Page 10 of Spike

“The processingfor your release is now complete. Please sign here for your personal effects,which you may pick up on the silver table once I’ve released you.”

I scribbled out mysignature and she spoke the words I’d been waiting to hear for four years, twomonths, and twelve days.

“Mr. Kane. You arefree to go. Sergeant Hopper will escort you out. Have a good day, a good life,and please don’t come back.”

“No, ma’am, Idon’t intend to.”

Hopper and Iwalked outside where he addressed me one last time, “Look, Kane. I think you’rea good kid who managed to step into a pile of real deep shit. Don’t let thisbad start to your young life define who you are. Do you understand what I’msayin’ to ya?”

“Yes, sir. I do.”

“Do something goodwith your life. Show those rich assholes who railroaded you that they werewrong. And don’t let those bastards try to grind you down again.”

“Thank you, sir. Iappreciate it.”

“Someone coming topick you up?” He asked, looking around.

“No, but there wasan envelope with three dollars in quarters for the payphones outside in myrelease packet. I’ve got friends in the area that I can call.”

“Alright, then,”Hopper said, patting my shoulder, “Good luck to you, Spike.”

And then I wasalone. For the first time in over four years, I was alone, and it felt amazing…for about seventeen seconds, then came panic, mixed with fear and dread. I’dlied to Hopper. I knew absolutely no one in this area. In fact, I knewabsolutely no one in any area. I had no family, no friends, no money, no job,no place to stay, and no way to get there if I did.

I started goingthrough my mental list of options of how to obtain money, food, and lodging.

1.Man Whore –Qualifications: I’m young, fresh outta prison fit, and swing a decent meathammer. Pros: Get paid to fuck rich desperate housewives. Cons: You’ll actuallybe giving blowjobs in the Portland airport bathrooms. Verdict: Best to pass andleave that position open for someone with a true passion for it.

2.Life Coach -Qualifications: None, but that hasn’t seemed to stop anyone else in the pastfrom becoming one. Pros: Get paid to fuck rich desperate housewives. Cons: I’dhave to wear a man bun and sign up for Twitter. Verdict: Hard Pass

3.Barista – thisjust feels like I’m saying life coach again, so I’ll skip to number—

Before I couldthink of the next possible career path, my thoughts were interrupted by theroar of exhaust pipes. I turned to see a primo black and orange Plymouth RoadRunner Superbird pull up to the curb in front of me. The driver got out. “YouKane?”

I gave him a chinlift. “Who’s asking?”

“My name’s Ropesand I’ve been sent here to pick up a kid named Jesse Kane.”

“Sent by who?”

“The President ofmy club, the Burning Saints. A man named Cutter.”

I shook my head.“Don’t know anyone by that name.”

“Yeah, well heknows you. Knows your dad, at least.”

“Bullshit,” Isaid.

“Your old man isKodiak, a nomad who used to ride with the Apex Predators way back in the day.”

“I wouldn’t know.I’ve never met him.”

“Your mom nevermentioned him?”

“Don’t fuckingtalk about my mother,” I said, throwing my shit down and moving towards him. “Idon’t fucking know you, man, so don’t say shit about my mother.”

Ropes put hishands in the air and turned his head to the side. A sign of respectfulsubmission. “No disrespect to you or your family.”

“What the fuck areyou doing here?”

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