Page 35 of Drilled

"My problem," Bear whispered, his voice low and terrifyingly devoid of anger. “Is that I know enough about Dax to recognize that you’re not being careful enough with him. I know exactly what happened in that pantry yesterday, Lane.”

The world drained of sound except the pounding of blood in my ears. I suspected that he might know but I hadn’t anticipated this reaction from him. I would’ve preferred it if he’d smashed another wall with that sledgehammer or yelled at me again, or did literally anything else other than offer a cryptic warning.

My first instinct was to deny it but he didn’t even give me the chance to do that. He just turned on his heel, slamming the basement door behind him.

12

Dax

I was late as fuck.

Normally that wouldn’t have been too big of a problem; I’d maybe get a joke from Sy and a brief dressing-down by Bear but these past few days had changed the dynamic of the crew and I didn’t know what to expect anymore. Considering how he’d lost his shit over nothing, I knew that Bear was probably going to tear me a new one when I finally got to Lane’s place.

I clenched my jaw, turning into the meeting spot. The alleyway was grimy, a narrow asphalt strip cracked by winter frost and lined with brick walls on either side. It was overstuffed with green carts and fire escapes that cut the sky above into rectangles. The perfect backdrop to have your day ruined.

My eyes instinctively went to the blind spots behind the dumpsters. I was about fifteen feet from the mouth of the alley, far enough inside to have a quick conversation out of direct sight of foot traffic, but still close enough to scan the entire corridor and have a clear, three-second sprint to the main street if things went sidewise.

I didn’t want to believe that I’d be met with any type of ambush today, but with how shitty my luck had been lately, that was still a factor I had to account for.

I didn’t have to wait for very long. Two figures entered from the other end of the corridor, one sporadically twisting their head back and forth, obviously trying to scan for potential trouble in the dumbest way possible.

“You know, when people say to keep your head on a swivel, it’s not meant to be that literal, Sean,” I said.

Having met me in the middle, my brother scowled. “It’s just being careful.”

“It’s making yourself look like an easy target,” I said, reaching into the pocket of my jacket and pulling out a heavy envelope. “Here.”

I shoved it into his chest. He ripped the flap open right there, thumbs snapping through the twenties with a desperate, ugly gleam in his eye. My gaze briefly flicked to our mother standing next to him. I swear, she looked older every time I saw her again.

She pulled her oversized, faded coat more tightly around her body, noticeably avoiding looking at me. Instead, she stared at Sean’s hands as he counted the money, nicotine-stained fingers twitching.

“Two and a half grand,” Sean announced, closing the envelope and dropping it into his own jacket pocket. “That’s all?”

I scoffed. “What do you mean, ‘is that all’?”

“It’s not enough, Dax,” My mother shook her head, rubbing a hand over her smudged eyeliner. “It’s…we can’t get through with that.”

I rolled my shoulders back. That money represented weeks’ worth of honest, hard construction work only for them to tell me that it wasn’t cutting it. I knew they were involved in some messed up shit again, but I was fast approaching the point of not caring. Or at least forcing myself not to.

“Then give it back,” I said, my voice dead flat. “You don’t want it, I’ve got bills of my own. But that’s every dollar coming out of my pockets.”

Sean narrowed his eyes at me, practically snarling. “That’s what you have to say for your own blood?”

“What do you want me to do, Sean? I can’t pull cash out of thin air and you know I’m done fighting. That part of my life is over,” I said resolutely.

My mother reached out and grabbed my arm, her skinny fingers digging into me. “You think you’re better than us now, because you have a new fancy job?”

“Construction is hardly fancy, Mom,” I said evenly. She ignored that.

“You may have abandoned us to your old life, but we’re still stuck here. You walked away from this family, Dax, and Sean, he had to make some hard calls. Maybe they weren’t the right decisions but we were desperate enough and now look. You owe us this. If he goes under, it’ll be your hands holding him down,” she hissed.

I shook off her grip and took a step back.

Guilt hit me like a gut punch, and one so much stronger than any resentment I might have had for my family. They looked pathetic. Worn down, ragged, exhausted. I knew what my mother was trying to imply here, and the road she was essentially shoving me down. I hated that I felt even slightly obligated to walk it on my own.

“Don’t contact me again. If I need to talk to you, I’ll reach out,” I said, turning around and stalking back out of the alley.

*