“Holy crap, this is a drug den,” whispers Faith. I feel bad, cos if I’d have known, I wouldn’t have brought her along. She’s been through enough.
“Carol,” I say, gently. “I’m Hadley, one of Grim’s friends.” At the mention of Grim, she glances up. Her eyes are like saucers and it’s pretty clear she’s high. Faith taps me and points to a used needle on the floor by her feet. “What do we do?” I wasn’t expecting to find her like this.
“We could take her back to the club,” suggests Faith.
“But then Grim will know I’ve been here. I was hoping to have a chat, maybe convince her to get some help for his sake. I’m not sure if they’ve even seen each other in a while.”
“You said you thought he was missing her, right? So, take her back and let him decide what to do.”
“I feel like he might get mad if I do that. I’ve got an idea,” I announce, looking around. “Let’s tidy up, make this place more presentable.”
Faith shrugs, also looking around. “I saw a shop just down the road. I’ll pop in and get some cleaning supplies?”
I nod, smiling gratefully. “Great.” This is the sort of thing ol’ ladies do at the club. If there’s a crisis, they get together to clean and prepare food. I can do that part, so I jump into action and begin clearing dirty dishes.
The man is still in the kitchen. He doesn’t stir, so he must be pretty wasted. I pile the dishes by the sink. There’s nothing to wash them with and no hot water, so I fill the kettle. When Faith returns, she hands over a bag full of supplies. “Should we move him?” she asks, nodding to the man.
I shake my head. “He seems out of it. Let’s just clean up, and if she’s still not with it when we’ve finished, we’ll come back tomorrow.” Faith nods in agreement.
GRIM
When I get back to the club, I head for the stairs, but Mav’s voice halts my rush. “In here,” he mutters.
I sigh heavily. “Do we have to do this now, Mav?”
“Pres,” he reminds me. “And yes, we do.”
I sit down and he fixes me with his hard stare. I smirk and remind him, “That doesn’t work on me.”
“Nothing seems to work on you lately, brother. What the fuck is going on?”
“I told you, I’m good.”
“Bullshit. Man, we’re like brothers, real brothers. The fact you ain’t confiding in me is fucking painful. We’re always in it together.”
I roll my eyes. We’ve been saying that same shit for years, but lately, it doesn’t feel like it. “You got Rylee and the kid now—” I begin, but I stop talking when Mav scoffs.
“Tell me this isn’t because you’re jealous I’ve settled down?”
“Of course, it’s not!” I snap. “I like Rylee, she’s good for you. Sometimes I even like her kid.”
He smiles, knowing I hate kids. “That’s huge,” he admits, and I find myself grinning too. We’re never mad for long. “Since we got back here, things have been crazy, and now it’s settling down, you’ve been distant.”
I shrug. “The road’s calling me, brother,” I confess.
Mav sits straighter. “I can’t do this without you, Grim. We’re changing this place together. You know your dad would have wanted it run this way, he’d be so proud of us now.” My pops hated the way Eagle was running things in the last few years of his life. He didn’t keep it a secret either, and often came to blows with the President back then.
“Don’t do that,” I mutter. “It’s a shitty move.”
“If you need a few days on the road, I’ll get you a good run out.”
“It’s not that simple, and you know it isn’t. It’s not me, staying still . . . settling down. I wanna be on the road, just me and the lady.”
“That bike isn’t your lady, Grim. You need to find someone real, and then you’ll see why I stay. Rylee makes it worthwhile. I get that urge too, brother. I miss our freedom, but we can’t do that forever.”
“Says who? Where’s the rule book on life, Mav? I don’t want an ol’ lady or kids. I wanna pack a bag at the last minute and drive into the sunset whenever I feel like it.”
“Is it the work with Arthur?” he asks.
I shake my head. “You keep saying ‘work with’ but lately, it’s ‘work for’. We’re his bitches, and if we’re not careful, we’ll end up doing dark shit, just like your dad did.”
“Eagle wasn’t smart. I am. I’ve worked too hard for this club to go back down that path.”
“Who’re you trying to convince?”
“I don’t have to convince anyone, I’m the fucking President. But let’s not forget, I didn’t make these decisions alone, Grim. I took it all to the table and the brothers voted. I’m nothing like Eagle, I consult you all on business.”
I stand and head over to the cabinet where Mav keeps the rum. Unscrewing the cap on a new bottle, I pour two glasses. “I’ve been going to see her,” I mutter.
“Who?”
“Carol.”
“Your mum Carol?” He gasps, and I nod. “She’s still alive?”
“Yes. I haven’t been to see her fucking corpse . . . although I may as well have done.”
I pass him a drink and take a seat again. “She’s not good then?”
“Nah, she’s a mess. She’s still living in that cesspit, surrounded by dirty needles and rubbish.”
“Sorry, brother.”
“It is what it is.” I shrug. “I guess I thought she’d have cleaned up her act after all this time. I’ve been every week for the last few months and it’s the same story every time. She wants cash to get her next fix, she ain’t interested in me.”
“You wanna get her some help? We can sort that out.”
I shake my head again. “What’s the point? She isn’t ready to get help, and it won’t work until she is.”
“You should have come to me, man. Don’t carry shit like that on your own.”
CHAPTER THREE
HADLEY
We spent hours cleaning Carol’s place. When we were done, she still wasn’t in a fit state to discuss Grim, so we left. Today, we’re heading back to try again. This time, we’re armed with clean clothes, food, and toiletries.
The front door is still ajar, so we slip inside, happy to see the place still clean and tidy. The guy from the kitchen is gone, which is a relief cos who knows what he’s capable of. I begin putting food into the cupboards, and Faith uncovers the hot pie we took from the fresh batch Brea had just baked. “Who the hell are you?” I spin around and come face-to-face with Carol. She’s standing on shaky legs and gripping onto the door frame for support.
“Hey, I’m Hadley, and this is Faith—”
“I told you lot before, I don’t have the kid here, he lives with his dad!”
“Erm . . .” I glance at Faith, who looks just as confused as me. “We’re not from child services.”