Sicko(18)

“What is it?” I snap. “You know I’m away, so this better be a fucking emergency.”

“Oh, it is. Sorry.”

“Stop saying fucking sorry.”

“Oh, right, ah, so, Roo has been shot and we’re wondering what we should do.”

My jaw tenses. “Is it a fatal wound?”

There’s more shuffling and then Lion’s old ass voice comes through. Lion is our club president. How he got that name is a long fucking story. Mine is Sicko, and that’s also… a long fucking story.

“Can always count on my VP to put the fear of God into the prospects.” Lion chuckles down the phone.

“Maybe we need to reevaluate who we are letting drag their feet through our clubhouse then.”

“I think Fluff is a good one. You’ve just got to be nice.”

“I’m never nice. You know this.”

He chuckles again, and I can just imagine the cigar hanging from between his frail lips.

“Is it fatal?” I ask again, sighing.

“It’s not. Just wanted to scare Fluff. You make him nervous. I think he actually shits himself every time he has to talk to you. How are the parents?”

“Same, same. I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, alright,” Lion grunts. “Anything I need to know?” The question doesn’t throw me off. Lion always asks it. The fucking hypersensitive prick.

“If you did, you’d know.” I hang up my phone and make my way back into the kitchen, pulling out the chair opposite Jade and sinking into the plush leather. My eyes never leave hers.

She picks up her glass of water and empties it in one go, all while trying her hardest to not have to look at me.

“Son, how have you been?” my father asks beside me, cutting into his steak. We lose ourselves in conversation about normal ass shit that I used to be into. I feel bad, I fucking do. I felt bad the day I walked away from all of them with the intention of never returning. That boy with an attitude problem turned into a man with issues. Real fucking issues. But until recently, I’ve found myself having to drag my ass back to this house for the very reason I fucking left.

Her.

“Royce,” my mom mutters, patting her mouth with her linen napkin and placing it daintily onto the table. “Please tell me you haven’t joined a motorcycle club.”

Dad silences beside me.

My eyes find Jade, who isn’t watching me smugly, she’s more bored. Blank and expressionless. She’s a mere fucking shadow to the girl I once knew. She doesn’t want to be here anymore than I do. When we were kids, she had a glow about her, even when we would fight. There was fire that lit up her aura. Now that fire seems to have burned.

“I have. Been there for four years now, Ma.”

“Where is there, and why, Royce?”

I toss my napkin onto my plate. Guess we’re doing this now. “LA. Not too far from you.” My eyes cut to Jade’s. “But far enough.”

“Aren’t you going to say something, Jade?” My mother vocally gasps at Jade. “You two were always so close…”

Jade chokes on her water. It was no secret how close Jade and I were. Everyone called Jade my pet. She was always hanging off my arm, wanting to do everything with me, Orson, and Storm, and she was the only one who was allowed. Pissed a lot of bitches off, the fact that they couldn’t ride with us, but my little foster sister could, but they dealt with it. Jade would make my birthday cake every year too, her and Mom in the kitchen getting messy while Dad was always away doing business shit.

“I have nothing to say,” Jade mutters. “Actually, can I be excused?” Mom flicks her wrist, agreeing and Jade shuffles out of the dining room, my eyes never straying from her. When she jogs up the stairs, I watch as her ass bounces with each step.

I bite my lip and grin. If she wasn’t my foster sister, I’d have that parked on my shit for at least two business days.

“Kyle?” My mom points at my old man.

He looks at me, and I look at him and all of that awkward bullshit that happens anytime someone is in trouble.

“Mom? I’m twenty-fucking-two years old. I don’t need you stressing. I survived on my own, with my brothers, for four years.”

“That’s beyond the point, Royce! I have been so stressed. You have—” Her tears start coming, and it’s the first time I look at her. Really fucking look at her. She has aged drastically since I left. Wearing her hair short, wrapped around her jaw. Wrinkles line the curves around her eyes, but we all know she gets injections on her forehead.

“Sorry, Ma… wasn’t the plan.”

“So what happened?” Mom asks, finally bringing her eyes to me.

“I can’t talk about that with you.”

She sighs, standing and clearing the table. “Well, I hope you at least visit more often.”

I stand with her, gazing to my old man who is watching me carefully. “Been a very empty house without you, boy…” Dad, on the other hand, looks good for his age. But then, he always fucking did. If only the good looks and charm can hide what lingers beneath the savage businessman that is Kyle Kane.

I punch his arm, a little on the rough side. “How much are you benching?”

He shakes his head and laughs. “More than you.” I go into the kitchen and help Mom with the dishes.