Page 55 of Raze

It’s a nine-hour journey back to Long Beach and I spend every minute of it thinking of the ways I can make up the time we’ve been apart. I’m gonna do everything I possibly can to get her that condo she wants, and this time without getting myself locked up.

I get off the bus and start heading toward the club, wondering how Wrath has been getting on, it wasn’t just Stacey I let down when I went to prison. I’d made a commitment to him, one that I couldn't see through, and I feel bad for that. I just hope he’s got his cut and is now a fully-fledged member because if anyone deserves it, it’s him.

“Raze.” Ruckus looks shocked to see me when I arrive at the gate he’s standing guard at. He stands up from the crate he’s sitting on and opens it, and I wonder why he looks so nervous.

“Still not patched in, I see.” I slap his prospect cut as I make my way through. “How about Aaron, is he–”

“Raze, we weren't expectin’ ya back here for another six months,” he interrupts.

“What can I say? I’m a charmer. I got an early parole hearin’ and here I am. I hope you’ve been keepin’ up on your sparrin’, just ‘cause I’ve been away ain’t no excuse for you to have slacked.” I raise both my fists into a guard and when he smiles sadly and looks down at his feet, I know for sure that there's something wrong. I’ve been teaching both him and Aaron, how to fight and they both have a natural talent for it.

“Where’s Stacey? She at work?” I ask, knowing that she’s gonna be excited to see me. I told her a year and here I am, after just six months. I guess helping Paul Monkhouse rid the world of that fucker who raped his daughter really did have its perks.

“No, Raze, she ain’t at work. She’s inside the clubhouse.” Ruckus looks a little pale and continues to avoid eye contact with me. I don’t know what the fuck’s gotten into him while I’ve been away, but I much prefer the cocky asshole he was before.

I leave him to it, stepping through the arch and into the yard, where I see Finn, Davey’s son, sitting by the empty pool and rolling himself a blunt.

“Looks good on ya, kid.” I nod across at him when I see he’s wearing a prospect jacket too, now. The kid can’t be any older than fourteen, he must be keen.

“Raze.” He stands up and throws a look toward his dad when Davey steps outta the clubhouse, and straight away I know there's something wrong.

“What the fuck you doin’ here?” Davey tosses the smoke he was about to light at the floor.

“Not exactly the welcome I was expectin’. I got early parole, you wanna tell me what's goin’ on?” I move toward the door but he blocks me.

“Raze, before ya go in there, I think me and you need to have a talk,” he tells me in that deep, rich voice of his.

“A talk? I’ve been inside for six months. I wanna beer and some alone time with my old lady.” I go to move past him and he blocks me again.

“Davey, what the fuck’s going on?” I hear the nerves in my laughter because I really am starting to worry. The look on his face tells me whatever it is, I ain’t gonna like it.

“I don’t know what to say to ya, Raze. This place, it’s all goin’ to shit.”

“Get out my way.” I force myself past him and barge through the door, barely able to see across the floor for all the smoke that’s clouding the room. There’s some woman off her tits dancing in the middle of the floor like she’s having some kind of spiritual awakening and when I look to the couch on my left and see the woman I’m in love with sprawled out on it, I hardly fuckin’ recognize her.

“Stacey.” I lean over her and lift up her head, it’s slumped right back, and the fact she’s laid out in just her underwear shocks me, as much as it angers me.

“Stace, what the fuck?” I notice that her stomach is much rounder than it was before I left, and as she slowly starts to come around she makes a moaning noise that sounds as if she’s in pain.

“Raze.” She smiles at me vacantly as she opens her eyes. “You came home.”

“Stacey, what the fuck happened to ya?” She sits up and strokes her hand over her face.

“Cliff.” She calls his name across the room like I ain’t even here.

“Stacey, are you fuckin’ high?” I look at the syringe that’s on the table, and the spoon that’s still got residue on it. This ain’t the kinda drugs we do around here.

“What the fuck you doing here, Raze?” She strokes her head as if it’s hurting and sounds more disappointed than surprised.

“I got parole, Now, how about you tell me what the fuck’s goin’ on?”

“Cliff!” she calls out again.

“Ahhh, Raze.” My president steps outta his office with a grin on his face. “I wasn’t expectin’ ya back so early.”

“What the fuck has happened here?” I look from him back to her, feeling all my rage starting to make its way to the surface. I left behind a woman who rolled her eyes at me for smoking a cigarette. I’ve come home to what looks a lot like a fuckin’ junkie.

“Baby, is it time for another hit?” Stacey looks up at Cliff as if she’s going to cry and he rests beside her and smoothes his hand through her hair.

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