17. Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
Bear
M y mouth feels like cotton and tastes like acid’s been poured down my throat. Did I drink last night?
“Come on, brother. Wake the fuck up!”
The fuck?
I’m trying to open my eyes but they’re so heavy and sleep sounds like a great fucking idea right now.
“Dude, get up or we will carry your mammoth ass to the fucking shower.”
Is that Psycho? And what the fuck is he doing here? Although, I’m not really sure where here is, exactly, because it sure as shit doesn’t feel like my bed. Could’ve sworn I was in my house. With Athena. She was in my bedroom and I was—
“Dude, I love him but he’ll break my fucking spine if we try to lift him.” The hell is Grinder doing here? Something’s wrong if both of them are threatening to carry me to the shower.
Open up, you fuckers. Why can't I open my eyes?
“There he is. Come on, Bear. Open those pretty browns of yours. Daddy Grinder is waiting.” Note to self… make sure no one ever says those words to me again.
“What did we say about all the daddy shit?” When I speak, it feels like a thousand cuts in my throat and my voice is barely a whisper.
“Well, you must be doing okay if your biggest worry is my daddy issues.”
“Y’all need to shut the fuck up for a second. Bear, listen to me. We’ve been trying to call you all day but your phone goes straight to voicemail. Hoops set up a church meeting and when you didn’t show…” With every word Psycho is saying, I can feel the spike in adrenaline coursing through my body but I can’t seem to get my limbs to actually move. Something ain’t right.
“Goddammit.” At least that’s what I want to say, but what actually comes out of my mouth is a slurred version of a bunch of nonsense.
“I gotcha, brother. Where is Athena? Did you take her back to Maribel’s?” As though her name conjures up the exact spike I need to move, my body jerks and with great difficulty I turn to look at my bed. A lot of shit doesn’t make sense right now. Like, why am I on the floor? I don’t remember taking her anywhere and I sure as fuck don’t remember leaving a mess all over the floor. The bed looks like there was an orgy in it and the stack of books I keep on the bedside table is strewn all over the carpet in a haphazard mess.
“Something ain’t right.” This time I’m able to get those words out and my brothers understand them because they are immediately on high-alert. My jaw clenches as I try to speak again and I can tell by Grinder’s frown that neither one is following the timeline. “Why did Hoops call for a church meeting in the middle of the night? Did something happen?”
“Nah, brother. He called it this morning. We’ve been tryin’ to get ahold of you all day.” The memory of all of us decorating the house for Christmas nudges at my barely alert mind.
“We were here, putting up Christmas decorations.” I narrow my eyes at Grinder, sure that he’s fucking with me. Fucker was here arranging my lights into decorative dicks all over the house.
It hits me hard that something is fucked up when Grinder, instead of making a ridiculous joke, looks me dead in the eyes and whispers.
“That was yesterday.”
I don’t miss the look they exchange like maybe, just maybe, I’ve lost my mind.
“Where’s Athena?”
And that’s when it all starts to come back.
“We don’t know, man. We thought…” Psycho’s words fade into the background as I see Athena looking at me from the bed, telling me that she wants me to sleep next to her. I relive the thundering feel of my heart as she strips away her clothes right in front of me. No shyness, no shame. My mouth goes right back to dry as she scoots across the bed and pulls off the covers so I can slip inside with her.
Except, I never do. The memory ends right there. The last thing I remember is the look of horror flashing across her face seconds after…
As though my subconscious is trying to guide my movements, my hand flies to the back of my neck, an index finger digging around searching for… I don’t fucking know what.
“What’s wrong?” Psycho pulls me away from the side of the bed, which has been the only thing holding me up, and pushes me down so he can see what I’m doing.
“Something happened, this ain’t right. Last thing I remember is the decorating, then we went to bed. She looked afraid, Psycho, and I’ve been asleep for… how long?”
Grinder takes out his phone and shows me the time. “The decorations was last night, brother, and it’s almost seven at night so you’ve been out for a long ass fucking time.”
“Fuck, right there.” I can feel it, like a bug bite or a pinhole or—
“Jesus Christ, were you jabbed with something?” My eyes lock with Psycho’s as my mind tries to make sense of his question. It explains the sleeping for over eighteen hours, the fact I’m on the fucking floor in just my boxers, the mess…
Athena.
“They took her. She looked terrified right before everything went blank. The bed’s a fucking mess and we never got in it and the books are everywhere and I’m on the fucking floor.” I’m rambling, trying to stand and falling to my knees every time I get a foot under me. The guys each take one side of me and, with their help, I’m finally able to stand.
“I’ll be right back.” Grinder runs out of my room and Psycho’s eyes roam my face and neck like he’s trying to find another fucking wound. It’s fine. I’ll be fine.
“I gotta find Athena, man. I gotta find her. If they… no, they definitely took her. There’s no other explanation for this shit. They’re gonna torture her for what she did. They’re gonna punish her because I couldn’t fucking keep her safe.” I realize my voice is rising with every word I say, and to Psycho’s credit, he doesn’t even flinch.
“That fear mixed with rage, brother? I know exactly how it fucking feels. So I’m gonna give you the same fucking advice you gave me all those months ago.” My jaw clenches because I know what he’s about to say. Even though my rational mind agrees, my heart and every drop of blood in my veins is screaming at me to raze this fucking Earth until I find her standing among the ashes of my destruction. “We plan, then we kill every motherfucker who laid a finger on her.”
Just then, Grinder comes back in with a large glass of water and a pill I’m guessing is for the pounding headache that’s threatening to split open my skull. I was so worried about everything that I’m just now noticing the throbbing pain. “Thanks, man.”
With my hand-eye coordination not exactly on point, I carefully place the pill on my tongue and swallow it back with the cold water.
“Grinder, get on the phone to Hoops, bring him up to speed. We need all hands on deck. I’ll get this guy dressed.” Grinder doesn’t crack a joke or do anything but follow Psycho’s orders because, at the end of the day, he’s loyal to a fucking fault. “Oh, and tell Kincaid to bring the truck out here. Ain’t no way Bear’s riding his bike in this state.”
I’m about to argue and tell him to fuck right off but when I take one step, my knee nearly gives out. The truck it is then.
“On it.” Grinder leaves us in my bedroom and as Psycho throws whatever clothes he can find on the bed, I do my best to get dressed. I’ve only got one arm inside the sleeve of a T-shirt when I realize I’ve got to fucking piss like a racehorse.
On unsteady legs, I head for the bathroom as quickly as I possibly can go, which, spoiler alert, ain’t quick enough. Behind me, Psycho is watching, like the stalker he is, just in case I fall on my ass. Not like he can catch me. If he tries, we’ll just both end up on the floor with me, most likely, crushing him.
Shaking that visual out of my mind, I lift the lid and push my boxer briefs down so I can take a leak, one hand on the wall in front so I don’t topple over.
“I can handle it from here, Psycho. I don’t need a watchdog. Besides, you’re giving me performance anxiety.” With a chuckle, my best friend steps out and the relief comes immediately, but it’s short lived because the invading thoughts of what is happening to Athena right this second is enough to make me throw up. I don’t have time to shake the last drop before my mouth aims for the hole and I hurl out everything that was in my stomach. Ain’t much, but it’s enough to part the fog in my brain. For ten minutes I dry heave until fucking finally, my stomach doesn’t feel like it’s twisting up in itself.
“Feelin’ better?” Psycho is back behind me, leaning against the door frame, assessing eyes roaming around my face through the mirror.
“Yeah. Ready to kill some motherfuckers.”
“Right on, brother. We plan, then we kill.”