Page 35 of Parrish

“Jesus Christ, Uncle Jack, way to scare the fuck out of someone.”

Tearing my eyes away from the deserted street, I turn to find Nico sitting on my front porch. Rubbing his eyes, he scrambles to his feet and my gaze narrows in confusion.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he replies, stretching his arms over his head as he yawns. Ignoring the fact that the kid is sleeping on my doorstep, I turn around and face the street.

“Did you see which way the car went?”

“What car?”

Gritting my teeth, I glare at Wolf’s son who in turn is looking at me like I just told him the fucking sky is purple.

“There was a car parked right there,” I say, pointing the bat towards the curb. “You would’ve seen it if you weren’t fucking sleeping on my stoop.”

“Uncle Jack, I wasn’t sleeping,” he argues, taking a step towards me. “I’ve been here for six hours and I didn’t see no car,” he says. “Well, aside from the two pigs. They must’ve gone on a donut run or whatever the fuck it is those crime busters do in the wee hours of the morning.”

Losing my patience, I grab a hold of his kutte with one hand and shove the base of the bat against his throat with the other.

“You calling me a fucking liar?” I growl. His eyes go wide as saucers as he shakes his head.

“Nah, Uncle Jack. I ain’t calling you a liar,” he stammers. Lifting his hand, he grabs my wrist and tries to pry my fingers off the bat. My grip tightens, and I wedge the bat deeper into the crook of his neck.

“So, if I’m not a fucking liar then I must be crazy, right? Good ‘ol Uncle Jack has finally lost his mind and is hallucinating now.”

“I didn’t say that,” he croaks.

“There was a fucking car there,” I insist. “I swear on my dead son’s soul, I saw a car.”

My voice cracks and for a moment I stare at him, but I don’t see a man. I remember the little boy who once ran around the clubhouse with my daughter. The boy I would lift onto my shoulders when the ice cream truck came to the compound. Realizing I’m choking him, I draw the bat away from his neck and take a step back.

Instinctively Nico draws in a deep breath and lifts his hand to his neck. Shame envelopes me and I quickly tear my eyes away from the kid.

“I saw a car,” I rasp, starring at the vacant street.

Didn’t I?

Suddenly the pounding headache I was battling earlier returns and my vision blurs. Nico touches a hand to my shoulder. Startled, I fight for focus. I think about the headlights in the parking lot and the way those same headlights blinded me as I peered out the window. The bat falls from my hand and I struggle to make sense of what Nico is saying but his voice sounds as if it’s ions away.

He steps around me and while his lips continue to move, his words fall upon deaf ears as I stare at the bruises forming on his neck. Furious with myself and my fucking actions, I rub my face and shake my head.

“Uncle Jack, are you listening to me?” Nico questions and I peer at him through my spread fingers covering my face.

“There was a car,” I mutter, dropping my hands.

“Okay,” he says calmly. “Maybe I missed it.”

I know he’s pacifying me, that he didn’t see the car, but I’m too tired to argue anymore. Not with him and certainly not with my fucked up mind.

“The sun will be coming up in a little while,” he continues. “Why don’t you go back in the house and try to get some sleep. I’m going to stay out here and if the car comes back, I’ll be sure to grab the license plate number or something.”

Relenting, I give him a curt nod and glance at the street one last time before narrowing my eyes at him.

“What are you even doing here?” I ask hoarsely.

“My old man wanted someone here in case you needed anything. Him and the rest of the club will be here to ride with you to Ritzer’s office and I’ll stay here with Reina and Danny. If she’s not up to taking him to school, I’ll take him—whatever you guys need.”

My shoulders slump at his words and I point a finger to his bruising neck.

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