Page 29 of Full Throttle

I knew better than to argue. When I argued, she liked to slap my face, and that shi—I mean, it hurt a lot. As I got to my feet, I couldn’t help but look over at the girl. She was staring at me, her lips turned into a frown. Something inside of me wanted to tell her not to worry about me, that I would be okay. She wouldn’t have to worry.

But maybe I wanted her to worry about me.

“Cain!” Mom barked.

I didn’t let my fear show as I walked across the yard, past my brother who mumbled “good luck” underneath his breath, and up to the porch. Mom snapped her fingers and pointed into the house. “Now.”

I remained silent as I stepped inside, the house dark and smelly. It made me want to gag. I hated how small it was in here. I hated this house.

I heard the door slam behind me, and when I turned around, I felt the hard, stinging slap of Mom’s backhand on my cheek. I stumbled back into the living room, tripping on the rug and falling back into a pile of trash. Bottles and cans rolled away as she towered over me. She bent down, her dark eyes sinister as she jabbed her pointy nail into my chest. “You are nothing but shit,” she sneered. “Do you hear me?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, and she looked up to my hair. Her face twisted in disgust as she whispered, “Don’t know where you came from, and half the time, I can’t believe it’s from me.”

I stared, waiting for her to be done. I tried so hard to ignore the pain coming from my cheek, and I felt a trickle of warm liquid run down it. She might have broken the skin. I’d have to find a way to cover it up for school next week.

“I wake up and look outside to find you taking something I bought you apart,” she lectured, her voice rising with every word. I didn’t look at her, keeping my gaze straight ahead on stairs. Soon she would be done, and I could go back outside. I didn’t bother correcting her either; that would only make it worse.

Mom didn’t buy me this bike.

I stole it. Over a year ago.

She continued her rant, kicking the trash around me but not hitting me again. She threw her arms out, shouting cuss words.

I wasn’t going to give her what she wanted.

She wanted me to fight back so she could hit me again.

I wasn’t Xander.

I didn’t want to fight back.

I just wanted to survive.

The longer I stared at the stairs, I pictured going inside my room, to my window. I pictured myself standing there, watching the girl next door as she played with her toys in her clean room. I pictured her looking over at me and smiling. I pictured me saying something through the open windows and her laughing.

I wanted to hear her laugh.

That’s what I imagined as Mom hit me again, hearing the green-eyed girl laugh.

Present day. St. Louis, MO.

My hands were covered in grease and oil as I got into my gray Toyota Supra, starting the car as my back ached. I’d just spent the last six hours finishing up a project for a customer in Germany. The car body was shipped to me from Mickey’s place in Denver a week ago. I installed the engine, test drove it, worked out the tweaks, and tomorrow I’d get the final product onto a ship.

After Leon’s drive, I needed some time to think, and the only place that allowed me to do that was when my hands were working on something. So, I came back to Oasis, working late hours into the day and night as I processed everything.

Jeremy wanted me to be included in the decisions for Oasis. I didn’t deserve that; I hadn’t paid my dues yet. I hadn’t even been here a year yet. I was man enough to admit that I wasn’t ready to take on that level of…authority yet. I was brought in for the Bratva and to help Oasis take them down. Yes, after Leon and I worked out our shit, I’d planned on staying in St. Louis and running my business out of Oasis.

I never expected them to offer me a permanent seat at their table after Kavi was six feet under.

Leon explained to me that he and the other two Oasis leaders felt that with my business bringing in income, I should have a seat at the table. I told him no. I still had so much of myself to prove, so much more that they had to find out before they could bring me up to that level.

I pulled out of the darkened parking lot of Oasis, knowing that for the next few weeks, it would remain empty, because we were now in the middle of winter. A nasty winter snow was expected to be here within the week. Shifting gears, I headed into the city, going through the part of town where Mina was ambushed by Kavi, where Tiggy was murdered.

I ground my teeth together as anger shot through my veins, my foot pressing hard on the gas. I shifted again, flying past the building, getting closer and closer to the glowing lights of St. Louis. Minutes later, I was flying through intersections, the roads empty as the citizens slept.

The turn to head to my place was up ahead. I could turn left and head home, or go straight into Soulard where Dominique was…

“Fuck,” I bit off, my fingers tightening around the steering wheel.

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