“Ma’am, we need you to go inside so we can ask you a few questions,” an officer tells my aunt.
“What’s going to happen?” I ask him, tears bleeding from my eyes.
“I’m sorry. I can’t tell you anything right now.”
Racing inside, I pull a backpack from under the bed and stuff in the few pieces of clothing I have here.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her red-rimmed eyes matching mine.
“I’m leaving and never coming back,” I tell her honestly.
“Where will you go? Back to those criminal, murdering thugs?” If she didn’t have such an ugly personality, she would be an attractive woman. A decade younger than my dad and bitter as all hell, it kept men away. Her selfishness kept friends away. Her lack of empathy and love will keep me—the only family she has left—away.
“No.” My soul aches. How will I survive this life without Alec? Visions of his cut, the club colors, and the absence of the prospect patch overcome me. It takes proving your loyalty to the club to earn your patch. More tears burn my eyes.
“I think it’s best you’re leaving. They’ll come here looking for you if you don’t, and I’ve suffered enough.”
Snatching up my bag, I hook it over my shoulder. “Good riddance to them and you.”
“That’s not fair.” She gasps in horror. Forever the drama queen.
“What’s not fair is both my mother and father being murdered and all my aunt gives a shit about is her fucking lawn. Now, give me the key to his safe deposit box.” Her eyes expand. She didn’t think I’d know he kept one for this very scenario.
“I don’t have it on me. He makes me keep it in its own deposit box. He planned to have it all changed into your name once you turned eighteen, but it was all too late by then.” She jerks her head, placing her hands on her hips.
“Ma’am?” a police officer calls out.
“Meet me in town tomorrow at noon to get the key,” I tell her.
“Fine,” she scoffs.
As I move through the house, I see Heidi outside talking to one of the police officers. “Oh, there!” She begins bouncing on her toes, pointing to me. I gesture to the side of the house away from the mayhem, and he waves for her to come to me.
“Oh God, Drew, they wouldn’t let me through.”
“It’s a crime scene,” I deadpan.
“What happened?” She feigns concern.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I grind out. She’s never once just swung by here, so her showing up is suspicious.
“Alec is up the street. He asked me to come here.”
My heart drops, and my breathing accelerates. “Please don’t tell him you saw me,” I plead.
“What, why? What’s going on?” She keeps picking her feet up, her stupid heels sinking into the mud.
“Heidi, please just tell him I left and I’m not coming back.”
She stares at me, a crease in her perfectly plucked brow. “Okay. Whatever gets me out of this freak show.” She turns to leave, but I reach out for her arm.
“I could use a place to crash tonight.” I shrug.
“My condo?” She looks like her head is about to combust. When I don’t say anything, she huffs. “Fine. Wait here. When Alec leaves, I’ll meet you a couple houses down.”
Heidi’s place is like a Barbie dream house: fluffy pillows, rugs everywhere, glitter, sparkle. “I can sense the judgment.” She narrows her pretty eyes on me. Holding up my hands, I slip off my backpack and dust my fingers over the stationary littering her table.
“Can I use some of this?”
“You going to write a suicide note?”
What the fuck? “No. What the hell?”
She smirks, kicking off her heels. “Just checking. I don’t want to find you in my bathtub later.”
What an insensitive bitch. “Suicide’s not a fucking joke, Heidi.”
Rolling her eyes, she slings her purse down and pulls out her cellphone as it pings, making her smile. “Looks like Alec is already getting lonely.” She smirks, sauntering off to her room, and I have to fight the urge to grab a kitchen knife and follow her. Instead, I sit and write.
“So, you’re really leaving?” Heidi asks, tapping her nails on the steering wheel of her car. Her eyes shift to the note I asked her to pass on to Alec. It was risky asking her, and may never get in his hands, but that’s out of my control now.
“Yep. Thanks for the ride.”
“So I can hit on Alec?” she calls after me.
Lowering myself to look through the window at her, I snort. “Like it mattered whether I was here or not. You’ve been throwing yourself at him since puberty like a desperate slut.” I smile, give her a one-finger salute, and scamper off in the direction of the bank.
“Who’s that?” my aunt asks as I approach.
“Doesn’t matter.” I hold my hand out, and she squints her beady eyes at me.
“I went ahead and got the box. It was under my name anyway.”
“You mean you wanted to see what was in it.” I laugh without humor.
“I only took half the cash—nothing else. I didn’t even open the envelope.”
Unbelievable.
She rummages through her purse, handing me a large envelope, then leans in to whisper, “I moved half the money into your account. It should set you up for some time.”
I shove the envelope in my backpack, tracking our surroundings just in case.
“Where will you go that he won’t find you?”
“He?”
“Yeah, the guy on the bike who was parked outside my house all night. He knocked on the door this morning asking if you came home yet.”
That place was never my home…he was my home.
“He won’t find me.” I swallow past the stone caught in my throat.
“He had bloody knuckles and bruises on his face,” she rushes out.
“I don’t care,” I lie. Why the hell do I care? How do I turn this shit off?
“Drew, I’m sorry about Mitch,” my aunt finally says, looking at her feet.
I turn, heading for the bus station, whispering under my breath, “Yeah, me too.”
Thirteen
Alec “The ANIMAL” Walker
Twenty-six years old
Six years later…
“Damn, looking good.” Hog whistles as three bitches walk into the bar wiggling their asses like overexcited dogs.
“Dude, she’s your sister. This isn’t Alabama motherfucker.” Glen grimaces, swiping up his beer and taking a gulp.
Stealer jabs Glen in the arm, spilling the beer he’s holding all down his face, and growls, “I’m from Alabama, asshole.”
“Yeah, don’t we know it, you ugly imbred fuck. Look what you did. You don’t waste good beer, that’s some imbred shit for ya.”
“It’s inbred, you dumb fucks. Shut the hell up and go get another round in,” I snap, kicking his chair leg, sending Glen skidding backward.