Page 7 of Nothing to Lose: Lost Trilogy: Part 1
When my eyes fall onto something glistening in the grass, my suspicions are confirmed.
I’ve been shot at.
Someone tried to kill me right here and now, on the campus at my college. There is no question in my mind that this was no accident. I would lay money it wasn’t. Just as I would on the one name I suspect of being responsible for it. Not that he would do it personally, but he knows shady people.
Uncle Kenny tried to have me killed.
On the eve of my twenty-first birthday, only hours away from gaining ownership of the trust fund my father left for me.
Houston, we have a problem.
3
Lucas
Getting backto my apartment was nothing short of a one-man unit military operation. So intense, I thought I’d have a heart attack and drop dead. But I fought through the panic attack, because I’d be damned if I gave Kenneth Luther Adams the Third the satisfaction of knowing he won.
Now, I am staring at the hockey puck that saved my life.It saved my life. It truly is my lucky puck. Holy fuck, I could kiss Bran if he was here right now.
I start pacing back and forth, unsure of who to go to for help. The lawyer who’s supposed to help me with my legal papers wouldn’t know what to do with something like this.
Should I call the police?
While I’m sure most people would do exactly that, I have reservations. Something tells me that if I did that, I would just make the situation worse.
Something my mother told me when she called earlier pops into my head all of a sudden. She told me that if I needed help, I should go to Bricks, a biker from Austin. Why would she tell me that today out of all days? Why would she tell me that at all?
“Fuck it all to hell!” I scream at the ceiling.
In a moment of clarity, my eyes fall to my laptop. I rush to it and get the internet browser up. I need to focus and try to get on the dark web undetected.
My fingers fly over the keyboard as they furiously type away until I get to the screen I’m looking for.
I am decent on the computer, but I never purposely tried to do anything illegal. This will be a true test to my sort of rusty skills.
LuckyDuck: looking for Bricks mc
I post the message and wait. I know that chances of me getting a response right away are slim to none, but one can hope. My knees bounce in place as I stare at the screen, the cursor blinking on the screen in a hypnotic move.
All of a sudden, a ding comes from the computer. I need a minute to focus and read what the response to my request says.
TallDude: bricks who
Why would they even respond if they don’t know who I’m asking about? But then I wonder if this is a test. Fuck, I’m so not good at any of this bullshit.
LuckyDuck: Bricks, president of MC outside of Austin. Message from Elaine Adams
For a fleeting second, I wonder if I gave them too much information. Then again, fuck it all to hell. What am I supposed to do? Thank fuck I even know how to get on the dark web. If not, how would I have even gotten to this point this fast?
No response comes, not as fast as the first one. I stand up to stretch my back, the pain in my chest reminding me of this afternoon’s adventures.
I have a bruise in the shape of a circle about the size of the puck I had in my chest pocket. It’s been turning progressively darker over the last few hours, and it hurts like a motherfucker.
Noise from the hallway outside my door makes my heart jump in my throat. My anxiety levels are through the roof right now. If my uncle tried to have me killed, he should know by now that the attempt was unsuccessful.
A glance at the clock on my laptop shows that we are fifteen minutes away from midnight. My life will finally change for the better in fifteen minutes.
Sweat breaks down my back, making me shiver even though it’s warm in the apartment. Fifteen minutes. That’s all I need, I think to myself.
