Jinx (Kings of Carnage MC) - Chelsea Camaron Page 0,8

work with, so we can earn our money back, the guns to the armory until Chaos strikes whatever deal comes next to sell them or trade them. The shit for the meth will go to the cooks, the food to the community, and within a few hours, I’ll be sitting in the clubhouse with some club ass on my lap and a beer in my hand.

I live a damn good life. Even in the chaos, it somehow gives me a calm inside.

After all, I’m a motherfucking King.

Two

Talia

“One day your life will flash before your eyes. Make sure it’s worth watching.” Billboard sign – I don’t want to relive my life even in memories, Talia

Rain. I hate rain.

I used to love it. There was nothing better than a rainy day for an afternoon nap in my canopy bed with the softest pillow beneath my head. Those days were forever ago, almost as if it was all a dream. The life I left behind, where I lived in a bubble only the innocence of childhood gives. The older we grow, the more aware we become, and for me, with that awareness came the realities that everything I thought I knew was beyond fucked up.

It feels like it’s been ages since I last slept in a real bed.

I guess four years of life on the streets is equivalent to a lifetime. Hell, I don’t know many people who have lasted this long. Most end up going home, in jail, or dead. I’m lucky to still be breathing. As for jail, while I probably belong behind bars, and three hots and a cot sounds appealing somedays, prison life is not for me either. To an outsider, I have an obvious option: go home. But in reality, the only option I have is surviving. I didn’t come this far to turn back. Forget home because that’s no place for anyone to be.

Closing my eyes, I picture my sister, Amara, with her long golden hair and vibrant blue eyes. A true angel amongst us. She is the reason I press on. The sacrifices she made for my freedom won’t be in vain. My very best friend, there isn’t a single day where I don’t long for her company again. I know I can’t see her, no matter how much I long to.

Often times, I wonder … is she okay? Is she healthy? Is she surviving? Did I do the right thing? Does she miss me? Could I get her away from there? Away from them? How is my niece? My nephew? Does she have more children? I bet they have grown so much.

Nights like this one where I missed a switch and I’m stuck waiting out a storm for another ride to roll in, I think of all the ways things could be if I hadn’t listened to her. Maybe my path would have been different. Sure, the life planned before was a special kind of Hell, but maybe I would have endured it. All the maybes, what ifs, and possibilities roll around in my head. I’ll never know. I made my choice and here I am.

I can’t sleep because if I miss the next one, I may not get another ride out for days. I screwed up with my last choice. I shouldn’t have gone off on my own. Except, the different gangs in my lifestyle are people I haven’t connected with.

I long for companionship.

But I’m not willing to sell my soul for it.

Most of the individuals I’ve encountered are running from something. I find, more often than not, a lot of them allow pride to keep them from turning back. The people I meet along the way, I wonder what their families are like. Do they have a mother and father who miss them? The only person to miss me is Amara. If I return, I will forever be marked as damaged, consider me draped in a scarlet letter. I’m not even sure if I would be allowed to return at this point. I’m most likely excommunicated from them all. My name added to the list of the tainted, the damned, and the unredeemed.

Life on the rails hasn’t been easy, but I’ve learned along the way. The biggest thing is to avoid the freight-only stations. Which is exactly what I didn’t do on this last catch and what landed me here in no man’s land. Catching out, as it’s called, is lifting a ride off a train. It takes a special skill of timing