Page 13 of Drowning

Startled, I nod as he quietly shuts the door behind him. Alone in my room, I took a deep breath and sank into my bed. After such a long day, the things that happened are still replaying in my head.

I lie there, tired, my eyes slowly closing as fatigue takes hold of me. I know there are still many unanswered questions and challenges ahead, but for the time being, I allow myself to drift off into a dreamless sleep, comforted by the knowledge that the ones who matter the most are only a phone call away.

six

South Side Bikers

S t o n e (22)

"Where the fuck is it, Kilo?" I seethed and pressed the muzzle of my Glock against his temple, enjoying watching him tremble like a fucking bitch. Ace and Eli rummage through his shithole apartment, which is typical for Southie.

Needles and crack pipes are fucking everywhere, and this motherfucker's eyes are large, black, and wild, most likely from hitting the crack pipe just before we broke through the door. Noticing how pissed the guys are getting, I press the gun harder against his head, switching the safety off so he knows I'm not here to fuck around.

"I'm going to ask you one more fucking time. Where. Is. The. Fucking. Money?" I get in his face, our noses touching, and fear flashes through his eyes.

"I... I don't have it, Stone," he manages to croak out in between sobs as he continues to shake like a fucking leaf.

"Well, you had it. You did the fucking run for my old man, and when he finds out you don't have his shit, he's not going to think twice about putting a fucking bullet into your skull." I look over at Ace, who raises his hands and shakes his head, still unable to find what we came for.

"It ain't here, man. We've turned this place upside down, and there's not a fucking cent," Eli roars, angry, irritated, and his mind occupied. "Call your father and see what he wants us to do."

"Watch him," I said, moving away from Kilo, who was tied to one of his kitchen table chairs, his face covered in bruises that had cut and bloodied my knuckles.

Stepping into the bedroom, I close the door, light a cigarette, and call my father while looking out the window at Boston's bright city lights illuminating the dark sky.

"What is it?"

"Kilo doesn't have your money. How do you want us to move forward?"

"Where exactly did he say it was? That's ten grand, Stone; it didn't just fucking disappear," he growls, extremely pissed off.

"He didn't. The fucker is high out of his mind. He can't remember shit, or he just doesn't want to tell me."

"Ask him again. If he doesn't answer, fucking kill him." He hangs up, leaving me heaving a sigh as I try to prepare myself for another kill.

It's not like it's my first one, but shit, each kill takes a fucking toll on me; it never gets easier.

I knew what I was signing up for when I begged my father at eighteen to let me into the SSB, but after I was initiated in, I realized I had no idea what the fuck I was actually signing up for. My father and Colt—Emerson and Eli's father—were once among the most feared men in Boston, and after Colt was murdered, my father became even more ruthless.

I puff heavily on my cigarette as I return to the crack den of a living room, my Glock still in my hand and my finger on the trigger. I stand behind Kilo, remaining silent as I nod to Eli.

"Where is the fucking money, Kilo? That's all we want to know," Eli tells him as he and Ace step back and to the side, out of the path of the blood spatter that's about to paint his crummy carpet.

"I told you, I don’t have—"

I press the gun against the back of his head and pull the trigger without blinking, blowing mentholated smoke into the open, bloody wound as his body slumps forward.

"I had an order," I explained, as the guys looked at me in shock.

They shrugged and wiped down everything they touched, even though they were wearing gloves, before we slipped back into the darkness, the warm air embracing us like a mother's hug.

We knew it would be a long night spent cleaning, disposing of evidence, and burying the body. But in the life of an SSB, it was just another day. There was always more work to do. This was our world, and we were the predators. And I was always prepared for the next hunt.

We walk a few blocks to where our bikes are parked, enjoying the summer breeze and the echo of multiple gunshots in the night.

"You all going to Nantasket tonight?" Swinging my leg over my bike, I ask.

"I still need to talk with Em about it, so we will probably ride up there tomorrow, but you can go tonight." Eli puts his helmet on and inserts his key into the ignition. "I'm going to Nova's tonight for a bit before I go home, so I'll see you bastards later." Ace and I watch him ride off into the night as the roar of his bike pierces my ears.

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