Page 17 of Acid

As we drove away to Lizzie’s diner, she stood there watching us leave. As we pulled up, Lizzie is there with her doors open, dressed in just her dressing gown.

Ghost walks ahead, leading the way. “Thanks for this, sweetheart,” he says as he walks in.

“For you guys, anything,” she states.

I stop in front of her, and she looks at me and smiles. “Hey, darlin’,” I greet her.

“Well, well, I had almost forgotten what you look like. Glad you’re back,” she replies.

I walk in and take a seat around the table. Lizzie takes herself off to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

“What the fuck happened?” Hawk asks.

“I don’t know, but if the guy is dead, I want his thumb,” Rage states. We all pause to look at him. “What? He had really long fingers and a thumb to the point where it’s abnormal. So that makes them a collectable,” he adds.

I shake my head. “Spider lost it,” I state, changing the subject. “The Terminator knew a lot about him and the club.”

Ghost nods. “He knew Nova’s name, he knew Spider and Acid had come from the Quade House, and he threatened to rape Nova. That’s what tipped him over the edge,” Ghost explains. “We need to find which hospital the Terminator is in and press him for information, because it makes fuck all sense how some cunt from Austria can know that kind of information,” Ghost seethes.

“Here you go, boys,” Lizzie sings cheerfully as she brings over a tray of mugs and a pot of coffee and places it on the table.

“Thanks, darlin’.” Ghost nods.

She smiles and nods before walking back off to the kitchen with no questions asked. She’s never tried to pry for information, and she always respects the club and our rules. Not many citizens do that. Fuck, there aren’t that many ol’ ladies that even fucking do that. I’m almost surprised that Star hasn’t orchestrated a stakeout right now and they are all watching us right now.

Ghost’s cell pings and we all watch as he pulls it out of his pocket and reads the message. He places his cell down on the table before he leans forward and pours himself a coffee. “That was Nova. They are both home. Spider has calmed down,” he states.

I pour myself a coffee and take a sip. “Tomorrow I will go visit Spider and get see exactly what was said. Then we can go pay Terminator a visit in hospital,” I suggest. Ghost nods.

“I volunteer to go to the hospital,” Rage offers.

“Why is that, Rage? You going to cut the fuckers toe off or go window shopping in the mortuary?” Hawk asks.

Rage shrugs, not answering.

Ghost pinches the bridge of his nose. “Rage, when we go to the hospital, we go inconspicuously. That means you will not be walking out of there with a cart full of fucking body parts.” Ghost’s cell pings and he looks down, a smile playing on his lips. “Let’s finish up here and get home. My woman is waiting,” he states before downing the last of his coffee.

We stick around for a few minutes longer before heading off, going our separate ways. I ride the longer way back to the club, using the quiet night and the open road to be alone with my thoughts. I’m not used to seeing Spider triggered by his past, or our past. The only exception was my sister. For him, that was like seeing a ghost. Like me, he had buried the past. Trying to go over it or process it just awakened a searing ball of anguish within us. So, when someone turns up, apparently knowing the things we had long buried, I can’t stop my mind from going there.

I come to a stop and look around, realising that I’ve somehow rode to the Quade House. I sit there in the pitch black blanket of darkness with only the headlight from my bike, staring up at the crumbling shell of the place that fucked me up in more ways than I could ever imagine. From being abused at home, the one place you are supposed to feel safe as a kid, to being sent here... Hell, even that day when there was hope; that tiny bit of hope that Amora was taking over the home was gone within a second. Acid and I never spoke of that time. We didn’t stick around long enough for it to get worse. It went from the guardsusing us, controlling us, fuck, even raping us, to a full blown fucking teenage sociopath. She manipulated and used extreme violence to get what she wanted. I’ve never seen someone be able to coerce another to remove their own nails, but she did. The kids that stayed truly believed in her, like she was some fucking saviour. A god. She withheld our food if we did something she didn’t like, and she ruled that place like it was an entirely different world to the one outside the walls.

I shake my head, pushing those memories back to the dim recesses of my mind. Turning my bike around, I ride out of there. Once I return to the club, I notice that I’m the only one that’s come back here. Walking inside the club, I see a couple of prospects sat in the bar area looking at me with wide eyes, ready to pounce at any demand I give them. I continue to walk on through the club, only stopping when I’m outside Rhea’s room. I hold my hand above the door to knock, but I don’t, realising that she is probably asleep, and that Olly will be asleep in there, too. I rest my hand back down and turn to walk back to my room.

“Acid,” Rhea’s soft voice calls out to me.

I turn to face her. “Shit, sorry darlin’, I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep,” I tell her as she stands there in one of the club’s T-shirts and shorts.

She steps out of her room, pulling the door quietly closed behind her. She crosses her arms over her chest as she feels the chill. “I wasn’t asleep. I was sat up waiting to make sure you got back okay. When everyone else came back and you didn’t, I was worried,” she states.

“Everyone gone?” I ask.

She nods. “Yeah, Scar had a meeting with the twins apparently.” She smiles.

I roll my eyes. Rubbing the back of my neck, I look up to the ceiling and sigh. “It’s nothing. Go to sleep,” I assure her.

She raises her eyebrow at me. “Look, I know I don’t know you as well as your brothers, or even your best friend Spider, but I feel like I know you well enough now. Hell, you sure know everything about me, and you’ve done so much for me and for my son that if you need to talk, well I’m here,” she offers.

I stand there for a moment, unsure what to say. I ain’t a real share my thoughts kind of guy. “How do you feel about getting wasted?” I suggest.

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