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I shove his hands off me with a grunt. Fucker knows I don’t like to be touched. I tip my chin toward the hall. “He ready for us?”
Angel runs a hand through his hair, sighs, then nods. “All work and no play. Yeah, he’s already in there.”
I say my goodbyes to the girls and the kids and follow Angel out of the living room. “You know I’m just fuckin’ with you. You doin’ okay?” He reaches out again, but I avoid his touch and ignore his question. Jesus Christ, I forgot how fuckin’ touchy everyone is here. I love Angel like a brother, but we’ve had our struggles, and not being one to easily—or ever—apologize, I chose to distance myself.
A part of me knows how fuckin’ childish this is. Angel didn’t deserve me outing his sexuality in front of our brothers. The guy went through hell to get where he is. Repeatedly raped by his stepfather as a teenager, he had a lot of shit to work through before he finally found his forever with Jax and Oakley.
Even knowing his past, I treated Angel like he was nothing more than the dirt on the bottom of my shoe, becausein a way, I hated him. I hated that he survived what some sick motherfucker put him through, and Sara didn’t. And I fucking hated that both of them were young and carefree until they were ruined by someone who used their bodies as though they were theirs for the taking.
I’ve been taking my pain out on those closest to me for so long now, I don’t know how to function any other way. I was a bastard. Truth is, I still am, and as long as everyone remembers that little fact, we’ll all get along just fine.
“Demon,” Angel calls from behind me, “Come on, man. Can we talk for a minute?”
“Not a good time,” I say as I push open the door to Church.
When I enter the room, Priest stands from his seat at the head of the worn table and heads toward me. When he pulls me in for a hug and slaps my back, I return the gesture even though my skin crawls under his touch. “Good to see you brother,” Priest says.
“You too,” I murmur.
All eyes are on me as I take my seat, avoiding each of their gazes as I stretch out my legs and cross my arms over my chest.
It feels wrong being here. Once, not so long ago, this place was more than home. It was family. A brotherhood. A place where the voices in my head were silenced, and the nightmares didn’t visit. A place where we could all let our demons come out to play.
That life is gone.
It’s been replaced with old ladies and kids, days at the park and family dinners, homework, and bedtime routines. And all of it reminds me of the past I lost, and the future I’ll never have. There’s a hatred brewing inside me, for myself, and for the way my life has turned out, and there’s not a damn thing I can do to change it.
“We’re worried about you.” Patch is the first one to speak. His words shatter my calm resolve as I make eye contact with each of them. Patch remains stoic, his eyes fixed on mine. Priest stares at me, his jaw tics once and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Patch may have broken the silence but Priest set this up. I glance at Bullet who opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off by Angel.
“Tell us how we can help you.” In Angel’s eyes, I see his concern. “Whatever it is, whatever you’re going through… you don’t have to do it alone,” he adds when I don’t reply.
Tilting my head, I glare back at Priest. “This a fuckin’ intervention or some shit?”
There’s that tell-tale swallow again. “Maybe it’s time to let her memory rest in peace.”
Sweat beads across my brow and my heart beats hard against my ribcage. “Rest in fucking peace?” My calm voice belies my rage. “My sister was fucking raped and beaten to death!” I stand and shove the chair back, it topples over behind me but I don’t bother righting it. “Where’sMYfucking peace, huh?!”
Priest stands and tension fills the room as each of my brothers shift in their seats. “Calm down,” he says, raising his hands. “I’m—” He looks around the table at each of the men. “We’re not saying you have to forget her. Fuck, D, no one expects that, least of all me. But this vendetta you have against the cartel only has one ending.” When Priest turns to Bullet, I narrow my eyes, knowing.
“You’re fucking tracking me?” My chest heaves as rage consumes me. Shaking my head, I take a step back, ready to walk out. “You wanna know how you can help me? Stay the fuck out of my business, and stay the fuck away from me.” I turn my back on them and head toward the door when my shoulder is grabbedfrom behind. “Zain, stop!” I turn and swing a punch that lands on Priest’s jaw.
Chairs are shoved out of the way as Bullet, Angel, and Patch surround Priest, backing him up as always. What surprises me is Bullet stepping forward, arms outstretched. “What the fuck is your problem? We’ve all lost someone, D, or did you forget that? Patch lost Macey, Christ, I lost my entire fucking family in one night, why’re you fuckin’ special?”
Fury burns inside me. Why am I so fuckin’ special? That’s a question for our Creator. But if there’s one thing I’m certain of; I’m not one of God’s chosen, I’m one of his cursed. I can’t justify why my pain is different than theirs.
“You have no idea how much pain runs through my veins. I’m fuckingconsumedby it. Rotted from the inside out, I’m fuckin’ infested with it,” I say.
Bullet shakes his head. “I know it hurts but Sara’s gone, man. Let it hurt and let it go. You’re so fucking obsessed with this vendetta, with making them pay. You haven’t even stopped to think of who will have to carry the pain of losing you when it’s over.”
Turning his back on me, Bullet storms across the room, grabs the door handle and throws it open with so much force it slams against the wall. Before he leaves, he turns and looks at me, his gaze mingled with pain and hate. “We all have demons, Zain.” With that parting shot, Bullet leaves and I silently say goodbye to my brother. One down, three to go.
I never imagined I’d feel shame over my search for justice, but standing here in front of these men—my brothers—who’ve all been through their own form of hell, the shame seeps to the marrow of my bones.
“He’s right, you know.” Priest rubs his jaw and shakes his head. “But there’s no point arguing with you, is there? You’re gonna walk out that door without a second fuckin’ glance.”
My resolve threatens to crumble when disappointment smothers my best friend’s features. It’d be so easy to sit back down at the table and work out a game plan to take the Demonio de Hielo cartel down.Let them help.My inner voice almost begs.
“Tell them.” Sara stands at the back of the room. “Don’t go into this alone, Zain.”
