Page 84 of Patching Over

“Yes. I rummaged through your memories already,” he replies.

Nodding, I continue to observe the past, somehow standing ‘right there’ despite the fact no one sees us or hears us. In a way, it’s shocking, because at the time, I was focused on my sister, allowing the prospects to pay attention to the other kids who were running around playing. As a kid, I never noticed when the two prospects left us alone, but I clearly see it now, many years later.

“They had to be involved,” I murmur to myself, my eyes never leaving where my younger self is now, at the swing where she’s begging for me to push her.

I’m pushing Ryleigh on the swings when a white van pulls up near the fence. Glancing around, I see the other little kids playing, but I don’t see the prospects, which is strange. Theyalwayswatch us when we are outside while the parents are inside. “Go inside now!” I quietly yell to the other kids. “Get my dad and RiffRaff!”

As both men scale the fence and move in my direction, their eyes laser focused on my little sister, I snatch her out of the swing and start running toward the back of the clubhouse.

At this point, I’m panting, and sweat is pouring from my body. I may not remember what happens next, but I know the end results; RyRy is kidnapped and I’m badly injured. “Just watch,” Wrecker whispers.

“It’s hard to see this, knowing how long she was separated from us, realizing that what happened on this day changed my life forever,” I admit, wincing when I see the taller of the twosnatch Ryleigh from my arms and toss her to the side while the other one slams his fist into my face.

I watch as the two men commence to beating the shit out of me, while I vainly try to hold my own, kicking, punching, and even biting them, in an attempt to get away. The snap of my arm causes a momentary flash of pain and I flex my hand to remind myself I’m whole; this is the past, not right now. My bellows of rage surround us, as I yell for my father, for RiffRaff, for any of the brothers to help.

When I spot the two prospects coming into the yard, I see my younger self yell at them to help me, only to watch in horror as they laugh before scooping Ryleigh up and heading to the van. “Theywereinvolved,” I whisper in shock.

“There’s more, Brother,” Wrecker cautions.

Honestly, at this point, I don’t know how much more I can stomach watching. My face is bloody, tears of frustration and pain streaking down onto my clothes and turning them crimson. Seeing my dominant arm dangling uselessly, I watch as I start using some of the martial arts moves my dad taught me in an effort to stop the two men. Their grunts of pain have me smirking, until one catches my leg and violently twists it, causing me to fall to the ground, my leg now at an awkward angle. I can no longer speak since by now, they’ve broken my jaw, but I still try to stop them until one of them sends a kick to my temple knocking me out cold. As they run away, I watch my younger self lying on the ground, blood pouring out of my wounds, unconscious.

“Fuck me,” I mutter.

I’m shocked when several minutes later, I see myself come to then start to crawl toward the back of the clubhouse. Over and over again, I hear my pain-filled whimpers, and see my mouth open to yell, only for nothing to come out because of myshattered jaw. At some point, the pain must become too much because I collapse again, my eyes shut.

Mere feet from the back door.

“You fought with everything you had, Brother,” Wrecker advises me. “This was not on you and it’s time for you to let that guilt go. Those fuckers had a plan in place for a time when everything aligned so they could kidnap your sister. Were the prospects ever found?” he asks.

I think back to that time and finally shrug. “I honestly don’t know, to be truthful. I was in the hospital for a week or so, and kept medicated for the first few days because of the severity of my injuries. That would’ve been club business, so they wouldn’t have said anything at all around us.”

“Maybe you and Brick need to investigate that, see what you can find out now that you’re adults. If those two are still out there somewhere, they need to be made to pay for what they set in motion.”

“You’re absofuckinglutely right,” I growl out, as the scene in front of me continues. I watch as my dad and RiffRaff, along with three other brothers, burst through the back door, their guns drawn.

I see my father, my badass, tough-as-nails dad, drop to his knees as tears fall down his face while he lightly touches my unconscious, prone body. Hear the brothers yelling as they scour the yard for Ryleigh, only to come up empty-handed.

“Sleep now, Brother. You have the answers as to what happened, and can now seek those two men who helped the enemy that fateful day.”

My sleep is dreamless, and I awaken the next morning feeling more rested than I have in years. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I send Brick a text.

Me: We need to see what RiffRaff remembers from that day.

Brick: I take it you got some answers.

Me: Absofuckinglutely, Brother.

Brick: I’ll ask and let you know.

Now satisfied that I’ve done what I could for the time being, I shower, get dressed, then head on down to see if I can scrounge up some coffee and maybe something to eat. As I walk through the common room, I see brothers, some from this chapter and others who are not, sitting at tables eating what looks like a full-spread breakfast. Eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, toast; each plate is piled high with food, and I watch the club girls moving between the tables refilling coffee cups. With my intent now clear, I turn toward the kitchen and grin when I see the buffet-style setup. Grabbing a plate and some silverware, I start filling my own plate, the smells causing my stomach to growl lightly despite the fact I ate well last night.

Guess watching one’s past life works up an appetite. Chuckling, I make it to the end of the line, pick up a coffee cup, then head out to find a spot to sit so I can eat.

“Yo, Banshee!” Scythe calls out. “Over here.”

I manage to maneuver my way through the throng of tables without spilling anything, then set my stuff on the table before I pull out a chair. Before I’m fully settled, a club girl with bright pink hair stops by and fills my coffee cup to the brim. “Doyou need any creamer or sugar?” she asks, peering at me from underneath her lashes.

“I’m good, thanks,” I reply, brushing her off. I already pretty much stay away from the girls at home; there’s no fucking way I’m sticking my dick into another chapter’s sweet butts. Once again, longing for something like what my parents had and what my sister and Brick are creating hits me square in the chest.

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