Page 97 of Sugar and Skulls

“Jesse, baby, tell me where you are.”

A sob escapes, releasing a torrent of emotion with it.

“Sweetheart tell me where you are. I’ll come get you.” Panic rises in his voice. “Your dad is here. He isn’t mad, Jesse. Please come home.”

My dad gets on the phone. “Jesse, baby girl. You need to tell us where you’re at.”

“Is he…” I let my words trail. I can’t say it.

“He needs you, Jesse.”

I can tell by his tone that Raffe is in grave condition.

“Goddammit, Jesse. Tell me where you are.”

When I don’t answer he hands the phone back to Dirk. I hear him mumble something about me being stubborn.

“Jesse, if you want to help Raffe tell me where the fuck you are.”

“Are you at the hospital?”

“Yes, we’re all here. Everyone but you.”

Good. Perfect.

“Keep everyone there.”

“Jesse,” he warns.

I tap the steering wheel, trying to rein in my emotions. The desert sun dips behind the mountains. I don’t know if Raffe is going to pull through. This might be his last day on this earth. No matter how hard I try to ask about his condition I can’t seem to find the right words.

“I know what you’re thinking, Jesse. But, this isn’t your fight.”

“No?”

“No. We do this as a club.” His gravelly voice demands I obey but sometimes you have to be mean.

“Fuck you, Dirk. Just fuck you.”

I hang up.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Jesse

???

Ialways wondered why other kids were afraid of the dark. The dark is nothing to fear. It’s what lurks there that you should fear. I tap the cigarettes I bought on the kitchen table. The flick of the lighter briefly illuminates the room. Seems Renee has been able to keep the place somewhat clean since I left.

The sound of a bike pulling up outside spurs a tingle of excitement in my muscles. The weight of my 380 pulls on the back of my leather pants as I take a long drag blowing it out slowly. The minute Jimmy opens the door he sniffs the air, freezing in his tracks.

His head slowly turns towards me. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Sugar. How the hell have you been?” He flips the light on, taking his time molesting me with his eyes.

“Never better.” I kick the chair out across from me. He laughs and plops his ass down, setting his gun on the table in front of him.

“Care if I bum a smoke?” he asks, his eyes dancing with amusement.

I flick my pack sending it sliding across the table. “So, what brings you back to Trap?”

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