over the streets. Make it dead. Like Natalie. Like Black. That’s where I’m at, man. Fuck your father. Fuck his Club. And you here to do his bidding, not reaching out to me, not lookin’ after your mom when she needed you, not for years, Rush, fuck you.”
She disconnected and he was left breathing heavily.
He dropped the phone from his ear and concentrated just on breathing.
“Let me guess, that bitch didn’t invite us over for tea before we got her ass safe,” Hop bit out.
Rush couldn’t look at him.
“Rush,” Hop called.
Rush stood completely still, just breathing.
He felt Hop get closer.
“Brother,” Hop said quietly.
“She said she hopes Chaos gets our throats slit. Bleed out all over the streets,” he told his boots.
The wall of rage that came from Hop and slammed into Rush might have knocked him over if he wasn’t focusing everything on standing there rather than finding a baseball bat and destroying something.
Anything.
If he had it in him to notice, he’d have sensed Hop retreating.
But he didn’t notice until he heard Hop talking.
“Yeah, Tack. We’re in Boulder. Naomi isn’t at work. Rush called her. All I got from him after their chat is that she told him she hopes we all get our throats cut, bleed out on the streets. I’m not givin’ that gash another second of my time. Wouldn’t have done it in the first fuckin’ place, but I’m here for Rush and Tabby. That shit comes outta her mouth, I’m out, my brother. And Chaos should be out. You want her protected, call a marker with Pope. She’s ceased to exist for Chaos.”
Slowly, when he could manage it without flying apart, Rush turned his head to Hop.
He had his neck bent, looking at his own boots, phone held to his ear.
Hop glanced at Rush then looked again to his boots.
“He’s pissed as shit, Tack, but he’s holding it.” Hop was silent a second before he started nodding. “Yeah, I’ll get him home.” Another moment of silence then, “Right. Later.”
He lifted his head, dropped his phone and looked again to Rush.
“We’re heading back,” Hop declared. “You gotta pursue this, come back with another brother. I’m sorry, Rush. But I’m done.”
“Hang a minute,” Rush grunted.
Then he looked at his phone. Hit the screen and put it to his ear.
It rang.
He got voicemail.
Then he spoke.
“Any love I had for you, and newsflash,” he bit, “there was still love, Mom. You killed it. You. Bonus info, reaching out goes both ways. After you sold me and Tab to Dad then spread that fucked-up brand of love you have for Tab instead of telling us we lost a grandparent not long after she lost her fuckin’ fiancé, you didn’t reach out either. Now, if you survive this, and this shit is serious and the threat is very real so that not happening is a possibility, you’re still dead to me. Forever. No turning back. I’ll have kids, and you won’t know them, like you don’t know Playboy. I’ll make a woman mine . . . a woman, Mom, who is not a fucking thing like you, and you’ll never meet her. I have no idea who shoved that stick so far up your ass it tore through your heart, makin’ you unable to give love, and not worthy of anyone lovin’ you. My advice, not that you give a shit, pull that stick out. Not for me. I’m gone for you. But in the years you have left, you’ll need somebody. Not someone to use. Not someone to abuse. Someone who cares enough to make sure you eat your Jell-O at the old folks’ home. Let go of the hate, Mom, before it buries you. And get outta Colorado. If you got it in you to do one thing for me and Tabby, save us from you bein’ delivered to Chaos under a sheet.”
He disconnected.
Shoved the phone in his back pocket.
And looked to Hop.
“Let’s roll.”
Rebel
“So tell me about his member. He has a beautiful member, am I right? All the rest of him carries through to his crotch?” Essence asked.
It was after I sent Meryl what she needed.
After naptime.
After a late lunch delivered by Jag (one of the brothers, a recruit who’d helped hijack me, and yes, you guessed it, he was gorgeous—young, but hot).
We were hanging out in Essence’s kitchen, drinking fresh-brewed tea we’d poured over ice and shooting the shit, both of us standing, leaning full body on our forearms into the massive butcher block she used as an