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“Okay, well, that was a super short visit. Um, I heard what happened with your mom earlier. Are you okay?” Amira’s sitting next to Calli on the porch swing, looking more concerned than Calli is. They’re both in heavy jackets and look to have to-go cups of coffee in their hands.
“I’m fine. It’s just the same shit on a different day. We all know what she’s like. She wanted to get me to call Dad and let her back in the club, but she fucked that up. She should have just respected Jo, and she’d still have a good place to sleep, warm food in her belly, and a place to shower. Now she’s just fuckin’ . . . Gods. She’s all fucked up. It looks like she’s using heroin.” I shake my head, trying to push the way she looked today to the back of my mind. In a way, I want to blame myself for not putting her in rehab or finding a better place for her to stay, but it’s not my responsibility. She did this to herself, and she’s the only person I can blame in this situation. The bottom line is she knew she shouldn’t have done the shit she did and continued crossing the line every time it was drawn in the sand right in front of her.
“Still, I’m sorry. She might be . . .” Calli starts off, but Amira quickly cuts in.
“Awful. Deranged. Subhuman. Disrespectful. Ignorant.” Amira’s popping out words faster than ever.
“Uh, yeah. She might be all of that, but she’s still your mom, so I can imagine it’s really hard on you,” Calli finishes what she was saying.
“It was when I was younger, for sure, but not anymore. The only time she ever reaches out is when she needs me. I’m tired of that cycle, so today, I put a stop to it.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Cut the serpent’s head off,” Amira comments.
“Amira!” Calli shakes her head.
“What? Risk is using Dion like she always has. I’m glad he’s finally put an end to it.”
“I hate to cut you both off, but I need to get going, ladies.” I break up the chat between the two of them, and they get off the porch swing. They both walk over to me, and I give them a hug, then I walk over to my truck. I get inside, put the key in, and start her up. Only a short few minutes later, I’m on the road, headed back to Atlanta.
TWELVE
Rebellion
I pause in the bathroom out in the main room, stopping to clean up before I head home. Flirt’s nowhere to be seen, and I hope she’s headed back home.
I barely make it to the toilet before I throw up. Finally, once my stomach is empty, I grab a paper towel and wipe my mouth.
“Fuck,” I mutter when I see my face in the mirror. A bruise is already forming on my cheek.
My scalp aches where Control pulled my hair. When I reach up with my good hand and touch it, my fingers come away bloody. Turning around, I use my phone to reflect the back of my head in the mirror, then use a new paper towel to staunch the blood welling up where my father ripped out my hair.
I’m about to leave when I hear two people walk into the main meeting room. When I hear Control’s voice, I quickly turn off the light. I don’t want him to know I’m still here.
My blood runs cold as I hide in the bathroom, listening intently to the conversation unfolding before me. The air is thick with tension and fear, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I strain to hear every word, opening the door a tiny crack and peering out.
The room outside is shrouded in darkness, but the voices within are crystal clear. Listening in is a risky move, but I need to know the truth.
Control takes a seat in a chair across from the Birmingham drug supplier. The air is thick with tension, their voices hushed, carrying a dangerous weight. I strain my ears, capturing every word as if my life depends on it. And perhaps it does.
“We’ve got a golden opportunity here,” Control murmurs, his voice laced with greed. “The cartel wants in, and you’re the key. We can both profit from this.”
I don’t recognize the man he’s talking to, but since discussing a potential plan to expand their influence to Birmingham, I assume it’s a supplier from the other city.
My eyes widen in disbelief. Control has been playing both sides all along, dancing with danger as he brokers deals behind everyone’s back. But now, his true agenda is unfolding before me.
The supplier leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “What’s in it for me?”
Control’s chuckle sends shivers down my spine. “Protection, power, and wealth beyond your wildest dreams. You’ll be the cartel’s right-hand man in this city. No one will dare defy you.”
A sickening realization washes over me. If the cartel gains a foothold in Birmingham, it will bring chaos and destruction.
I’m about to retreat back into the bathroom when the conversation takes a sinister turn. Control’s voice drops to a menacing whisper. “We need to deal with the Sons of Gods. They’ve caused enough trouble for both of us.”
My hands clench into fists, nails digging into my palms. The words “deal with” resonate like a death knell in my mind.
I’ve heard of the Sons of Gods. They’re violent. Monstrous.
They’ll wipe out the Burning Heretics—my family.
