place. Rule…Dad. The realization that I’ll never see the man who’s always been larger than life slams into my chest and I’m drowning in the memory I want to forget most, the day he died—but know I’ll never be able to.
Past
After all this time, we were finally going to get revenge on Rolling Bones for what they’ve done to our family. I’m amped, flying high like an addict who just took a hit of the purest cocaine. It’s been eating all of us alive waiting for the P to give his consent to payback. We put too many of our brothers in the ground and now we watch Rufus wither away in the hospital in a coma. He’d come to recently, but he has a long way to go until he’s one hundred percent. I push the thoughts away and focus on my father who’s standing in the front of room for church.
“This has been a long time coming brothers. Today , we avenge brothers who’ve taken that last ride at the hand of the Rolling Bones. They thought they could come in here, disrespect us and take our shit. I know you wanted to go at them with all guns blazing. But we weren’t ready yet. And I wanted to let those fuckers sweat it out. They’ve been watching their backs, growing paranoid and on edge, waiting for the blowback. Now, they’re tired and sloppy and we’re going to slaughter them.”
“Pres! ” I join the bloodthirsty cries. We deal with things differently in my world. The phrase an eye for an eye is literal. They took down our Vice President and three of our prospects. It’s only right, we return the favor. I glance over at Prophet who got patched in during his stay in the ICU with Rufus. He has a wicked scar underneath his shaggy hair where the bullet grazed him. But what marks him even more is the crazy in his eyes. He’s grown hard over the past few months, physically and mentally. His once gangly frame has been bulked with fifteen pounds at least, and I know he’s going to be on the front lines tonight.
Dallas is standing beside my father , looking as if he always belonged. His green eyes are bright with excitement and I can barely remember a time when he wasn’t operating as Vice President. When Rufus went down, he was the obvious fill in. The title looks good on him, lessening the friction existing between him and Dad. On equal footing, the talking down has all but ended, or maybe it was more that Dallas stopped caring. Once Cora came up pregnant, he changed. The fight for father’s attention and approval shifted. He lived and breathed for Cora and R. It’s a beautiful thing to see, not that I’d say that shit out loud. It gave me hope for me and Irish. We’ve gone back and forth about having a kid and raising him in this life, unsure if it’d be fair to place so much on their shoulders.
“Don your masks. And line up outside.”
We all pull up our skull handkerchiefs, tying them tight. We are the walking dead tonight, doing what our fallen brothers cannot. A heavy sil ence falls as we leave the clubhouse and mount our bikes. Dad reeves his engine in memory and we all do the same. He pulls off and we fall into line behind him.
A weighty emotion hangs in the air that I can’t put my fingers on. There’s nothing pretty about what’s going to happen, but it is necessary. We ride out of the city, to a warehouse we own, load up into the black vans with tinted windows and false plates, then ride toward the Rolling Bones territory. Our people have been out tonight and we know the Bones are partying at the clubhouse. By now, they’re probably good and wasted.
I feel a pang of guilt for the innocent bitches who’re about to get caught in the crossfire, and then I think about Cora. They were out to kill Baby Girl. My anger surges and I crouch down by the window, gripping the shotgun tight. Handguns are more practical, but the point of this run is to do damage. We park a few minutes away and I know they’re sending out the text to our bait bitch. Her job is to lead him outside and
Past
After all this time, we were finally going to get revenge on Rolling Bones for what they’ve done to our family. I’m amped, flying high like an addict who just took a hit of the purest cocaine. It’s been eating all of us alive waiting for the P to give his consent to payback. We put too many of our brothers in the ground and now we watch Rufus wither away in the hospital in a coma. He’d come to recently, but he has a long way to go until he’s one hundred percent. I push the thoughts away and focus on my father who’s standing in the front of room for church.
“This has been a long time coming brothers. Today , we avenge brothers who’ve taken that last ride at the hand of the Rolling Bones. They thought they could come in here, disrespect us and take our shit. I know you wanted to go at them with all guns blazing. But we weren’t ready yet. And I wanted to let those fuckers sweat it out. They’ve been watching their backs, growing paranoid and on edge, waiting for the blowback. Now, they’re tired and sloppy and we’re going to slaughter them.”
“Pres! ” I join the bloodthirsty cries. We deal with things differently in my world. The phrase an eye for an eye is literal. They took down our Vice President and three of our prospects. It’s only right, we return the favor. I glance over at Prophet who got patched in during his stay in the ICU with Rufus. He has a wicked scar underneath his shaggy hair where the bullet grazed him. But what marks him even more is the crazy in his eyes. He’s grown hard over the past few months, physically and mentally. His once gangly frame has been bulked with fifteen pounds at least, and I know he’s going to be on the front lines tonight.
Dallas is standing beside my father , looking as if he always belonged. His green eyes are bright with excitement and I can barely remember a time when he wasn’t operating as Vice President. When Rufus went down, he was the obvious fill in. The title looks good on him, lessening the friction existing between him and Dad. On equal footing, the talking down has all but ended, or maybe it was more that Dallas stopped caring. Once Cora came up pregnant, he changed. The fight for father’s attention and approval shifted. He lived and breathed for Cora and R. It’s a beautiful thing to see, not that I’d say that shit out loud. It gave me hope for me and Irish. We’ve gone back and forth about having a kid and raising him in this life, unsure if it’d be fair to place so much on their shoulders.
“Don your masks. And line up outside.”
We all pull up our skull handkerchiefs, tying them tight. We are the walking dead tonight, doing what our fallen brothers cannot. A heavy sil ence falls as we leave the clubhouse and mount our bikes. Dad reeves his engine in memory and we all do the same. He pulls off and we fall into line behind him.
A weighty emotion hangs in the air that I can’t put my fingers on. There’s nothing pretty about what’s going to happen, but it is necessary. We ride out of the city, to a warehouse we own, load up into the black vans with tinted windows and false plates, then ride toward the Rolling Bones territory. Our people have been out tonight and we know the Bones are partying at the clubhouse. By now, they’re probably good and wasted.
I feel a pang of guilt for the innocent bitches who’re about to get caught in the crossfire, and then I think about Cora. They were out to kill Baby Girl. My anger surges and I crouch down by the window, gripping the shotgun tight. Handguns are more practical, but the point of this run is to do damage. We park a few minutes away and I know they’re sending out the text to our bait bitch. Her job is to lead him outside and
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