“I already have a father and a family. If you need money to fuck off, tell me how much.”
“You think those biker trash are family? Boy, you need a reality fucking check. Blood is thicker than any of the bullshit they’ve been feeding you.” Dwayne jumped and pitched the half-full beer bottle at the wall, and the glass exploded. “You don’t give up on family. I thought about you all these years.”
He was right. You didn’t give up on family. Only the family who deserved it. He looked on impassively as the gray-haired man threw a tantrum, pacing from one side of the room to the other. Then he pierced Seb with a stare, pointing a curved index finger that looked like it had been broken at some point.
“I gave you life. That means nothing to you, huh? Ungrateful little bastard.”
Seb laughed and pushed himself forward in the armchair, testing out his equilibrium, and when the room didn’t spin, he stayed in that staring position. “Yeah, that’s me. The kid who was starving and neglected was so fucking ungrateful. You weren’t even a father when you were around, asshole. Don’t be one now.” He used his arms to climb to his feet. Dwayne rushed to grab the gun and pointed it at Seb.
“It’s your move, old man. What you gonna do, shoot me? Because I’ll tell you, it’s your only goddamn option. The fantasy you’ve cooked up for us to have a reunion is not gonna happen. Do you think I want anything to do with you? Fucking funny. Even if you hadn’t been fucking around all these months. If you’d knocked on my door or called, my answer would still be the same.” He curled his lip, holding himself up from sheer will and anger.
The gun in Dwayne’s hand trembled, and playing devil’s advocate, Seb advanced toward him, holding the stare.
“Not another step. You do, and you’ll be sorry.”
“I’m sorry for a lot of things, but walking out on you isn’t one of them. You thought you could fuck with my life and then take the pedestal as a father. You’re out of your damn tree, old man.”
The vicious snark and lunge came, and Seb expected it as Dwayne grabbed him by the jacket and shoved Seb against the wall, his spine rattling, and a gun pointed at the side of his face.
“I waited twenty-fucking-years for this!” Dwayne spat. His eyes were bloodshot with rage and liquor. “You do not get to act like you’re better than me, boy. You’re nothing! I should’ve fucking left your ass in the fire.”
Seb’s irritation snapped savagely. Ordinarily, he would have outweighed Dwayne, but physically, he wasn’t firing on all cylinders. Hislegs were shaking, trying to keep him stationary, and his brain was still clouded. He reacted by elbowing Dwayne in the side of his head, and the gun dropped from his hand and bounced across the floor.
And then his birth parent began grappling with Seb. He aimed to stop Seb by any means necessary, attacking him aggressively, but Seb’s height and strong will to live gave him an advantage. His wife was foremost on his mind as he fended off staggering body blows. Dwayne was spitting a monologue of obscenities the whole time. Seb’s hand flew out to brace himself, connecting with the dresser and knocking over a large table lamp. He yanked hard and latched a hand around it, detaching the plug from the wall. Though weaker, Seb’s fighting spirit prevented Dwayne from overpowering him when they both fell.
He wasn’t even aware he’d done it until he felt the tension radiating down his forehead with the force of wrapping the cord around Dwayne’s neck in several loops. Dwayne’s face pushed into the floor, and Seb’s knee pressed hard into his back to hold him down while he struggled like a beached whale.
“I am Asher fucking Priest’s son, you murdering cunt.” He spat, exerting the only burst of energy he had left as black spots danced in his vision. But fuck if he’d let go.
He couldn’t lose. That was all he kept repeating in his mind.
The moment Dwayne walked himself back into Seb’s life was as good as signing his death warrant.
As he felt the man beneath him go slack all over, Seb’s muscles burned with exertion, the wire cutting into his hands, but he didn’t let go for long minutes. The heavy strain was on his face, arms, and legs from forcibly holding the man beneath him. As he loosened his grip and fell back, the veins in his forehead throbbed, a wave of nausea and dizziness overwhelming him.
Dwayne lay motionless, his face pressed against the grimy motel carpet.
Rolling to the side, he crawled to his knees, heavy breathing, sweat dripping into his unfocused eyes, he knew he was on borrowed time before his brain kicked him out again, and with the last dregs of strength, he grabbed his phone, waiting until it powered up, he pressed the contact for his father.
“Dad…” he croaked, holding onto the dresser. Now, they’d be able to trace him.
His vision dimmed, and he tried to blink it away.
Hold on. One minute more. And his brothers would come.
“Need… clean crew. It’s…” he wavered and dropped to his side on the floor. “It’s done.”
Before he checked out, he heard Preacher saying they were coming and to hold on.
He trusted the Souls with his life, and that’s when Seb let his eyes shut, knowing they were coming to do what they did best: having each other’s backs.
THIRTY-TWO
Sebastian
The side room within the Armado Springs hospital was packed with his brothers.
The Souls had only been five minutes away when he’d made the call. That was family, Seb thought, watching them all talking over each other. Despite the fucked up situation that might play on his mind at another time, it felt right. It was normal. It was his family. Those he’d always fight alongside. Even now, he knew the situation at the motel was being handled as if it had never happened.
