Page 7 of Abel

“Just what I said. I’ll handle it. The only piece of real information he left was a name. Of course I have the caller's number, but I don’t know if he is actually this Santiago character or someone else is.” I watch them, my crew, ready to go down with me if I ask them to.

“Okay, so what do you need us to do?” Cueball asks, moving in my line of sight.

“Looks like I’ll have to text that number and set up a meeting with Santiago.”

“Okay, do it. Let’s see what this fucker has to say.” Tark says.

Pulling out my phone, I sent a text.

Me: Tell Santiago I’m listening.

Unknown: Come to this location, 324 Pike Ave, three days from now. You may bring your most trusted rider, no one else. Weapons are encouraged. I will see you then.

I don’t bother with a text back. “I have a meeting with him in three days. Tark, you’ll be coming with me.” I’m not worried about this meeting or who this guy is. Me and my crew ride together, and he can’t tell me who I can or can not have there with me. For now, I’ll abide by his rules. “Okay, now that that’s done, no more questions or interruptions. Anarchy Saints business is over. Time for some fun.”

Chapter Four

Ivy

December 31st, 2022

I’d always dreamt of going to college, I wanted to help people and thought being a lawyer was the best way to do that. So, I studied hard.

Graduated at the top of my class with a 4.0 GPA.

Before I even graduated, I had applied to several different colleges to which I’d been accepted into two of the best pre-law programs.

But instead of staying on that path, I ended up choosing a much different one.

I was in my fourth semester when it hit me.

Becoming a lawyer didn’t bring me the joy I seeked. Sketching, drawing, and painting slowly became my new obsession. What started out as a fun pastime unlocked a new hidden talent within myself that I never knew existed.

So, I switched majors.

Thankfully all I had to do was shift some classes around, which gave me the choice to take them on-campus or online.

I enjoyed the on-campus experience where I was invited to mixers and frat parties, getting to my dorm at 2 am completely smashed and crashing on the couch. But I had other plans and things to occupy my time now.

I was at the top of my game, and on the right track to be successful in my new career.

Just when you think you have it all figured out… Life throws you lemons. Not just any kind of lemons, those sour, little bastards that take a fuckton of sugar to make them taste as sweet as you know they can be.

I’ve run out of sugar because those lemons are still sour as fuck.

I’ve been holed up in my room, well the room I’ve been slumming it in the last few days, which smells like swamp ass.

You know the smell I’m talking about.

Picture it… You’ve been camping in the woods for the past five days. Exercising, hiking, fishing, you know… Living your best life, outdoors.

The only catch.

No shower or stream for you to wash off in, so you have to straight thug it. I’m talking, wearing the same clothes after you hang them up to air out, and you have no way of brushing your teeth.

Hence the term swamp ass.

What has me in such a way like this, you ask?

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