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Jer is an open book in the way that even if he doesn’t say everything he wants to, his features will for sure give it all away.
“I’ve spent all of my life having my options stripped. Tell me and let me make that decision for myself.”
He gestures down to the spot beside him. “You’re going to want to sit down for this.”
Then
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Gunshots rang out and my phone slipped out of my hand. I jolted forward, pulling the back door open. My heart pounded so rapidly that sweat dripped down the front of my throat. I paused when I saw Ari standing, a gun pointed down to a body bleeding out.
“Ari.” I ran the rest of the way down the steps, snatching the gun out of his grip. “What the fuck are you doing?”
He buried his hand into his thick mane of hair, falling backward onto the grass. “I had to.”
There was no color to his face, his eyes glassy and lips pulled tight.
“I had to because we have to go, Nik.”
I checked the barrel in the gun, shoving it into the back of my jeans. Kneeling down, I rested my fingers against the throat of the man who was lying facedown on the concrete with blood spilling out from his chest, checking his pulse.
Nothing.
Shaking my head, I looked up at Ari. “What the fuck, Ar. We can’t have bodies dropping in our backyard! This is club shit. You are supposed to call Dad or Old Don, not fucking shoot a man point blank!”
Ari was the baby in our family, and you fucking knew it. He shot first and asked questions later every single time, which obviously always ended with me cleaning up his shit. I didn’t mind doing it if it wasn’t literally in my back-fucking-yard.
“This isn’t club shit, Nik.” Ari’s face paled even further. “We have to leave.”
“What?” I started checking the pockets of John Doe, ignoring Ari and whatever bullshit he was talking about this time.
“He’s right, son,” my mom whispered from behind.
I stopped what I was doing, turning to face her. Mom was a strong woman. Nothing ever shook her. I’d seen her beat another woman with her bare knuckles until cartilage from the woman’s nose stuck into her knuckles. And for the emotional shit, we all knew my old man was a fucking player. He couldn’t keep his dick in his pants any time he was on the road, and she knew it—she just never let it get to her. She never let anything touch her emotions. That’s why I knew when I looked up at her in this moment, I knew. Something was wrong. Wrinkles were indented into the area between her brows, her mouth was downward in a frown, and her cigarette had almost burned to the filter as if she was too stressed and forgot to stub it out.
“What do you mean?” I said absently, standing slowly. “He just shot someone, Ma. He’s clearly having a mental fucking breakdown. I need to be at Meraki’s birthday right now and he decides to fucking eighty-six someone in our backyard?”
Ma finally tossed her cigarette down onto the ground. “He had to, Niko. Look, there’s something I need to talk to you about. Inside.” She brushed past me, heading up the steps and back through the door.
I glared at my brother. “Call Dad and get him to sort this.”
Ari looked up at me with a blank stare. “Dad can’t help us with this. I know who to call.”
Dad was the only one who could help us with this, he and The Knights. I ignored Ari anyway and followed Ma into the house, finding her already sitting at our dining table with a new cigarette lit and two already poured glasses of whiskey.
She pointed to the chair opposite her. “This conversation will need alcohol.”
I pulled out the chair and lowered myself down. “What is it?”
She flicked the ash off her cigarette into the ashtray. “The man who Ari just killed wasn’t part of The Knights, or your father for that matter. This is something else.”
Her fingers dipped inside her jacket and she pulled out an envelope. The paper was bright yellow with a red button wax stamped into the fold.
“Once you open this, Nik, your life is going to change. There’s no going back, and everything that you think you know about you is about to change. You will be leaving tonight with Ari and meeting the other two recruits…” Her voice faded into the back of my mind as I tore the envelope open and took out a single piece of paper.
There was a modest black circle in the top corner and a simple cursive script that read Nikolai Ares Davis.
I looked up at my mom from behind the piece of paper. “What is this?”
