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“Riot, this car is pretty bad ass,” I laugh, buckling myself into the passenger seat.
“Yeah, I know,” he grins as he peels out of Travis’s driveway, speeding toward the highway.
“So where are we heading?”
“You’re in for a bit of a road trip sweetness,” Riot laughs. “We have to hit up a mall a few hours away just to be on the safe side.”
“Uhh, I hope you have a sweet ass playlist to go with this sweet ass car then,” I chuckle.
Grinning, he turns on an EDM mix and I absolutely lose my mind cackling.
“Did you seriously doubt me?”
Snorting, I laugh until I’m in tears as he starts fist pumping along to the music, “Not even for a minute.”
Settling back against the seat, I lower the volume of the radio a bit and wonder more about this incredible new friend I’ve gained. He knows everything about me, and all I know about him is that he works for Travis doing whatever illegal shit he’s ordered to do.
“Are you going to tell me about yourself at all?” I ask.
Raising an eyebrow, I see him peek over at me from his peripheral.
“What about me?”
“I don’t know, anything really. You know so much about me, and I don’t know very much about you.”
“You know all you need to know.”
“Is that so?” I answer, my voice laced with annoyance.
“My life isn’t anything exciting,” he shrugs.
“Can’t I be the judge of that?”
Sighing, he switches his grip on the steering wheel, “Okay, where do you want me to start sweetheart?”
“How’d you end up here?”
“Here as in…” he trails.
“Part of the Brotherhood.”
“Mmm. That,” he clicks his tongue, running one hand through his hair.
“Yeah, that.”
“Well,” he starts, “I grew up down by the docks. You know, the run down row homes?”
I nod.
“My mom was a dancer at Afterlife, my dad was in and out of jail for beating on her. One of the times he was released on parole, we didn’t know he was coming home. He showed up and I was in my bedroom…with my boyfriend.”
I gulp, wondering if I should have pressed him to open up to me.
“He beat me within an inch of my life. The last thing I remember him screaming before I blacked out was that no son of his was going to be a faggot.”
“Riot,” I whisper, reaching out to grab his hand.
“Nah, it’s ok. It’s… my mom came home I guess. Shot him with his own gun. But afterward she went to jail and I had nowhere left. My boyfriend was too traumatized from the ordeal to look at me again, so I went to go stay with my friend Colt. He was already working for the Brotherhood so he looped me in.”
