Page 48 of Being Lost

“Hey, wait up.”

Angrily, I paused. Hadn’t he ruined my life enough for one day? Or, to be more precise, my death.

“Get on your bike and follow me.”

I was about to tell him to get lost, when I realised, for the first time in weeks, months, maybe, someone was giving me a direction in which to head.

I laughed, mirthlessly. “Don’t know what destination you’ve got in mind, but doubt I’ll get there.” I tapped my tank. “No gas.”

“Gas station ‘bout a mile away.”

Wishing I could swallow the bile that rose with my admission, I said tersely, “No money.”

“Take it as an advance.”

I looked at him as if he’d gone mad.

For the hundredth time, he shrugged. “Prospects don’t get much. They get a place to sleep, food to eat. Have to do all the shit jobs. Of course, we’ll need to check you out first, but if you pass and will give everything you’ve got to the club, we’ll have your back.” His face grew serious and stern. “You’ve gotta be prepared to die for the club man, but hey, you were prepared to do that for less.” Another expression change, this time to a grin. “Well, Lost, what have you got to lose?”

“Lost?”

“Never seen a man looking more fuckin’ lost before. Guess you’ve picked up a road name already.”

I owed everything to Snake from that point on. While I didn’t know it right then, he’d given me a reason to live, and I repaid him by giving my all to the club. I’d lost everything that was important to me, but thanks to him, I did find something worth dying for. Brothers who had my back which, in turn, restored my desire for life.

Raising the bottle to my lips again, feeling the burn of the liquor smoothing its way down my throat, I muse. It hadn’t bothered Snake at all that day. As I’d come to know him, I’d realised he’d have watched me walk into that ocean without lifting a finger to save me. That cigarette would have been smoked down to the stub as he’d watched me drown, just like a rat in a science experiment.

Had he set me up from that day?

No. I’ve thought about it a lot. He’d known nothing about me then. But as he came to know my history, he knew I’d be useful to him. When the Prez had died five years back, Snake had taken his place, and I’d become his perfect patsy as VP.

And, as always, I’d fucked up.

My only excuse in not seeing Snake had gone bad was down to how much I owed him. I hadn’t consciously turned a blind eye, but certainly hadn’t lifted the carpet to see what might have been swept underneath. I’d given the man my complete trust, probably influenced that he, a decade and a half earlier, had breathed life back into me. I’d trusted him, not knowing I was putting my faith in the wrong man.

When Snake had turned against the club, I’d been one of the last people to believe it.

Chapter Sixteen

Lost

After finishing what was left in the bottle, I had fallen into an alcohol-induced and thankfully dreamless sleep.

I’m woken by a loud banging on the door, and someone trying the handle.Won’t work. I locked it last night.

Why?

Christ. I groan as the events of yesterday come back into my head, and the memory of how much I fucked up with Patsy.Gotta apologise.Yeah, give her the old ‘it’s not you it’s me’ talk.

“Lost, Brother, you there?” The doorknob rattles again.

I swing my legs off the bed.Fuck, my head hurts.With a glare toward the whisky bottle as though it’s its fault I drank it, I lurch to the door, then when it’s open, lean against the frame.

“Wow, Brother.” Dart steps back, wafting the air away with his hand. “Laid one on last night, didn’t you? You fuckin’ reek.”

I glance down at my t-shirt where most of the spilled whisky landed. “Too much, yeah, but not as much as you’re thinking. I’m wearing most of it.”

Dart chuckles. “Thank fuck. Look, grab a fresh shirt and come downstairs. Token’s got Demon on a secure line. Patsy’s chomping at the bit to talk to Beth, but Demon wanted to speak to us first.”

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