Page 1 of Shame

Chapter One

Kaison

The shotgun blast echoes around the empty field, and I shake my head. This motherfucker is gonna hurt someone someday. Not that he’d give a shit about any of that. His mama would, though.

“Yo, Ed!” I shout, cupping my hands around my mouth. “It’s Shark!”

A high-pitched laugh sounds from behind me. I turn and rush through the clusters of trees to look for the asshole who thinks this is a big fucking game. Fucker is lucky his mama is a friend of the club, or he’d have gone missing a long time ago.

Another blast rings out, and I duck on instinct, shielding my head with my arms. Birds scatter, squawking as they fly off to safety. Only an idiot would be out here, chasing after this fool. A smart man would let him kill himself and be done with it. Never been told I’m the smartest guy in the bunch,so I guess that’s why I’m out here a few times a month saving this guy’s hide.

All for his mama,I tell myself.I’m doing it for his mama.

“Ed, you fucking cocksucker piece of horseshit!” I bellow, moving deeper into the woods.

He’s laughing again, and I follow the annoying sound until I see his stupid ass sitting against a tree. Butt ass naked. Dark hair an oily disgusting mess. Shot gun in one hand, near-empty handle of moonshine in the other.

With a growl, I storm over to him, snatch the gun, and slap him upside the head.

“The fuck are you doing, dumbass?”

“Gimme that back, you no-good baboon!” He leans forward to grab the gun from me, but I hold it away and step back. This fool can try to get the gun from me; hell, he probably will, but he ain’t gonna get it. He’s too short; too fucking slow too.

“You trying to kill someone?” I shout.

“Naw, I’m just having fun,” he says with a grin before drinking from the bottle of shine like it’s fucking tap water. I gag as I watch his throat bob, gulp after gulp. How the fuck his liver still works is a mystery.

“Get your ass up, Ed. I’m taking you home.”

“I’m not going home. It’s not even bedtime,” he whines. “Sun’s still up!”

“No shit. It’s eight in the morning. You missed bedtime.”

I nudge him with my boot, and with a groan, he gets to his feet, muttering something under his breath about not beingallowed to have any fun. Fool has leaves and twigs stuck to his balls and doesn’t even care. I roll my eyes as I empty the gun, then shove it between my legs to hold while I pull off my shirt and hand it to Ed. He’s much smaller than me. About ten years older, too. When he puts the shirt on, it’s down to his knees. Thank god for that.

The walk back to his house takes forever because he keeps spinning in circles, trying to go in the wrong damn direction. He’s fully capable of finding home. There’s nothing wrong with him other than being a stupid drunk who can’t get his shit together. He knows these woods better than most, since he spends most of his time out here. It’s only a few times a month when he gets so drunk his mama is calling us to go find him ‘cause he didn’t come home. Could be worse, I guess. Still, there’s better shit, more important shit, I could be doing than saving his ass.

Finally, we make it out of the trees and the top of his house peeks out over the hill. I bang on the rickety screen door before pulling it open. Martha, Ed’s mother, comes thumping down the stairs, titties swinging every which way because she doesn’t believe in bras. Or maybe she can’t find one big enough. I don’t fucking know. If she were thirty years younger, maybe I’d enjoy the show, but I’m not into grandmas or gumjobs or getting knocked out by a wild titty.

“Oh goodness, Ed! I’m so glad you’re okay.” She pulls him into her arms, hugging him tightly to her chest. “Thank you, Shark.” Tears pour down her face, and if I didn’t know her, I’d think it was all a show, but for some reason, she loves Ed morethan anything. Maybe ‘cause he’s her son, but damn… there’s gotta be limits, right? Like your kid can only do so much before you start feeling some type of way? Don’t have any kids of my own, so I guess I can’t really say. But if Ed were my kid, he’d get his ass kicked for sure.

I used to feel bad for her, until I learned she babies the fuck outta him and it’s the only reason he acts like this in the first place. No wonder he’s a spoiled brat. A forty-something year old man who acts like a thirteen-year-old boy. Ridiculous.

“I’m fine, Mama. Leave me be,” he says, shoving her away, but she holds him tighter. He groans and gives up the fight.

I hold the shotgun up. “I’m taking this.” I point at Ed. “And if I find out you got another one, there’s gonna be a problem.”

“He won’t do no such thing,” Martha says, petting Ed like he’s a damn dog. She should be giving him a bath; he stinks to high heavens. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yeah, sure, Mama.” He gets out of her grip and takes another swig of the moonshine, then burps. I smell the stench from here, some ten feet away. Pretty sure he makes the shit himself, so you know it tastes like straight up ass. Hell, I bet dirty ass tastes better than that shit. Ed heads for the stairs, bumping into the walls as he goes. Martha watches with worry, hand covering her mouth.

“He’s gonna get himself into some serious trouble if you don’t keep an eye on him,” I tell her.

“I don’t know what to do anymore, Shark. He’s unmanageable.”

“Maybe you should try treating him like the grown ass man he is, instead of a fucking kid.”

A sob leaves her as I push through the door. It snaps back once I’m halfway down the steps. Once at my bike, I grab my cut and put it on before securing the gun and hopping on my Indian Chief Dark Horse with a smooth, black matte finish. Stealthy, aggressive, and built like a damn tank. Best bike I’ve ever had.

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