Page 9 of Savage Spades

It took him a moment to recognize his sister’s voice because he hadn’t heard it in so long.

“Megan?” he asked. His heart beat faster. It had been so long since he’d seen her last. She was always in the back of his mind. He never knew if she was even alive or dead.

“Yeah… I’m…um...close to Goldbeach.”

“Where at?” he asked. If she were asking for a ride from a sketchy part of town, he’d hang up right now.

“At the airport… I was hoping you’d give your little sister a ride?”

“I’m on my way.” He hung up the phone and grabbed his truck keys that hung on the hook next to the desk. “I’ll be right back,” he hollered at Jett, not waiting for his reply before walking out the door and getting into his truck.

He always kept it parked next to the garage because he rarely used it, but he wasn’t sure what sort of state Megan was going to be in. He pulled out of the parking area of the clubhouse and onto the street. The airport was an hour drive from town, so he had plenty of time to calm his nerves.

Both he and Megan had grown up in Goldbeach but Megan took their upbringing much harder than he had. While he’d found the Savage Spades, Megan found drugs. It was an ongoing battle. Over the years, she’d stolen from him and taken advantage of every situation. She would say she was clean, but she never was. Four years ago, she moved out to California to be with whatever guy she was dating, and all contact between them stopped. So why was she here now? After all this time? He gripped the wheel tighter as he approached the highway. He could have asked her over the phone, but it was better to save his questions until he saw her in person. He turned up the radio to drown out his thoughts and continued his drive.

*****“Are you clean?” he asked an hour later as she stood next to the passenger side of his truck and tried to open the locked door. Her once, full cheeks were now hollowed out, but at least she looked alert. Her hair was brushed back in a neat ponytail and not greasy and stringy like when she was on one of her benders.

“Yes, I’m clean. Open the damn door, Kit.” She pulled the handle again and let out a breath.

“How long?” he asked through the open window.

“One hundred and eighty-five days and counting.”

He pressed the unlock button, and she opened the door. She had a large bag over her shoulder that she threw inside before climbing into the truck. The minute she was inside, she pulled him in for a hug. He wanted to pull away from her and be stern, but he couldn’t. Not when it’d been so long. She smelled like fresh soap and not like a crack house. Her body felt thin and fragile in his arms, and he was scared if he hugged too tight, he might break her. They hugged until the car behind him honked. She pulled away first and wiped a tear from her eyes.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too; let’s get some food.”

*****

They sat on a picnic table outside the BBQ joint. Megan wasn’t scarfing down her food like she would if she’d been on a bender. Wherever she’s been staying, they must be feeding her. Maybe she really was sober this time.

“What happened? Why are you back here?” he asked, finally cutting to the chase.

She set her pulled pork sandwich down and wiped her face.

“You can’t just be happy to see your little sis?” she joked.

He narrowed his eyes at her.

“Fine, but it’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

She let out a sigh and propped her elbows on the table. “When I left here, I moved in with Ricky--”

“That douchebag you were seeing?” he asked. He hadn’t bothered to remember the guy’s name at the time because it hadn’t mattered. Kit had been happy to get Megan out of his hair at that point.

“Yeah, we lived together in California…and did a lot of drugs. We had our problems. I got arrested a few times. Ricky was an asshole most of the time.”

“Did he put his hands on you?” Kit asked. His jaw clenched at just the thought. He hated to think his sister had put herself in that sort of situation.

“It’s over, Kit. There’s no reason to be mad now.”

He scoffed. He had plenty of reasons to be mad. Years of anger still coursed through his veins. He’d be more than happy to take that anger out on someone who hurt his sister.

“Anyways, one night, me and Ricky had some friends over to the apartment. We were having a good time but I guess I took too much. I don’t really remember anything after that besides waking up in a hospital bed. The nurses told me he’d dumped me right outside the doors. Fuck face didn’t even come inside to make sure I didn’t die.” She shook her head and took a drink of her lemonade before continuing. “I was alone in a hospital bed, and the man I’d spent the last four years with didn’t even care. No one was there. I was by myself. I knew once I was discharged, I couldn’t go back to the apartment. What was I supposed to say to him? Anyways, the nurses talked to me about a treatment center. Apparently, I qualified for federal assistance so I could go for free. The first month was the hardest but after that, I started to feel like myself again. I was at the treatment center for three months, then I went to a halfway house. Now, I’m here. I want to find a job. Get on my feet. But the treatment center told me I need a support system…you’re the only person I could think of.”

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