Page 10 of Monster

He ruled the club for nearly two decades, and things had been going well until the bastard got greedy and got into bed with all sorts of people, from politicians to corrupt officers and even the Italian mob in Chicago.

And he played double agent, trying to turn each of those powerful men against each other. Plus, fucker didn’t just want the club to deal with drugs but skin.

I might be fucked in the head, but I didn’t deal in skin.

I didn’t deal in people.

I had been a new patch member in the club, and I could even tell shit was gonna blow up in our faces, and fast, if we kept on the trajectory Boomer was leading us down.

So I started an insurgent group.

Boomer was the first man I had ever killed.

I would have left the fucker alone if he hadn’t threatened Kai, who had been no more than ten at that time.

I wasn’t sure how much my boy remembered from our time in Las Vegas, but shit was bad for a while.

California was a way for us to start new.

To be better, stronger…richerthan the old club, and I had more than accomplished that.

Beside me, Micah and Roman talked to Kai about the club, and I let the steady hum of their voices comfort me.

This was like being at home, with the classic rock music playing through the speaker, the bustle of the wait staff, and, hell, even the sticky floor beneath my black boots.

I wouldn’t fucking trade this for anything in the world.

Micah caught the eye of the waitress, and he signaled for drinks.

It might be a little too early for drinking, but fuck, yeah, I wanted to join in on the fun.

I signaled for my own drink and leaned back again, taking in my kingdom.

3

EMMY

I wipedthe sweat off my forehead as I exited the car.

Even with the windows rolled down on the drive here, I was still hot.

Summer was officially upon us, and I should be excited about that, but very few things got me excited these days.

And this day was already ruined when I was woken up this morning by a phone call from my mom.

We talked for about five minutes, putting up the pretense that things were okay between us before slowly descending into an awkward silence that she finally ended by saying she hadstuffto do.

It seemed that when I was growing up, my mom always had stuff to do that didn’t involve being a mom.

The worst part about growing up wasn’t the added responsibilities, nor was it the stress of adulthood, but the hard realization that your parents weren’t the superheroes you had made them out to be in your head, but very flawed individuals who each year seemed to get more…human.

The realization that they had always been flawed people, only I didn’t notice it until I was a grownup.

I didn’t know when it was that I realized my parents were selfish people.

They weren’t bad parents, per se. I didn’t grow up abused, just slightly neglected. It still hurt to realize my parents had never really wanted to take on the role of parents in the first place, and I had been an inconvenience to them my whole life.

Until I finally had something to offer. To add value of my place in their lives. Too bad that had come to an abrupt end with the use of my own hands—and my music career.

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