Dare You to Run (Dare Bros Inc. #1)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

DAGEN - 8 YEARS OLD

Mom’s chest rises and falls and she makes this wheezing sound like she can’t breathe. Her lips are really chapped and grandma said she would rub an ice cube over them. I don’t know what an ice cube will do. Mom and Dad always make me put on chapstick when my lips are chapped.

Daddy is sitting in the chair in the corner of the room while the nurse checks on cords and the machine that is hooked to mommy. The nurse said the tubes send medicine straight into her to help with the pain.

Mommy has cancer and they told me it’s painful, like a bad cut but on the inside. Daddy said she needs special medicine to kill the cancerous cells but the other day, mommy gave me bad news. She told me the medicine they gave her didn’t take the bad cells away and that there is no more that the doctors can do to fix her. She said she’s going to go to Heaven. I cried a lot when she told me.

I really don’t want her to go to Heaven. If she’s with God, then who will be here to take care of me? Daddy said he will always be here to take care of me and will never leave, but a long time ago, Mommy said she’d always be here for me.

Now she’s leaving.

Grandma comes into the room with a cup full of ice. She takes out a piece and rubs it along mom’s lips. Her eyes are open but they look weird. Like something is in them. I can’t see the color very well and it makes me sad.

“Vaughan,” Grandma says to daddy. “Would you mind calling…him, and tell him it’s time?” She looks at me and I wonder who him is.

Maybe mommy’s friend that she used to have sleepovers with. But then she got sick and I didn’t see him anymore. He was nice, I guess, but I didn’t like how he told me it was a secret when he and mommy and I went to lunch. I don’t like keeping secrets from daddy, and I was afraid he’d find out and be upset with me.

Daddy stands up and says, “Sure. I’ll go call him in my room.”

Daddy has his own bedroom, like me and mommy. When I asked him why he didn’t sleep with mommy like my other friend’s parents, he said it was because he snores really loud and didn’t want to wake mom. I never heard him snore when he’d let me sleep in his bed, but he said I could sleep through a freight train going through the house.

He walks out and I look at mommy. She has her eyes closed again and she gasps for air. Her eyes pop open and see turns to look at me.

“Baby girl,” she whispers and wiggles her fingers at me.

Her voice sounds scratchy and it seems like it must really hurt. Like that time I got strep throat.

I sit closer to mommy and she holds my hand. Her fingers are cold and really skinny. Her whole body is skinny. Dad says it’s the cancer. It eats all the good parts of her and they can’t fight off the bad guys.

Grandma pushes mom’s hair off of her foreheads and starts to cry.

“Dagen. You know that I love you,” Mommy says, and I nod my head.

Words are kinda tough to say. They feel like they’re stuck in my throat

“I have to go to Heaven soon.” She pauses and sucks in a big gulp of air. “But I want you to remember that I will never be too far away. You can see me in your dreams and talk to me whenever you want. I will always be listening and watching over you.”

She coughs real hard and Grandma gives her an ice cube to suck on.

“Daddy and Grandma and Grandpa will be here to help you and love you and guide you…you’ll never be alone.” Her eyes close for a minute and when she opens them again, they’re full of tears. “You are the greatest gift of my life. The love of my life, and I am so lucky I got to be your mom. Be a good girl. Be tough and be smart and most of all, be brave. It’s going to be tough for a while my sweet girl, but one day you’ll smile again. I love you, Dagen Rayne. You are my heart.”

Big fat tears leak from mommy’s eyes and tears fall from mine, too. I lean down and kiss mommy’s cold hand. My heart hurts real bad, and it feels like it might fall out.

I cry and cry and cry until daddy picks me up in his arms and carries me to his room. We lay on his bed and he hugs me tight.

“Mommy’s friend is having a little visit with her and then we’ll go back in,” he tells me.

I must fall asleep because when I open my eyes again, it’s dark and I’m laying next to mommy. Dad is in his chair, and Grandma and Grandpa are here, too.

Mom is sleeping and she finally looks like she feels a little better. Grandma and Grandpa are crying, but daddy isn’t. He just has his head down. Maybe it’s a tough guy thing, like Uncle Hayes told me one time.

We sit in her room for a long time. Daddy has some cartoons on for me and the volume is low. I lay my head on mommy’s hand but she doesn’t move it. All of a sudden, mommy does that wheezing thing again and the nurse comes running in. She touches something on the machine and then looks at Grandma. She flicks a button and then takes the tube out of her hand.

Mommy’s chest moves real fast. “Daddy. She can’t breathe,” I cry.

Daddy gets up from his chair and pulls me into his arms.

“Help her!” I tell them all, but no one listens.

“We can’t, baby bird. I’m sorry.” Daddy squeezes me tight and I hug him around his neck.

I watch mommy try hard to get air. She takes a deep breath and blows it out. I wait for her to do it again, but she doesn’t. She just stays very still and very quiet.

The nurse looks at us and nods her head. She looks sad. Grandma starts crying really loud and throws herself on top of mommy. I don’t want to see, so I snuggle into Daddy’s shoulder.

He rubs my back and says, “It’s okay, baby bird. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

Just like mommy said. He kisses me tons and tells me he loves me over and over, and I let him.

Later, some men come and take mommy away. I guess they’re the angels taking her to Heaven. I tell Daddy I don’t want her to go, but we can’t bring her back once the angels come.

My heart starts to hurt again. It feels like it’s broken into little bits. And it hurts because now I don’t have a mommy. I think my heart might stay broken.

HENDRIX - 16 YEARS OLD

The crickets chirp and the cicadas are deafening as they sing in the trees. The full moon is the only light guiding our way through the dark streets of Cattywump Bay, as we push this heap of junk up the street.

It’s a heap of junk now, but I’m going to make it into something amazing.

“Fuck, Henny. You couldn’t have found a bike that had an engine that worked?” Danté grunts as he pushes on the seat, while Malik and I take the handles.

“Well when you’re stealing it, you kinda take what you can get,” I remind him.

I saw this bike in old man Rutherford’s backyard this morning and since it was surrounded by overgrown grass and rust, I didn’t think he’d mind if I took it. I’ve been tinkering around with cars and bikes whenever I can get my hands on them, and I thought I’d be neighborly and fix it up for him. Well…not really for him since I plan on keeping it.

“How’re we gonna hide this from Ms. Shirley?” Malik asks. “We can’t just stick it in the corner of our room and throw a blanket over it like we did with the skateboards you ‘found’.”

“I’ve already taken care of that. Brandi said I can put it in her shed. Her dad never looks in there.”

“Is that what she says when you fuck her? Put it in my shed, Henny. Daddy never looks there,” Danté mocks

I let go of the handles and the bike starts to roll backwards, the brunt of the weight falling on Danté. He struggles to catch his balance and I grab hold of it once more. He growls at me, but I don’t take him seriously.

The three of us –me, Malik and Danté– are brothers. Maybe not by blood, but in all the ways that matter most. We’re brothers at heart, in soul, and in arms. We’ve each been through our own war. We didn’t travel to a foreign country and fight with guns, but we have fought against foster dads who roughed us up when they came home drunk and had no one else to blame for their misfortunes. We fought the pain of being abandoned, not wanted by our own parents, and we braved the storms that come with being dragged from one foster home to another.

We’ve all given up hope at finding a family. No one wants a troublesome sixteen year old boy when they can get a fat baby with pink cheeks to call their own. So we decided two years ago, when all three of us showed up at what is most likely the last group home we’ll live in, to make our own family. Just the three of us. We call ourselves the Dare brothers, because we dare anyone to try and rip us apart. It’ll be the last thing they ever do.

“How much further, man?” Malik puffs. “I’m sweating like a hooker at confession.”

“Just a little bit, then I can coast it downhill. Then you whiny ass fuckers can go home.” Malik –pronounced like the singer– throws me the middle finger and goes back to pushing.

A few more yards and we sit at the top of the hill. I hop on the bike, having already popped the clutch when we started pushing, and take a deep breath. My hands are wet as they grip tight onto the handle, and I wipe them on my grease stained jeans. I lift one foot, propping it on the foot peg, and push off with the other.

Slowly I begin to roll down the hill, and the wind whistles in my ear as I pick up speed. I feel free and light and like all the problems that make my life mine, don’t exist. The weight of the bleak future that awaits me disappears. The hot and muggy air hits me like a heater on full blast, but I don’t care. The electricity that runs through my veins is like a drug, my body already craving another hit.

The voices of Malik and Danté begin shouting behind me and I open my eyes, realizing I had closed them for a brief moment while lost in the feel. When I blink them open, I see what has them shouting. Feet in front of me is a rickety wood fence that is set to greet me in the harshest way.

I try to turn the handles, something I should have already done, and only end up propelling my body into the fence at a rapid speed. I know I’m going to barrel through the worn wood, so all I can do is brace myself for the impact.

I squeeze the brakes to try and stop the unavoidable from happening, but it’s too little too late. The front tire begins to lock up while the back tire spins out of control, fishtailing as I slide across the grass. I hear the first splintering of wood as the tire crashes through it and I’m jerked by the force. My hands try desperately to keep their grip on the handles, but the speed in which my body is being flung is too powerful and I lose my hold.

Though I know my body is moving at a rapid speed, my brain processes slowly. Ever see one of those movies where a crash happens and as shards of glass break apart in slow motion, an operatic voice begins singing? That’s what happens to me until I slam to the ground and the voice comes to a screeching halt by the sound of bones crunching.

In an instant all of the loud screeching and splintering of wood comes to a full stop. I lay on the dry grass with my eyes closed, trying to assess the damage to my body. The pounding of feet grows closer and when it stops, I lift one lid to see Danté and Malik standing above me, hunched over and heaving as they catch their breath.

“Are you…o…kay?” Malik asks, out of breath.

“Yeah. I think,” I tell him.

Danté reaches out to help me up and I hiss, my left shoulder screaming in pain.

“Fuck. Sorry, man. Think it’s broken?” Danté asks.

I push up on my right elbow and move it slowly. “Nah. Probably dislocated.”

The two of them help me to my feet and when I’m fully upright, Malik looks closer at my shoulder. The expression on his face tells me that my initial assessment is definitely correct.

“Yeah, I’m like ninety-five percent sure it’s dislocated. Want me to help?” Malik places a hand on my wrist and lays one gently on my shoulder.

I inhale and blow it out, closing my eyes and nodding my head. “Do it,” I tell him.

“Want a stick?” Danté asks me, and I shake him off. “Alright. Your call.”

“Lay down,” Malik tells me and I carefully lay back down on the grass. “Relax your body and just go limp. You know, like Danté’s dick when Sadie tried to suck it.”

“Fuck off, you little bitch. That girl has mad brace face and I wasn’t trying to get my shit caught up in that.”

I let out a chuckle then relax my body. My left arm rests at my side, and Malik grips my wrist like he’s shaking my hand. It tightens and he says, “One…two…three.” He moves my arm slowly until it’s a ninety degree angle, then jerks it straight up and pushes at the same time.

“Fuuuuck,” I grunt.

I’m pretty sure this is not the way to fix a dislocated shoulder, and I should most definitely be at a hospital getting it done by a doctor. But seeing as I don’t have insurance to cover that, and I’m supposed to be in bed at the moment and not out stealing a bike, this is my only option.

The pain still radiates, but at least now it feels like it’s somewhat back to what it should be.

“Sorry, man. You a’ight?”

“Yeah. Thanks. I’m good.” I struggle to push to my feet again but when I do, I look around at the fence that is laying partially on the bike. “We better get out of here. I don’t know how no one has come out to see about the noise, but I don’t want to be here when they do. C’mon.”

We rush over to the fence and while Malik lifts it up, Danté and I pull the bike out from underneath. This time when it’s upright, we begin running as we push and pull. Brandi’s house is just three away from where I crashed, and she told me how to get to her backyard without being spotted and where to stash the bike.

“Hey, I just thought of something. What if there was some riding gear that had like, airbags in them and could alert you to any possible injuries?” I huff out.

“That’d be pretty fucking rad,” Malik replies.

And it was there, in the middle of the night on a quiet street in Cattywump Bay, Mississippi that a million dollar idea was born. Make that a two point five million dollar idea.