. What’s the use of that? Just so I can stay angry forever? No. I want to let go. I want to let it all go.”

“That’s good, man,” he says. “It’s all water under the bridge here. I know I fucked up everything,” he says.

I hold my hand up, stopping him. “We were just kids,” I say. “We’re different people now. There’s no going back. What happened, happened. No apologies needed.”

“Okay,” he nods. “So what’s on your mind?”

“Buffalo,” I mutter, looking off into the distance.

“So, you’re finally ready to spill the details? Why exactly have you come back?” he asks.

I look over at Julia, who tries to act like she’s just making some lunch and not listening in. “No ill feelings toward you, Julia, but you shouldn’t be here,” I say.

She drops a butter knife angrily against the kitchen counter and walks out of the room, without saying a word. “Sorry, Soren,” Gabe says. “She’s going through some shit as well.”

“We all are, I guess,” I say.

I take another sip of beer and sigh. “This is going to sound insane. So brace yourself. It’s all the truth,” I tell him. “When I moved to Buffalo, I didn’t have any money to my name. You know that.”

“Yeah, I remember wondering how the hell you were going to survive up there. You did it though,” he says.

“Yeah, barely. I met a friend up there. Michael Lawrence was his name,” I tell him.

“Was?” he lifts an eyebrow and leans forward. “What happened out there, brother?”

“I’m getting to that,” I choke on my words and pause for a brief second. I’m not going to let a single tear out, as heartbreaking as all this shit is. “Look, man. I lived on the streets with Michael for a while. Dad. Jim. He gave me his number.”

“You tracked Dad down? What the fuck, Soren? Where?” he freaks out and stands up.

“Sit down!” I insist. “He wasn’t hard to pin down. I called up all his old buddies. Jericho, Saran, and Mitchell. Finally, I found the old bastard in a squat, three hours west. He wasn’t doing too well, Gabe.”

“You should have told me,” he mutters under his breath. “Is he dead?”

“Doubt it.” I shrug. “Look, if you help me, I’ll help you find him. I know how much you miss the bastard.”

“I don’t miss the guy,” he says. “I want to pound the guy’s face in. I want to tell him everything he did. I want him to feel true pain.”

Gabe is shaking with rage. “He’s already feeling it. When I saw him, he was addicted to pills. He could barely fucking speak. If he’s still alive, he’s living in a world of pain.”

Gabe just nods, but I can see that he’s got his vendetta all planned out. But that’s just the beginning of this whole mess. “I met with this Michael guy. We hustled for a bit. You know, we found odd job after odd job. Eventually, we realized we had enough money to rent a space out. I started my own Auto Parts store. We fixed cars and imported in all the necessary parts. If we couldn’t get what we needed, Michael would just head down to the dump and find it himself.”

“You always were good at fixing shit,” he says, absently.

“Listen. It’s not a fucking happy ending. At the height of our success, people wanted a piece of the pie. We always knew we were situated in a dangerous area. We thought we’d move the shop ten miles north, but we just never could really afford to it. Plus, it would have taken forever. We’d have to close down for a couple of weeks. We just couldn’t do it. So, what happens? This gang called The Good Boys started bringing in their cars in.”

“Shit,” he sighs.

“Tell me about it. But we were respectful. We knew we were in their territory. We gave them a discount. They paid for the parts. That was it. There was never any labor included in the price. We were all friendly enough,” I say, taking it all in and reliving the whole fucking experience. “Eventually though, they wanted more. They wanted to buy in the company. They had it all planned out. The boss himself came to me with the papers. All I had to do was sign.”

“And? Did you sign the damn thing?” he asks me, jaw clenched.

“I refused. I told him to get off my property. I told him we always helped them out when needed, but this was going too far. I don’t know what got into me. I just wanted them out, but they wouldn’t leave,” I say. “So, I got my knife and put it to one of the guy’s throats. I told him I’d kill him if he stayed. They left.”

“But they came back,” Gabe says, already understanding where this is heading.

I nod solemnly. “I was in the back of the shop. I was working on my truck. It had just shit on me on the drive over. I asked Michael to go get me some engine oil, the heavy duty stuff in the corner. That’s when they came in,” I say.

“Fuck,” Gabe sighs and looks down.

“He didn’t have a chance, man. I remember seeing him try to run and he had this look of total betrayal, like the world he had finally figured out had stuck a knife in his back. The bullet hit his head and I remember thinking that his skull looked like fucking play dough,” I tell him. I look away and tears come down my fucking eyes. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry. I’m not into this sappy bullshit, but my friend got killed and I’ve never seen something like that before. It was honestly the worst thing I’ve ever witnessed.

“It’s cool man,” he says. “You can let it all out. No one is judging you.”

I wipe the tears from my eyes and glare at him. “Fuck off,” I say. He backs off and listens some more. “So that’s what happened. I hid in that shop and when they left, I got my truck down and drove right out of there. I don’t know what happened to Michael’s body. I don’t know if they’re coming after me either. All I know is that the shop is theirs now. It’s all out of my control.”

“You have to stay hidden,” he says, after giving him some time to think about the whole situation. “But I think, eventually, you’ll need to fight back.”

“I’m not a fighter,” I tell him. “I just fix cars. I wasn’t supposed to ever get involved in this type of shit.”

“You’re not a fighter?” he laughs. “Bullshit.”

“Man, that was a decade ago. I don’t throw punches anymore,” I tell him.

“You have the soul of a fighter,” he goes on. “Nothing you do can take that away from you. Look at your life, brother. Did you ever back down in times of high trouble?”

“No,” I say. “You have to push forward. Never back down.”

“Exactly!” he exclaims. He chucks his empty bottle of beer at his wall and it explodes. “That’s not going to change now. We’re not backing down from this.”

“But I have more than just myself to think about now,” I say. “Emma. I have Emma. She doesn’t know about any of this. I want to protect her as much as I can.”

“It complicates things, but not by much,” he says. “For now, just lay low. We’ll keep our guards up, because I doubt they’re done looking for you. They’ll be here soon enough.”

“They’ve got guns,” I say.

“And we know these forests like the back of our hands,” he smiles. “Shit, man. These hands of mine are considered assault weapons by the State of Colorado. If they get anywhere near me, I’ll knock their jaws out of place.”

Fat chance going against a real assault weapon. Still, his enthusiasm is getting me pretty fucking riled up. “It’s us Payne brothers, back in the ring again?” I ask.

He gives an announcer-style voice, “And now, Gabe and Soren Payne, up against the hardest gang in Buffalo, New York!” We both laugh even though this whole thing is clearly fucked. “Man, they won’t know what hit them. Don’t worry. Just keep your house locked and devise an escape plan if they come. I’ll install cameras at your place. I’ll keep a lookout as much as I can. That’s the best we can do.”

“And Emma?” I ask him. “What the hell do I do about telling her?”

“That’s your business,” he laughs. “All I can say is that if you lie, you’ll end up with worse than what these Good Boys will do to you.”

“Truer words have not been spoken,” I laugh.

I leave it at that. I give him a hug and I’m on my way back home. When I finally get back, I head up to my porch. I haven’t seen Emma yet and I need to get ready. I take one step onto my porch and notice a piece of paper taped right to my door. I grab it and hold it up to the light. It reads: “They’re coming for you, but I can help. Call me.” There’s a number on the bottom of the sheet.

Yep. I’m fucked.