Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Oscar
“This is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” Henri whispers.
I think about it. Definitely the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but then again, I don’t do that many stupid things.
“Are you very tired?” I say softly. I’m not. The adrenaline is pumping through me like crazy.
“No,” she replies. “I’m wide awake. Like I’m coked out.”
I stop in my tracks as my mind goes into overdrive. “How the hell do you know what cocaine feels like?”
Henri rolls her eyes. “I’m not a junkie, just do a few lines now and again.”
I know she’s egging me on, but that doesn’t settle me down. “You’re messing with me.”
“Duh. I wasn’t talking about the drug. I was talking about the beverage.”
My heart slows down. “Not funny, you stupid—”
“I didn’t think you cared,” she comes back at me.
“I don’t,” I say tersely. But I’m lying. The idea of Henri on drugs makes me afraid. It would ruin her life and for some reason I can’t stand the thought of that.
We lapse into silence again until we’re about a half block from the hangout.
“How’re we gonna do this?” Henri whispers as we hide in the shadows.
I debate the options. Should we call Hangman for help or should we try to rescue Selkie and dad ourselves?
Henri reads my thoughts. “We should call Hangman.”
Saying it out loud like that makes me decide it’s the wrong plan. “I think he was the reason my dad got all hinky. Because he thought Hangman had a hand in your mom getting kidnapped.”
“Maybe,” she murmurs.
“So we need a plan B.”
“We could sneak in,” Henri ventures.
I shake my head. “I don’t think it’ll be easy to sneak in. Not like at Kozlov’s place.”
She gnaws on a knuckle. “Then what?”
We’re quiet for a moment, then I say, “Why don’t we tell them we want to join the club?”
“You’re kidding, right?” she replies derisively. “Look at the way we’re dressed.” She points at my sneakers. “You’re wearing Autry lowtops for god’s sake.”
“Yeah,” I say impatiently. “That’ll work in our favor. These guys all have serious money, so they won’t think we’re street grunge. They’ll think we’re stupid teenagers who can’t stand our parents.”
“What if they beat us up or kill us?”
“They won’t,” I say with more bravado than I feel. “They always want new gang members. And we’re young so they’ll think they can easily push us around.”
“What if they’re like Hell’s Jury and don’t let girls join?”
“They let girls join,” I reply with more assurance than I feel.
“What if—”
I cut her off. “You got a better idea?”
She takes a long look towards the 311 Clubhouse. “No.”
“Just let me do the talking. My dad’s a Hell’s Jury. I know how to act.”
Henri looks like she’s about to argue, then clamps her lips together and nods tersely.
I take her arm and steer her towards the clubhouse. As we step out of the shadows, I see two of the club members, one guy, one girl, sitting on the steps smoking weed by the smell of it. I almost turn around. Dad hates drugs, all of them.
It’s too late for a retreat as they spot us.
“Got a death wish, assholes?” the guy says as he stands.
He’s tall, like well over six feet, but pretty skinny.
I figure he’s maybe 20. He’s wearing some righteous sneakers and a Gap T-shirt.
Nice teeth, good haircut and an attitude that screams ‘I’ve got money’.
The girl stands up too. She looks like a shrimp next to the guy, but she’s taller than me and Henri.
Unlike the guy, her clothes look like they’ve been bought from the Salvation Army.
Her face is sallow with dark circles under her eyes.
Her hair is long and unbrushed, stringing out down her back.
She looks like she hasn’t slept in a week.
I feel bad for her because she doesn’t belong, even though she’s trying hard to copy the guy’s swagger.
I don’t know how the 311 Boys let her into their gang unless she’s someone’s girlfriend or something.
Henri crowds closer to me. “We should run,” she whispers.
“Too late,” I reply as a couple of other gangbangers join the guy and the girl.
I clear my throat then decide I better start acting like dad or we’ll never get through the front door.
I grab Henri’s hand and swagger up to them. “Nope. Heard you were recruiting. We wanna join.” The words, my tone sound right despite my heart trying to fly out of my chest.
The girl, who can’t be older than 16, looks us up and down. “What’s up with you two, hanging around here? Go back to kindergarten.”
I get annoyed and forget to be scared. “They got room in your play school, babyface?” That sounded more like something Rocky or Trigger would say, but whatever.
Henri’s breathing deepens as she tightens her grip on my hand.
“Fuck you,” the girl replies as she curls her fists and takes a step towards us. “Let’s fuck ‘em up, Cam.”
Cam shakes his head. “Leave ‘em alone, Soprano. You weren’t much older when you joined.”
“But I wasn’t so lame,” she replies with hostility.
“Guess, you grew out of it,” I say dryly. “Don’t wanna talk to you guys anyway. Where’s Renfrew?”
The guys who joined us snicker. “You know him?” one of them asks.
I shrug and sidestep the question. “Bet he makes the decisions.”
Soprano’s attention flicks to Henri. “You mute, bitch?”
Henri sucks in a breath. “No. Can’t fit a word in with all your talkin’.’’
That’s Henri. She’s scared until someone gives her attitude. Then she starts swinging.
Soprano glares at Henri, then gives her a smile like I’ve seen Verity do - vicious and hostile. “You better hope Renfrew lets you in, ‘cause if he don’t, I get first crack at you.”
“You and who’s army?” Henri sneers.
I squeeze her hand. “Enough, Henri.” The Fleming women don’t ever seem to know when to shut up.
She glares at me. “Suck balls.”
The guys laugh. Cam says to me, “Like how you handle the girlfriend.”
“I’m not—,” Henri starts, but I stomp on her foot as I grab her around the shoulders and pull her into me. I can tell she’s struggling not to punch me in the nose.
“She’s a handful. Gotta keep her in line.”
“I’m gonna kill you,” Henri whispers.
“I’m scared,” I reply.
Cam jerks his head towards the door. “Let’s get you to Renfrew. It’ll be interesting to see how bad he’s gonna hurt you.” He says to the other two guys. “Stick around outside.”
He leads us through the door. Soprano follows.
The clubhouse looks like an abandoned warehouse, which it probably is.
The air is thick with weed and music is blaring out of speakers.
Serious metalhead stuff. All sorts of tables are scattered around, some couches and armchairs, and a few mattresses against the walls.
There’s a couple on one of the mattresses screwing.
“God,” Henri moans as she looks at them. “I’m gonna be sick.”
“Don’t,” I mutter. We can’t look like lightweights.
She raises her lip. “It wasn’t literal, stupid.”
There are a lot of guys and girls hanging around. Not just young, but older guys too. A bunch of them are sitting at a round table, playing poker.
Henri sucks in a breath and says, “Balls!”
“What?” I reply wishing she’d shut up.
“Sadie’s here! He knows who we are.”
Balls is right!
Neither of us has any more time to discuss the problem because we’re herded towards Renfrew. He’s lounging on a couch, cigarette in one hand, a bottle of beer tucked between his thighs. He’s got his arm around a girl, kissing her neck, but when he sees us, he pushes her away.
“Who the fuck are these brats?” he says to Cam as he straightens up.
Soprano sneers. “Kids. Say they wanna join.”
“Names!” Renfrew snaps.
Soprano and Cam look at us. Cam says, “We didn’t ask.”
“Jesus fuck, you moron,” Renfrew says to him. “And that’s why you aren’t fucking in charge of anything.”
I step in. “I’m Oscar. This is Henri.” No point in fake names. That’ll trip us up somewhere down the line.
“We don’t take minors,” Renfrew says through a vicious grin.
“Not minors,” I reply. “We’re both 14.” I’m a month away from being thirteen and Henri might already be. Saying we’re 14 isn’t a stretch.
Renfrew’s eyes deaden as he looks at Cam. “You search them?”
“Not yet.”
“Jesus Christ. You let them in without checking for weapons. I’m gonna fucking kick your ass.” He waits for Cam to respond, and when he doesn’t, Renfrew narrows his eyes and says, “Do it now, you fuck-up.”
“Arms up,” Cam barks at Henri. Henri starts to obey but I shove her behind me.
“Fuck you!” I snarl at him. “You lay a hand on her and I’ll rip your arms off.”
I’m shorter than him by a mile, but I know I can take him. He looks weak and the weed he was smoking outside will slow him down.
Renfrew throws his head back and laughs. “Soprano, search the girl and be gentle. Don’t want Oscar to take offence.”
Cam turns to me. “Arms up, fucker.”
I do as I’m told and he pats me up and down aggressively. He starts to grab my balls and I kick his feet out from under him. He lands hard, his head bouncing off the cement.
“Touch me like that again, and I’ll put you in the hospital.”
Soprano seems to get the message, patting Henri down quickly. “She’s clean.”
Cam climbs to his feet. “Don’t ever turn your back on me, you prick. You won’t live to see morning.”
“Fuck off.”
Renfrew says in a bored voice, “Is he clean?”
“Yeah,” Cam replies sullenly.
Renfrew stands. He’s tall, clean-shaven, designer clothes. “You good with knives, Oscar?” He’s all but ignoring Henri.
“Better with a gun,” I reply. I give a mental thanks to dad for teaching me how to shoot.
“But you’re not packing,” Renfrew says.
“Because I’m not stupid. Not gonna walk in here with a gun.”
“Hey,” a loud voice echos across the floor. “I know that brat!”
“Oh hell,” Henri whispers.
Sadie stumbles up to us. He’s clearly high or drunk or both. “I seen you before,” he says to Henri as he points an unsteady finger.
Henri turns to him. “Where? Because I’ve never seen anyone as ugly as you before!”
“I’ll figure it out, you little c—”
I step in front of Henri. “Watch what you’re calling my girl, asshole.” Yep, that sounds exactly like Rocky. Thank god I have good role models.
Sadie staggers backwards. “I seen you, too. Not sure where from, but I’ll figure it out.” Then he weaves away.
Thank you for being a hophead. “When you do, let us know.” I call after him.
We’ll be screwed when Sadie sobers up, but by then, hopefully, we’ll have rescued Dad and Selkie and be long gone.