Page 3 of Relapse

“Come here,” I ordered, taking her into my arms. She complied, clutching to me as I helped her to her feet and led her away from the bedlam.

“I have to get out of here,” she whispered, as I inspected her for injury.

Suddenly, EMTs flew in from the outside, bulldozing through the congregating guests to get to the center of the floor where David lay. The stretcher followed, and a few of the smaller fights slowly began to stop. Everyone watched in amazement as the Chief of Police was loaded onto the stretcher and dashed out of the building. My mother trudged behind, not even looking in my direction as she followed David’s body out the doors. Her fancy heels left a trail of blood across the white tile floor as she passed.

“Let’s go,” I assured Delane, keeping my arms wrapped tightly around her and aiming to follow my mother out of the building. Two huge groups still gathered in the center of the room, shoving, arguing, and generally escalating with their attacks on one another.

We were nearly to the doors when the sound of a sharp gunshot filled the area. The room and the remaining guests visibly flinched and cried out, and I pushed Delane back to the ground, instinctively covering her body with my own. If someone was about to get shot, it was not going to be her. I was determined to keep her safe.

“What’s going on?” she cried, her body trembling beneath mine.

I chanced a glance behind us. The whole room was on the ground, cowering and covering their heads or with their arms raised in the air in surrender.

Only one man was left standing.

Damian.

His hand was pointed into the air, his pistol clutched tightly between his fingers.

“Everything is going to be fine,” I whispered into Delane’s ear, pressing my head into hers. “It’s okay. It’s my brother.”

Delane looked up at me, her eyes shimmering with tears, glossed over like broken glass catching light. Something twisted deep in my chest, and it felt like a goodbye. A cutting of ties and connection. Once this day ended, I knew I’d probably never see her again. After what we’d just endured, who would ever want to come back? I couldn’t blame her. If I were her, I wouldn’t even want to look at me.

I wished I could remove all of this trauma she’d endured.

“I’m so sorry…” I murmured.

“Look at yourselves!” Damian yelled into the crowd. “I should put cuffs on each and every one of you! You have disrespected yourselves and my family.”

I didn’t often feel proud of my brother, but at this moment I wanted to stand alongside him.

“All of you,” he growled. “Get the fuck out.”

I smirked as Damian grabbed the man who had punched him minutes before.

“And you,” Damian reached behind his shirt, pulling out a pair of metal cuffs and restraining the man. Damian smiled. “You, my friend, are coming with me.”

Chapter two

White Skull

SILAS

Jace didn’t give a fuck about anyone. Sometimes I wondered if that included me.

Deep down, I knew I had to be an exception to this rule, at least partially. What Jace saw in me was a token; I was his new beginnings and the extension of his continued legacy.

When I shot the man in the storage container, that only further sealed the deal. Jace had been impressed. I think even some of my cousins had been too. They stayed quiet, eerily so, as I dismantled the weapon and carefully placed it back into my uncle’s carrying case. We left in pairs, Jace and I being the final two to depart from storage container #557. Jace had handed me a glove and I slid it on, grasping the metal handle to the container, twisting, and closing it with a massive clank of steel.

“Didn’t even blink, eh? That’s my son. A true man,” he praised on our way back through the maze of boxes to the main access road where the car waited for us. I caught myself wondering if I had ever heard him call me “son” out loud before.

I didn’t know how it made me feel.

On our way leaving the yard, Jace had mentioned to me that we were heading to a formal event. I grabbed an old shirt from the trunk of his car to tidy up some of the blood splatters, and quickly put on the suit he had brought me. I was getting pretty good at quick changes, I thought with a bit of satisfaction, recalling the day I scaled out of Noah’s window.

“You’ll need this,” Jace said as I adjusted my tie, handing me a black box. “Open it in the car.”

What he didn’t take the time to tell me, was that we were heading to Noah’s house. We were about ten minutes away before I realized the direction of the car.