Page 15 of Greased

“I thought the bastard was playing tricks on me or some shit. Trying to toughen me up,” he scoffs, like something similar has happened before.

“Losing you is one of the hardest things that I’ve ever gone through. Just because you are technically my big sister doesn’t mean that I didn’t or don’t feel protective over you. I can’t get the image of seeing you hurt out of my head. For ten years I’ve had nightmares.”

I grab both of his hands and hold them in mine. Like by my touch alone that can somehow reassure him that I’m okay.

“It still scares me. I don’t know what I would do if you were taken from me again.” Emotion catches in Rhodes' voice.

“I don’t plan on being taken any time soon. Nor do I plan on letting these motherfuckers get the best of us. We’ve only just gotten our family back. While I don’t remember a single thing, I don’t plan on letting any of this go. No matter how wild all of this feels.”

“I’m just so fucking happy to have you back. Life was so lonely without you.”

“I feel the same way. I wish so much that I could remember what it was like back then. It might seem strange, but it was like something was missing from my life. Obviously, a big chunk of that was the fact I’mmissing a whole eight years of my life but it was more than that. But now with you both being here, it's like that hole is starting to mend.”

I smile up at my brother. It’s kind of strange to think that he is actually my baby brother. The man has stubble and is built like a brick shithouse. There is nothing child-like about him.

“I’m going to have to apologise in advance because I’m about to be a crazy overprotective brother. I’ve got ten years to make up for after all.”

We laugh together at his declaration. Knowing what I have learnt both from him and our parents, I can’t say that I’m surprised.

Rhodes has hardly left my side since we have come back into each other's lives. I would have thought it would have annoyed me, but I love his company. I’m more than happy to give him some leeway with the overprotective brother act because I can understand what it would have been like for him.

Yet another reason why I’m glad I don’t have the memories. It has been hard enough just knowing I did have him. I don’t know how I would have fared having remembered him. The thought makes me sick to my stomach at the thought of something happening to him now.

It’s only a few weeks but I know I would burn down the world if something happened to my family.

As we touch down in the United States, it's hard to believe that I’ve actually been here before. That I was born here. You wouldn’t be able to tell though. Both mine and mum’s accents are borderline bogan, a fact that both Dad and Rhodes aren’t shy about teasing us for. There have been plenty of light disagreements about how to pronounce certain words and what things are called. The look Rhodes gave mewhen I asked him if it would be good thong weather in California was priceless.

We all load into a blacked-out Chevrolet Suburban which I’ve been told is completely bomb-proof. Something that instantly had my eyebrows raising and questioning what the fuck I am doing here.

There are another two blacked out Suburbans both full of heavily guarded members of the Thunderbirds. If I thought the private jet was an indication as to the seriousness of the gang and the level of protection that both Dad and Rhodes ensured us would be provided, it was nothing on seeing just how heavily guarded we are.

Coming from Australia where this type of lifestyle seems like something that you could only see in the movies is quite the reality check. Guards carrying around AK-47’s and handguns on their hips like it's just a regular Tuesday. The sensible part of my brain is telling me that I should be shit scared of my new, or should I say old, life but the other part of my brain that doesn’t give a fuck is telling me that this is family. This is home.

The obvious respect and power my father holds over his gang radiates off him. The men all bow their heads as they all welcome us home and help us to unload off the plane. Majority of our belongings had to be shipped over with only bare essentials brought onto the plane. I just wished some of those belongings had included my bike. Apparently it's something I couldn't bring with me. Noah was all too happy to take it off my hands. At least I can trust him with it. Unlike Grace. Last time I let her ride my bike, it spent a month needing to be repaired.

We landed on a private airfield not too far from the Thunderbirds’ Clubhouse. Rhodes informed me that the airstrip is owned by the gang. Apparently, it makes it easier for shipments to come in.

I’m still waiting for the inner Karen to come out in me and demand that the drugs and guns stop. Yet I’ve seemed to just accept it. I’m still trying to work out if it's the part of me that is just accepting of this life or if one day it will all come crashing down on me.

Or if it's the fact that while the Thunderbirds do all this illegal shit, they are at least trying to make it safe. Ensuring that the weapons aren’t falling into children’s hands to be used against their peers, drugs are made clean and safe, so users know what they are actually getting. The sex trade is heavily policed with consenting workers that are paid fairly and provided with the necessary protection.

While the sex work industry may seem taboo to some, I’m glad that my father took a stand and helped to provide these men and women with a space to perform their trade safely. Which is something I know he has repeatedly ensured us, I can tell just how proud he is of how much he is changing the underworld in America.

Not everyone can be a saint. At least while they are sinning, they are safe I guess.

As we begin our short trip to the clubhouse, Rhodes begins filling me in on some of the more legitimate ventures of the gang. The clubhouse is a massive building smack bang in the middle of the Thunderbirds’ compound. He explains it to be more of a gated community with the majority of the members living in houses built by the gang. Not only do the members live there, but they also have the opportunity to work as well. Grocery stores, boutiques, bars, mechanics – you name it, they own and run it. For the Thunderbirds, having these more legitimate businesses in the community help to keep the Feds away according to my brother.

“The best part is the Pinks’ Lounge.”

“Pinks’ Lounge?” I ask.

“Yeah, the ladies that were inducted into the Thunderbirds decided to make a club within a club I guess. They call themselves the Pink Ladies, hence the name Pinks’ Lounge.

“It's an eighteen plus gentlemen’s club but the majority of us just use it as our hang out space. They have live bands perform occasionally.”

“You still sing right?” Our father jumps into our conversation.

I turn towards him, giving him a small smile,“Yeah I do.”

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