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CILLIAN
Kill had been counting down the days to his release and what was promised to be only one week away, ended up being two. When the day finally arrived for him to be released, Savage was waiting for him just outside the prison gates as promised. He was the one guy Kill could count on and he had to admit that it felt damn good to have someone on his side for a change.
During his exit interview with his parole officer, he was quickly reminded about the fact that most inmates end up right back in prison after they were let out. Kill didn’t want to believe he could so easily end up as a statistic, but it was his biggest fear.
“Hey, man,” Savage said, pulling him in for a quick hug. “You look good.”
“Yeah, thanks for sending in some clothes for me. The ones they had of mine, from ten years ago, weren’t exactly going to fit.” Savage looked him up and down as if sizing him up. He was just a kid when he went to prison for grand theft auto—just twenty-three. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
“No,” Savage said. “I guess they wouldn’t. You have filled out in the last ten years.”
Kill laughed, “Yep. Not much else to do in prison besides lift and workout.”
“Well, I have a few bags of clothes in the trunk. Nothing fancy, just some stuff the guys got together and my girl loves to shop. Dallas had a field day picking you up some clothes. She even guessed your size and got you a suit, you know—for job interviews and stuff.”
“I appreciate it, Savage. I’ll find a way to pay you back,” Kill promised.
Savage pointed his finger at Kill. “No, you won’t. We’re family and family takes care of each other,” he said. “Now, get in. We need to get this apartment hunting underway. Until we can find you something, you’ll be staying with me and my family. I’ve already given your parole officer my address and cell number.” Savage got into the cab of his black pick-up and Kill slid into the passenger seat. He handed Kill a cell phone and he turned it over in his hand. He had never really had his cell phone and wasn’t sure how to work the new ones. He only ever used the ones that flipped open but this one didn’t have that feature.
“Push the side button and it turns on. It’s charged and I’ve added you to my family plan,” Savage said.
“This is too much, Savage,” Kill whispered. It was too. He had forgotten what it meant to have family around and Savage treating him like a kid brother made him homesick for something that didn’t exist anymore.
Kill’s parents announced they were moving to the States when he was fourteen. Leaving Ireland felt like he was cutting off one of his appendages. He reluctantly agreed to follow them across the pond but Ireland was a part of him and he still longed to go back. But now, he had nothing and no one to go back to. His parents returned home, to Ireland just after he turned twenty-one, and he foolishly decided to stay in America. He was trying to get into Savage’s MC—Savage Hell and he thought he was too good to go back to his childhood roots. He told his father that he wanted to stay in America and make something of himself, even implying his dad couldn’t hack it in the States. God, he was an asshole. His father persuaded Savage to keep an eye on him and his parents headed back to Ireland.
About three months later, he got the call from his Mum that his father had died. He had a heart attack in his sleep and she found him dead the next morning. He didn’t even go home for the funeral, even though his mother begged him to. Savage offered to lend him the money, but a mix of pride and being a stubborn ass took over and he refused. It was one of his major regrets and now that he was looking back, probably the one thing that shoved him down the wrong path. His life seemed to spiral out of control after his dad passed and one wrong decision led to the next and before he knew it, Kill was sitting behind the wheel of a stolen car, trying to prove he was worth something.
He begged Savage to let him into Savage Hell. Kill showed up to the bar that housed the club almost daily and every time Savage denied him; it drove him further over the line. When the Dragons showed interest in him, he jumped at the chance to be a part of a motorcycle club. He thought he’d show Savage just what he was made of by joining the Dragons and then he’d let him into Savage Hell. He was an idiot—he knew that now. But, at the time, it seemed like such a great plan. It wasn’t and that point hit home when he realized his new club set him up. They knew he was mixed up with Savage and they used him to send Savage Hell a message. Dante was the president of the Dragons and he told Kill that if he wanted to be patched in, he needed to steal a car and bring it to the meeting. He wanted to be a part of something so badly he didn’t think through the ramifications and getting caught seemed like a risk worth taking. He didn’t even get a half a mile down the road with the car he stole before the cops pulled him over. During his hearing, it came out that he was set-up by the Dragons who were cooperating fully with the authorities. The judge decided to make an example out of him and gave Kill a twelve-year sentence, of which he served ten and with good behavior, got out.
About a year ago, he got a letter from his aunt in Ireland, telling him that his Mum had passed from cancer. He didn’t even know she had the disease and it just about broke his heart that he didn’t get to say goodbye to her. After his sentencing, she wrote him a letter, telling him that she would always love him, but that would be the last he’d ever hear from her and she was a woman who was true to her word.
“You good, Cillian?” Savage asked.
“Yeah,” he lied. “Just thinking about everything. This is all a lot to take in,” he admitted.
“Give it time, brother. You will have to do a lot of adjusting, but I believe in you, man. You need help, you use that to call me,” Savage ordered, nodding to the cell phone Kill was clutching like it was his lifeline.
“Will do,” Kill agreed. “And, thanks, Savage.”
“Don’t thank me yet, Cillian. You’re bunking with the new baby and he’ll keep you up all damn night long.” Savage laughed.
“Remember, I’ve been in prison for the last ten years. Rooming with a newborn will be a piece of cake,” Kill said.
“Yeah, we’ll see if you’re humming the same tune tomorrow morning when he wakes you up at four A.M., man,” Savage said. “Welcome to the family, Cillian.” Savage had no idea what those words meant to him and Cillian swallowed past the lump of emotion in his throat. It felt damn good to have a family again—now he just needed to find his place in the world—his home.
