Bones
My head was pounding, and I had a terrible case of cotton mouth.
I drank too much at the club’s New Year’s Eve party—which was unusual for me.
I rarely touched the stuff. I liked how it made me feel.
I liked it a lot. I worried I might end up liking it too much, so I usually did my best to steer clear of the stuff.
Drugs, too. But it was New Year’s Eve, and the guys were insistent that I stay and party with them.
I agreed, and it wasn’t long before I had a beer in my hand.
I might’ve stopped with the one, but then I spotted Elsie tucked away in a corner talking to Hayes.
I knew they were just friends but seeing her laughing and bantering with him got under my skin.
I had no right to be so bothered. The brothers might’ve known how I felt about Elsie, but they also knew I hadn’t done anything about it.
I hadn’t pursued my feelings for her.
I hadn’t even tried to claim her.
Simply put—she wasn’t mine.
Hayes or any other Joe Blow could stake their claim, and I’d be left out in the fucking cold.
And yet, I didn’t go over and talk to her at the party.
I didn’t tell her that she consumed my every thought.
Instead, I sat there at the bar with Rooster and Torch and tried to act like I was completely unphased as I drank my weight in booze.
It was a decision I would come to regret—not just because of Elsie and Hayes, but because of my massive hangover.
I was struggling.
After I got dressed, I made my way to the kitchen.
When I walked in, several of the guys were sitting at the table eating breakfast, and from the looks of it, they were struggling, too.
They were all busy grumbling under their breaths, complaining about their rough morning, so I didn’t bother greeting them.
Instead, I walked straight over to the medicine cabinet and grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen.
I got a couple and tossed them back, praying it wouldn’t be long before they started to kick in.
Once I’d returned the bottle, I went over to the stove, and as I made myself a plate of food, I heard Q say, “Damn, Diesel. You look like hell.”
“I feel like hell, too. My head feels like someone is stabbing me in the skull with a dull butter knife, and I’m pretty sure a cat shit in my mouth.
Somebody needs to put a fucking bullet in my head.
” I took my plate over to the table and sat down next to Diesel, listening as he continued, “I can't believe I drank so much last night.”
“Hell, it was New Year’s Eve.” Q chuckled. “We all got a little carried away.”
“Carried away is an understatement. I acted a damn fool.” Diesel turned a bit green as he asked, “Who was the wise-ass who brought the Mad Dog 20/20?”
“Pretty sure that was Chains.”
“Well, he needs his fucking ass kicked.” Diesel shook his head as he complained, “I haven’t had that nasty shit since I was in my fucking teens, and I couldn’t get my hands on anything else.”
“You certainly seemed to be enjoying it last night.” Q chuckled as he turned to me and said, “Bones did, too.”
“Enjoy is not the term I’d use.” I grimaced as I remembered the stout taste of soured berries and alcohol. “Not that it mattered. By the time we cracked open the second bottle, I didn’t care what the fuck it tasted like.”
“Me neither. That’s why I’m in the shape I’m in now.” Diesel took a long drink of his water, then looked at me and scowled. “How come you don’t look like death warmed over?”
“That’s just because I’m better looking than you.”
“Um-hmm. Whatever you say, boss.”
“I still feel like shit.” I ran my hand through my disheveled hair. “Don’t think I’ll be drinking again for a while.”
“I second that,” Diesel grumbled.
“Are you three done belly aching?” Savage asked as he sat down with a huff. “Cause we got other things to discuss.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know. How about why the hell has it been so fucking quiet for the past three weeks?” Savage’s brows furrowed with anger as he snarled, “These assholes highjacked our server, kidnapped, and beat the fuck out of Q and Rooster, and then just gave up? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Cotton agreed.
Like the rest of us, our president had been biting at the bit to figure out who’d been fucking with us.
Big and I had been doing what we could to track them down, but sadly, they’d come and gone without a trace, and we were all left wondering when they’d be back—because there was no doubt that they’d be back.
Savage turned to his father as he said, “Is it just me, or do you have a bad feeling that something’s coming?”
“It’s not just you, son,” Cotton answered. “We all took a moment to catch our breaths and bring in the new year, but now, it’s time to get our heads back in the game and prepare for what lies ahead.”
“That’s just it.” Savage looked Cotton dead in the eye. “We don’t know what lies ahead, and that’s something we’ve never faced before.”
“We’ve faced it before, son. Just not in your time.” He placed his hand on Savage’s shoulder as he assured him, “We got through it then, and we’ll get through it now.”
“How we gonna do that when we don’t even know who’s been fucking with us?”
“We stay vigilant. Keep our eyes and ears open and stay prepared for anything.”
As I sat there listening to my brothers talk about the steps we needed to take, I thought about how much my life had changed since I was a kid.
There was a time when I wouldn’t have been included in such a conversation—not because I wasn’t capable of handling such a heavy topic.
I was. But the people in my life didn’t seem to think so.
They were too focused on what was “wrong” with me to ever notice what was right.
My difficulty adjusting to change and sensitivity to loud noises had my doctor and teachers believing that I’d never be able to fit in with my peers, and my inability to conform would make it difficult to form relationships with them.
They weren’t wrong.
I did have issues. Hell, I had a lot of them.
I didn’t know it. I didn’t really care. As far as I was concerned, I was as normal as the next guy, and for all intents and purposes, I had it pretty good.
I was freakishly smart. I could read about something one time and never forget it.
And if I was interested in something, I’d spend hours researching everything I could find on it—almost obsessively so.
I could also see things in a way that others couldn’t—which gave me an unexpected advantage whenever I had a problem to solve.
I was a hell of a gamer. I would play something over and over until I had it down pat and could beat anyone I came up against. It was that push to excel that got me interested in computer hacking.
I already had some background knowledge of computer programming and a baseline vocabulary to draw on, so it wasn’t all that difficult.
I used what I already knew and dove deeper.
I spent hours on end learning everything there was on cybersecurity, networking, and scripting, and with Big’s help, I became damn good at it.
I also became good at listening to my mother.
I know it sounds cheesy, but I trusted her.
So, when she told me to watch and listen to the people around me, I watched and listened.
Not because I wanted to. I didn’t. But I didn’t want to be the things my father had called me even more.
It was that mindset that had me doing all kinds of things I didn’t want to do.
Eventually, I taught myself how to fit in.
I started interacting with others, and by hanging with the brothers, I even got good at it. Hell, a stranger would have no clue that I even had Asperger’s. My improvements weren’t the norm, but I did the work. I pushed myself to the limit time and time again, and it paid off.
I was no longer an outsider.
I was a Fury brother, and I was treated as such.
After several minutes of back and forth, Cotton turned to me with urgency in his eyes. “I need you and Big to find something... anything we can use to find these guys.”
“We’ll do our best, Prez.”
“I’m counting on you, son. We all are.”
“Won’t let you down, sir.”
Without saying anything more, I stood, and after I carried my plate over to the sink, I headed down the hall to the work room.
There was a time when Big and I had our own spaces—each with our own specific equipment and software, but over time, we merged the two and created a computer center like none other.
When I walked in, I wasn’t surprised that Big was already there and busy at work.
I went over to my desk, and as I sat down, I asked, “What are you working on?”
“I’m trying to locate all the security cameras between here and town and from town to the warehouse where they took Q and Rooster.
” He leaned back in his chair with a huff.
“I figured we could cross reference them between the city and the property owners—see if we can find any that don’t belong, but just when I think I’ve got them all, I come across another one. ”
“Want me to give you a hand?”
“Yeah.” He grabbed the map from his desk and spread it across the table behind him, then said, “Here are the ones I’ve found and identified ownership on. Once we have them all, we can take a drive and see if we can find any others.”
“Sounds like a lot of work.”
“I know.” There was no missing the frustration in his voice as he explained, “There’s something here. I feel it in my gut.”
“Then, we’ll keep at it until we find a connection.”
He nodded, and I walked over to my desk and got to work.
I was often distracted or felt off-center whenever I was trying to work alongside someone, but it was different with Big. He was my mentor. He taught me everything he knew and showed me how to use my love of computers to locate information in ways I never imagined.
We’d been at it for several hours when Big turned to me and asked, “Have you gotten to Lexington Street yet?”