Chapter Ten
Ryatt
“We need to talk,” Cruz said.
Every fucking bone in my body had passed the point of exhaustion. Not only did my ribs ache, but my stomach was empty, and I was too tired to eat. But it looked like I was having another conversation.
Cruz crossed the room, opened his drawer, and handed me a T-shirt and McKelle a pair of boxers.
“Thanks.” McKelle slipped on the boxers then grabbed the ointment and bandages Levi had left.
Once I pulled the shirt on, I leaned against the dresser. McKelle took my hand in hers and treated the abrasions on my wrists. The smile on her lips didn’t reach her eyes. She was worried. The tension in the room thickened. I could feel the pressure weighing on me.
“What’s going on?” I asked. I could sort of get why Kiss would be here. We were each other’s sponsors in NA, but not in the middle of the night. Anything I had to say to Kiss could wait until morning or at a meeting at the community center over cookies and coffee.
Cruz’s gaze shifted from me to Blue. All Blue and I had in common was Kiss. So why was he tripping?
Blue plucked at the threads of the worn knees of his jeans. “I’m not sure where to start.”
“It’s my fault,” Kiss said as tears slipped onto her cheeks. “Ryatt, I’m so sorry.”
Sorry for what?
“It’s not your fault.” Blue rubbed his palms on his thighs. “None of this is your fault. It’s mine.”
McKelle’s brows pinched. It seemed like we were both confused.
“Storytime,” Cruz said. “Get comfortable.” He opened the window and then tapped a cigarette from his pack. “Because this shit tonight started months ago.”
“I know what you’re going through,” Blue said to me. “A couple months ago some mafia fucks sent a message to Bullet by leaving me for dead at Good Girl Studios.”
“I was trying to get clean,” Kiss said. “It was my fault Blue was hurt. That was enough of a reason for me to go back to heroin. I’d been to rehab,” she said to me. “But I was always looking for a reason to use so I started hitting parties with my dealer.”
A tingle prickled the back of my neck. The only reason they were here was because this story somehow connected to me.
Cruz blew a stream of smoke through the open window. “As soon as Blue was on his feet again, we went looking for her. Trap houses, parties, Washington Street Park.”
“I wasn’t going to lose her to the streets,” Blue said. “I wasn’t giving up on us. I needed Cruz’s help getting into the places where I had a chance of finding Kiss. He’s the Mr. Rodgers of the fucking neighborhood.”
Cruz tapped ash on the windowsill. “I know some people. One of those is a friend. Kane.”
A vibration started low in my gut. I gripped the edge of the dresser to keep my hands from shaking. “I know Kane.”
Cruz nodded. “I know. With the history I have with Kane, I’m surprised we haven’t met before now.”
McKelle’s shoulders stiffened, and she focused on my wounds, dabbing them with ointment. “Cruz knows everyone.”
There was more story here, but I’d wait for her to tell me. Right now, I wanted to know how the fuck Blue, Kiss, and Cruz connected to Kane and the Kings.
“Kane’s place is known for drugs,” Cruz said. “Blue and I hit one of his parties, and Kiss was there.”
“I was in deep,” she whispered. “I owed my dealer. Even if I’d wanted out at that point, I couldn’t get away. My addiction had a hold on me…and so did Sam.”
“That night Kane’s place was raided,” Blue said.
The words hung in the silence that followed. Cruz rolled the filter of his cigarette between his thumb and index finger. Tears continued to streak down Kiss’s face, and Blue leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.
Cruz stared at me. “We know you’re not a narc, Rizz, because the guy who ratted out the Kings was at Kane’s crib that night. You went down for shit that had nothing to do with you.”
My heart pounded and my knees weakened. I slid down the dresser and sat on the floor. I braced my elbows on my bent knees.
Blue continued the story. “When he showed up, we bounced.” He glanced from Kiss to Cruz. “Me, Kiss, Cruz, Kane, and Sam.”
“We crawled to a vacant trailer,” Cruz said, “and broke in to wait out the raid. SWAT, K9, and just about every fucking cop on the force was there.”
Kiss climbed off the bed and sat on the floor across from me. “I was so disgusted with myself. I knew Blue would hate me because of the things I’d done for my addiction.”
“You’re good now,” I said. “One day at a time.”
“I am good now. But I wasn’t then. I hated what I’d become. I couldn’t let Blue see me dope sick. I was afraid he’d walk away from me, so I ran first. I’ve been known to make some bad decisions, and someone always seems to pay for my mistakes.”
Blue crossed the room, sat next to Kiss, and took her hand in his. Then he turned to me. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Fuck.” He closed his eyes and tipped his head back. “This was supposed to be behind us. I told Rogue no one would know what went down at the trailer.”
“Rogue doesn’t get a vote in this.” Cruz came around and squatted down next to Blue.
“I’m always going to have your back, Blue.
I love you, bruh. What you have with Kiss, that’s what I want with McKelle.
” He stared at me then turned back to Blue.
“It’s what I want with Ryatt. I can’t have secrets from him, especially when he’s involved. ”
Cruz continued, “If anyone has to go down for that night, I’ll take the fall. I made a promise to you,” he said to Blue. “But I promised her, too.” Cruz glanced at McKelle. “I can’t keep this from her, not when Ryatt’s paying the price for what we did.”
Kings thought I was the narc. Their dealer was dead, and Kiss’s dealer was a King. The picture was becoming clearer.
Blue nodded, and Cruz settled on his ass next to him. Somehow, we’d all ended up on the floor, only a couple feet of space between us.
Cruz smiled at me, but it wasn’t the devious, devil grin that made him appear a bit unhinged. This was sharing a secret between us. We’d been in that bathroom. We’d changed. I knew whatever he had to say was because of whatever this was between me, him, and McKelle.
“What did you do?” McKelle’s voice was barely a whisper in the quiet room.
Blue exhaled long and slow. “I threatened to kill Kiss’s dealer if he ever shot her up again, and then I found him in the bathroom putting a needle in her arm. He died in a bathtub of an overdose we forced into his veins.”
“Oh my god.” McKelle covered her mouth with her fingers.
The acrid taste of bile climbed into my throat. Anxiety hit my bloodstream, and I could feel a trickle of sweat sliding over the pleats of my spine.
Cruz’s mouth hardened into a tight line. “Kings, cops, and anyone else would assume Sam died of an overdose. Another dead junkie.”
Kiss’s head dropped and tears dampened her cheeks.
“Fuck.” I couldn’t breathe. My ribs burned as I tried to suck in a breath. I stood, wrapped an arm around my ribs, and paced across the floor.
“Ryatt,” Kiss scrambled off the floor. “I’m sorry.”
I wanted to rail at her, but this wasn’t her fault any more than it was mine.
A series of unfortunate events led me here.
It was hard to know how to feel. I took a calming breath.
Sobriety was a fragile thing, and she already carried enough guilt.
“It’s okay, Kiss. Blue’s right. This isn’t your fault. ”
But it wasn’t my fucking fault either, yet I had the Kings after me for shit I didn’t do. This was so fucked. No, I hadn’t killed their dealer, but that wasn’t the only reason they were after me.
“Who’s the narc?” I asked because that asshole fucked my life.
“A skin who goes by Tone,” Cruz said. “He hasn’t been around in a while. My guess is he bounced once Kings pinned you as the narc.”
I turned to Kiss and forced a smile. “I could never be angry with you. My life was fucked long before your dealer died in a bathtub.” Careful of my ribs, I turned to Blue. “I would’ve done the same thing. I’m glad you told me.”
They left, and I was alone with Cruz and McKelle with one bed and more unanswered questions.
“I’m going to get some sleep.” I sat on the edge of the bed. “If we’re all in this bed together, you need to be in the middle,” I said to McKelle. “And he needs to keep his clothes on.”
There was tension in the room as Cruz snapped off the light. The bed dipped as McKelle climbed on and slipped beneath the blanket. I slid my legs next to hers.
She curled on her side and hesitantly rested her hand on my arm. I think she was afraid to touch anywhere else because of the bruising. “Are you okay?”
Not really, but I think I was mentally numb. I wasn’t angry. Nothing about my situation would be any different if it hadn’t been Blue and Cruz who killed Sam. A narc called Tone put me in the crosshairs of the Kings.
“Just tired,” I said.
“You need to rest.”
I would with her next to me. Cruz’s bed was comfortable. I could feel every spring in the mattress of the twin sized bed at the halfway house. Or maybe it was McKelle’s warm body aligned with mine.
“Tomorrow, we’ll talk to Blade,” Cruz said with a yawn. “The MC has an attorney. Maybe he can do something to get you out from under your PO and out of the halfway house.”
The bed shifted as Cruz rolled into McKelle. His arm brushed mine as he curled around her.
My heart kicked into gear, going from tired to amped in two point five seconds. In the darkened room, I could feel her watching me. Her whisper-soft breath floated on the cool night air coming through the open window.
A distant police siren sounded from outside the MC gates.
I felt a prickle of unease. Up until tonight, I’d fucked around smoking weed, popping a few scrips, and selling a bit on the side, but after tonight, we were talking felony, life-fucking, lifelong convictions—that was—if anyone ever found out.