Page 24 of Wreckage of Me
“I want you to make sure everything is perfect for tomorrow. And at the designated time, I want you to leave with Sully and Puck,” I instruct him.
“But…”
That is obviously not what he thought I’d say, but I’m not done.
“You make sure Sugar leaves with you, but you don’t tell Bricks a word about it, you got it?”
“Yes!” Shortie jumps up from his seat, arms up above his head in celebration. “Thank you, Wrecker!”
“Don’t make me regret this, Shortie.”
“Never!” he promises, but I have the worst feeling about it.
If Shortie doesn’t come through for us, we’re fucked. All of us.
9
Wrecker
“Dude,”I grab Sully in a tight, but still manly, hug, feeling like I haven’t seen him in years. In actuality, it’s been a little over three weeks.
“Good to see you too, Wreck,” Sully chuckles but gives it to me right back.
“Ah, hell, we hugging now?” Puck’s voice echoes from the doorway.
I am so happy to see these guys, I have no idea what I’m going to do once this is all said and done. Where am I going to go? What am I going to do?
“Come here, fucker,” I grab him by the neck. “You know you missed me!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he waves me off, but his grin says otherwise.
We spend the next few moments patting each other’s backs, acting like fools, so happy to be reunited after weeks of no contact. These past months have been so hectic, with them trying to hold the fort down at the clubhouse, pretending to follow my father’s directives, and me on the sidelines, pretending to be in prison while trying to track my father’s bank accounts and all his other contacts.
“Gentlemen,” Devereaux decides to break our small party with his snobby all the way tone. “While I am clearly very excited for you to have come together again…”
“Clearly,” Puck coughs into his fist when he says that, bringing Devereaux’s attention to him, making the rest of us snort as we try to stop ourselves from bursting into laughter.
“You are here for a reason,” Devereaux continues speaking, his eyes never wavering from Puck’s. If he could set him on fire with his intense gaze, he totally would.
“Sir, yes, sir,” Puck decides that it’s a good idea to try Devereaux’s patience.
“Turn the screen on,” he jerks his chin at Malone just as I think he may punch Puck in the face.
The room falls completely quiet when the large TV screen attached to the wall comes to life. My breath hitches in my throat for a second when I see the familiar rooms at the clubhouse. I spent most of my childhood running up and down those hallways, then a huge part of my adulthood fucking the club whores inside those rooms.
“Is everything set?” Devereaux asks, then waits for Sully and Puck to confirm it.
“Yes, sir,” Sully responds, sounding a lot more subdued than Puck did earlier when he was mocking Devereaux.
“Is Shortie out?” I am surprised when Devereaux asks that. I know Shortie is his nephew, but I didn’t expect him to show any emotion toward him, just like he doesn’t show any emotion even when his daughter happens to be the subject of conversation.
“We all walked out together,” Puck confirms.
“Why didn’t he come here with you?” Fair question, I think to myself.
“He said he needed to grab something from his house,” Puck shrugs. “We had to sneak out,” he continues explaining. “Had to leave our bikes there. And speaking of that, you owe us big, fucker,” he points a finger right at Deveraux. “I love that bike. I’ll never be able to find another one like it.”
Devereaux’s eyes look dead when he turns his head to look at Puck.
