Page 10 of Hellraiser

“That’s wassup. Not too many people are willing to do that. Nowadays, it’s all that microwave media shit—comes in fast and hot, then the next day, it’s gone.”

I nodded in agreement, appreciating his insight. “What about you? What made you join the Hell’s Savages?”

Dre hesitated, then sighed.

“Family,” he answered simply. “My father’s the leader, and I’m his vice president. Besides that, it’s all I’ve ever known. It’s not always easy, but it’s my life.”

As we sat in the back of his black pickup truck, I felt an unexpected connection growing between us, understanding the pressures we both faced, although on opposite sides of the law.

“You said your father’s your leader, right? What was it like growing up in a motorcycle club?”

He leaned back, staring at the sky as he considered his answer.

“There’s a lot of loyalty, a lot of brotherhood. But there’s also a lot of responsibility and pressure to live up to the club’s expectations. My father’s always been tough on me, but it’s because he wants me to be strong.”

“Ah, hence why you need a quiet place to come and clear your mind,” I stated, concluding on my own. “You ever wish you could do something else?”

Dre chuckled, a dazzle of curiosity in his gray orbs. “Nah. The club is my family. I could never walk away from that.”

“What’s next for you in the club then? You’re already the second in command. Any dreams or goals to take the throne?”

Dre shrugged his muscular shoulders.

“Honestly, I haven’t thought much about it. I’m so focused on the here and now, making sure I’m doing right by my brothers and my father. But maybe one day, if it came down to it, I’d take the reins.”

I leaned my head back against the truck’s back window. The serenity of the moment calmed my nerves. I felt a pang of admiration for Dre, ready and willing to fill his father’s shoes if and when the time came. At least he had set goals for himself. I didn’t know what the fuck my plan B would be if I didn’t keep my job.

I couldn’t stop my thoughts from drifting back to the weight bearing down on my shoulders. The possibility of losing my career, not just my job, was the elephant in the room I couldn’t disregard.

“What’s next for you if you get fired?” Dre questioned as if he had the power to read my thoughts.

A loud sigh escaped my lips, my mind still racing with doubt.

My shoulders rose and fell. “I honestly don’t know. My journalism career means everything to me. It’s not just about the paycheck, y’know? If I lose it, I’ll have no choice but to figure out a new path. Maybe I can do some freelance work while I try to find another permanent position. But it’s fucking tough out there. Jobs in my field aren’t that easy to come by.”

Dre listened, his expression empathetic.

“I can tell you’re passionate about what you do. Even if shit doesn’t work out with your current job, I know you’ll find another way to make an impact on the world.”

“Thanks. I just gotta stay focused and pray everything works out for my good. This story is my chance to prove… a lot.”

“To who?”

“To everybody. Myself included.”

“Why? What’s in it for you if all this goes public?”

I sighed, shoulders slumping as if I had anchors tied to my arms. “It’s probably going to sound crazy.”

“Try me.”

“Secondhand justice.”

His eyebrows pulled together. “What the fuck is secondhand justice?”

“Years ago, back when I was a sophomore in high school, I was sexually assaulted by my English teacher.”

His jaw clenched. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

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