Page 1 of Pit Stop

Prologue

Tillman

This is the story about a poor boy who came from nothing and ended up with everything he could have dreamed of and more. At least until everything came to a screeching halt. This boy believed his entire world was over within the blink of an eye, just like most would in the situation, but in reality, it was just the beginning. He was on a journey to lead him to the one thing he never knew he needed. The one thing he didn’t even believe in... love. I’m that boy, everyone calls me Tillman, and this is my story about how one pure heart can save the cynical, lost boy in his lonely world.

There are certain things in life that you can learn from an early age. Not everyone will have to learn this, to suffer at the hands of those who are supposed to love them unconditionally; but for those of us that do...we know that we can only truly depend on ourselves. No matter what anyone says, at the end of the day, it’s just you. Words are just words; beautiful little lies tied up in pretty packages to give you hope. After enough of those pretty little packages, they turn back into their original pumpkin at midnight and you’re left with the evil replacement family. You learn words don’t mean shit.

Of course, some people will say there are always actions. Actions speak louder than words and that’s true, they do, but actions can change. They can also be misleading. Take biological parents for example... once upon a time my dad loved my mom enough to propose to her and even have a kid. However, that action was short-lived because it became evident really quickly that he liked drugs, alcohol, friends, and other women just as much. My mother busted her ass for nine years to make ends meet while my dad did whatever the hell he wanted with whoever the hell he wanted—until my mom finally put her foot down. Wrong thing to do, especially with my dad in such an altered state. One punch after another and the next thing you know blood splatters the walls, soaks and stains the carpet, cops are called, your mother is pronounced dead, your father is arrested, thrown behind bars for life, and you are thrown into the system.

Being tossed from house to house was the least of my worries. Most nights I didn’t sleep under those roofs. I found myself tied up into a very illegal world and the only person who cared enough to notice was my best friend, Axell James. Axell came from a family that didn’t have a lot as far as material things, but it was so damn full of love that they could have had a TV show based on them. His parents always offered me a place to stay and food to eat, but I’d always decline. They had enough to worry about with five growing boys. His parents didn’t realize that I just loved being in the atmosphere of a home, to see how a real family worked.

By the time we got into high school I was even deeper into the world of betting, gambling, and racing. Axell was drawn to racing like his father, but the rest didn’t mean much to him. There was an underground group, The Street Kings. They controlled a large portion of the street and drag racing that went on in and around Los Angeles, as well as illegal fighting rings, clubs and backdoor gambling, and makeshift casinos. I worked for them in exchange for a good amount of money and a place to sleep. Mostly I took care of dirty work. I was taller and buffer than almost every guy my age. Making sure the bets were set and money was delivered to the right people was my main job. However, once I got old enough to race, my eyes were on the prize. Not having a car though put a halt to that. At least until one of the racers who had promised a pink slip to his car to the winner thought he could outrun The Street Kings or the SK as we were often known. I was able to get the car, outrun the police who were apparently tipped off and showed up to bust all of us, and deliver the car unscratched. Emmet was so impressed, he gave me the car as long as I drove like that for every race that was held. He’d give me half of the winnings.

Over the next two and a half years, I brought in more cash than most dream of. Lucky wasn’t how I saw it. Hard work and risk were involved to make it happen. By the time I was eighteen I had enough money to buy myself a house in Orange County. I was living the high life. Races, parties, women, and money were at my feet. No one knew the poor kid whose dad beat his mom to death. All they knew was that Tillman was someone you didn’t cross, on or off the streets.

It’s funny, looking back, I can actually pick moments out of my life that were those defining moments. Moments that led me to where I am right now. If I had to do it over again I probably would, but I would still be the same miserable son of a bitch stuck, looking out the window of my multi-million-dollar home with more cars than anyone needs, asking over and over,why me?

I didn’t know it then, but I’d find out soon enough. I guess I need to start from the beginning for you to fully understand.

---