26. Blake
26
BLAKE
“Alright, now that we’ve decided Stricklin’s gonna die,” Mace says matter-of-factly. “We’ve got to map it out to be as clean as possible.”
“This is boring. We’ve done enough planning. Let’s go shoot shit up.” Ozzie sighs.
Mace grits his teeth. “We’ve been over this. Stricklin’s a cop. No matter how much we want to turn up and spray his ass with bullets, we can’t go leaving a fucking paper trail. We’re already being investigated by the law.”
“How about we get the Hellrazors involved?” Tito asks, stroking his chin. “They owe us for sparing them during our last altercation.”
I’m barely listening to a word the others are saying. I’m peering out the window of the club office, my eyes narrowed as they can go. Pulsboro PD isn’t even trying to hide the fact that they’re tailing us—there’s a squad car parked across the street from the saloon. Some rookie asshole whose name I don’t give a fuck to learn.
Turning away from the window with my arms folded, I’m sick and tired of listening to the strategies being discussed. Mace is convinced we’ve got to be careful about our next move, but I’m done with being careful.
Stricklin dies tonight. One way or another.
Mace glances over at me as if reading my thoughts. “Cash, you hearing this?”
“No,” I answer in the bluntest tone. I slide fingers through my hair, barely containing myself from doing what I want to do in the moment. “I’m not listening ’cuz I told you where I stand. Stricklin’s done. I couldn’t give less of a shit how you think it should go down.”
“I get it. You want to tear him apart. I was where you are when the Rebels had Sydney. We’ll get him. We’ll make him pay.” Mace reaches out and grips my shoulder in his hand that’s capable of just as much damage as mine.
I shrug him off, my insides a deep pit of rage there’s no clawing out from. It’s taken over me, turned me into some kind of entity existing with one goal and one goal only. To seek and destroy. Tear apart the man that’s standing in the way of the rest of my life.
Korine.
Mom and Bill have made things no easier. Rather than leave me the hell alone after our failed family dinner, they’ve taken it upon themselves to reach out once they found out I’d been arrested. Bill left a scathing five-minute-long voice mail telling me I was a piece of shit that thought I was better than him… when all I really am is a drunk.
It’s only amplified the rage that’s already pent up inside me. It’s made me want to stop holding back and unleash everything I’ve been holding back.
My heart booms in my chest and roars in my ears. My hands flex open and shut and I feel the violence swelling up inside me. It’s about to unleash itself.
There’s no stopping it; there’s no holding this kind of brutality inside. I’ve held back long enough.
The other guys in the room exchange looks. Tito steps in the path between me and the door.
“Sit. I’ll grab you a Coke,” he says amicably. In a the way only Tito could pull off. “We all need to let off steam. We get ourselves going like this—it’s never good.”
“Not now,” I drawl. “Step out of my way, Tito.”
The uncle-like King defers to Mace from beyond my shoulder. Mace gives a motion of his head that signals he should do as I say and get the hell out of my way. I leave the office behind and stride across the lot that leads to the Chop Shop. If I have any hope of hanging onto my sanity, then I need to see the person that reminds me of the good in the world.
“You seen Kori?”
Chaz sits up from where he’s lying on the floor replacing some tires. “She left not too long ago. Something about her mama and an appointment. I thought you were at the One Stop? We need those spark plugs for the Screaming Eag—hey!”
I’ve moved on the moment he said Korine’s not here. I almost head through the front exit of the shop ’til I remember the police have staged a full-fledged stakeout on the street outside. Doubling back, I opt for the rear exit while I fire off a text to Korine.
Minutes pass to no answer.
But I do get a slew of texts from somebody else. Probably one of the last people I cared to hear from.
Cash… we need to talk. There’s something I have to tell you…
Please answer… I feel terrible about it…
It’s something you’ll want to know. Cash text me back!
I’m too focused on hearing from Korine to bother replying to any of Janessa’s stupid messages.
I’ve ridden off on my Street Bob, outgunning lights and cutting off traffic. Every other street, I glance at my phone to see if Korine’s replied. The last time she stopped responding she’d been pulled over on the side of the road by that piece of shit. If he’s gone anywhere near her, I swear I’ll rip out his intestines with my bare hands. I’ll fucking choke him out with them…
Violent thoughts fester ’til they’re immersive daydreams that distract me from reality. I’ve pulled up outside Korine’s apartment complex without realizing it. I dismount and start for her apartment.
The parking lot’s far from empty. Several residents have gathered to chat among themselves. Each of them wears an expression of concern, like they’ve witnessed something troubling. I don’t give much of a damn considering I’m here for Korine only.
But one of them, a middle-aged woman that lives on the same floor as Korine and Sunny and who I’ve seen in passing before, calls out to me.
“You’re the boyfriend, right?”
I stop short, throwing a look over in her direction. “There a reason you’re asking?”
“You just missed it,” she answers. “The ambulance. It came and took the mother. She had some kind of stroke. The daughter was nowhere to be found. Nobody could get a hold of her.”
The lady’s words reverberate ten times louder than they are. I freeze for a split second to process them, taking in their meaning, before the thin string keeping me civilized snaps. She calls after me as I break out in a run toward my bike. I don’t bother with any of my gear, don’t even fucking bother checking around me, slamming on the gas.
Several of the residents shriek as I streak through the parking lot with no warning. Right hand on the handlebar to steer myself, my left grips my cell. If she didn’t answer her texts before, I don’t expect her to answer her phone, yet I call anyway.
I try ’cuz I’m spiraling down a dark tunnel I won’t be able to pull myself out of anytime soon. Someplace where only blood and violence exists with no consideration for consequence. My gut tells me all I need to know—Stricklin’s behind this.
The call rings three times with no answer. I’m about to hang up when somebody answers on the fourth.
“Kori!” I shout over the rush of the wind. “Where are you? Your mother’s had a stroke?—”
“Kor can’t answer the phone right now,” Stricklin interrupts, his tone cool. Threaded with a hint of sick glee. “But I thought I’d let you know she’s with me. Where she belongs.”
“You fucking piece of shit!”
“Interesting. Because I’d say the only piece of shit here is you. The trash that tried to take my wife from me.”
“She wants nothing to do with you.”
“It’s never mattered what she wants. She made a vow ’til death. I’m holding her to that,” he replies. “I told her she wouldn’t get away—but if you really think she belongs to you, then you should come. Try to take her from me. Isn’t that what you were going to do anyway?”
I glare at the road up ahead, the scenery whizzing by. “You’re a fucking dead man.”
“We’ll see about that. It’s about time we handle this. Come alone.”
The line clicks before it goes dead, and I’m roaring louder than the beastly rumble from my engine. I gun it, barreling down the road, straight for Stricklin’s.
To end this once and for all.