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CHAPTERSIX
Three Years Ago
Outlaw
News of everything that had happened to my family spread around town like a plague. People would stare, murmur, and point at me wherever I went. The harder I tried to hold myself together, the tougher it got.
I didn’t want to be miserable but every time I left my apartment that’s the feeling that overcame me. Every passing minute, the reality of being alone with no job or friends hit me harder. My only companion was the booze Jim served me when I would hit the bar.
Money wasn’t a problem, the government paid me a nice severance pay and I was the sole collector of the life insurance policies on my family. Part of me wanted to leave Tennessee and start over, where no one knew me or my story. I wanted to go somewhere where I wasn’t reminded of everything that happened to me. But Tennessee was home and another part of me wanted to stay and figure out a way out of all this misery and depression, to show everyone I was strong.
Jim, the bartender was the closest person I had to a friend.
“The usual,” I tell him as I take my stool at the end of the bar. I just like the quiet in the corner, I’m not bothered.
The door opens and three bearded men with long hair walk into the bar. They look imposing, to say the least. I guess most of the clientele in here are not on the straight and narrow.
Jim sets my glass in front of me and goes back to the bar as the men grab stools.
“Jim, my man, how’s it going?” One of the men asks.
“Great. How are you?”
“Tired as shit. Pour me two shots of tequila. The rest can speak for themselves.”
I drink my glass as the men order and make small talk with Jim. I keep to myself, not paying any attention to the men at the bar. Better to keep out of people’s business. I wish people would stay out of mine.
The first man, the one that greeted Jim taps me on the elbow, “What’s your story? You look like you’ve had a rough year.”
“Just living one day at a time,” I respond with a shrug.
“Well said, my man.”
His facial expression suddenly changes and I realize he recognizes me. I give him a nod and he looks at me with sympathy. Everyone reacts the same way when they figure out who I am.
“You are that guy? I am so sorry for your loss.”
I chuckle sadly, “Yep, I’m that guy.”
“Pffft, where are my manners? I am Hawk. This is Knuckles and at the end is Crow.”
“Callum. Nice to meet you.”
“We don’t see you around much and believe me, we know everyone in these streets.”
“Well, maybe you should look harder.”
My tone is harsh and sad. I’m not trying to start anything, but there’s nothing that can change my tone. They are strangers after all. They leave me to continue drowning my sorrows and when they leave they will forget we ever met, which is fine with me.
After a while, he catches my attention again.
“I have a better idea than this. How about you join us for a ride? We could all use one.”
The offer is out of pity, and I thought of saying no at first but then again, I rarely got invites. No one wanted my sad ass around them. If I stayed, I would likely continue drinking until loud music and screaming forced me home. A change in my routine is probably good.
“Sure, why not?”
“Great. Come on. You are riding with me.” He sounds relieved, almost as if he was certain I would disappoint him.
