Page 1 of Clash
1
My stomach grumbled as I stared at the candy bar sitting in my hand. It was the only food we had, and was bought using the change I scraped up over the past two days from gutters and wads of chewing gum stuck to the heated streets. I could’ve sat on a corner begging for money, using my child as a beacon for the bleeding hearts who actually gave a damn about the street rats who lived on scraps like us, but it would also bring on too much attention—attention that could bringhimback into our lives.
My arms still ached from the scattered bruises he left on me. They were long gone, but the internal scarring remained. Alex’s stomach grumbled beside me, and my own inner hunger waned as I studied his pleading expression. I can live another day without eating... at least that’s what I was going to keep telling myself.
We left everything back home, leaving with only the shirts on our backs. We hitchhiked across five counties before finallyfinding ourselves in Austin, living on the streets as far away from him as we could. The women’s shelter was full, and all the homeless shelters had a waiting list, so for two weeks now, we’ve stayed out here alone, doing our best to survive even though the nights were suddenly turning colder.
“Mommy, you can have the candy bar. You look hungry.” His stomach protested, and before I could think twice, I handed him the candy bar, watching him gobble up every morsel like it was a five-star meal. “Next time, can we buy Skittles? I love Skittles because I can share them with you, and you won’t be so hungry,” he stated, chocolate staining his adorably dimpled face.
“Sure, honey. Next time, I’ll make sure we get Skittles so we can share.” My stomach grumbled again in anticipation.
His face warmed, snuggling against me as the streetlights came on behind the gas station. “Mommy, I’m cold.”
I handed him the blanket we found behind a thrift store, and he snuggled immediately under it, using what was left of my body warmth to keep him cozy. The night’s chill air ran underneath my thin jacket, and I did my best to keep the tears at bay. This was not where I pictured my life going. I had no home, no family, or anywhere safe to go. My friends all abandoned me, and my family was long gone or lived incredibly far away. All I had was Alex, and I would do anything to protect my son... even eat from the trash again.
Carefully, I pried his warm body away from me, then rose to my feet, peering over the dumpster that smelled like rancid old food and piss. There was a half-moldy muffin that had been thrown out earlier today, and all day I’d debated on whether to fish it out and eat it. In shame, I picked up the muffin, unwrapped it from its package, and picked away the mold, forcing myself to eat the only food in the dumpster that looked partially edible. Tears streamed down my face as I thought about the lavish life I used to live... four walls safe from the elements,warm clothes on my back, and food that would always fill my belly. I never had to want for anything when I was with him... but loving him came with a price... a price I wouldn’t pay anymore.
No... I had to do this for Alex, I had to get him away before the abuse turned deadly—before he became the next target. The muffin soured my stomach as I snuggled back into the box, curling against my son, who whimpered in his sleep. Shivers and goosebumps peppered my skin as I desperately tried to shut my eyes, but every sound had me on edge. One day, someone would find us back here, and then what?
Would I lose Alex forever?
Would they give him back to him?
Would I be arrested for child endangerment?
The fear of the unknown consumed my every thought, deafening my ears as the consequences of my actions raced to catch up with me. I couldn’t do this much longer. I was either going to die out here protecting my son, or die at his hand. Either way, death seemed to be breathing down my neck, just waiting for me to slip up and make the wrong move. But that day wouldn’t be today. Today, my son got to eat something, and even though the muffin made my stomach feel queasy, it was enough food to suffice for another day—at least for now.
2
The chair stood no chance against my Hulk-like temper. Picking the fragile thing up, I hurled it across the room, watching in sick satisfaction as it fractured and splintered from the blow.
“Clash, calm the fuck down!” Skid yelled.
Rage consumed me as I grabbed a table by its edges, flipping it violently until it was on its back. One of the sweet butts screamed, and quickly fled the room, but I was seeing too much red to notice which girl it was. “Calm down! You’re asking me to calm down? Three of our men just up and drove off in the middle of the night, one of them was our fucking so-called Prez, all to chase after the two bitches responsible for tearing this club apart, and you’re asking me to calm down? Why aren’t you angrier?” I turned to face all my brothers who were standing there staring at me like I completely lost my mind.
“All of you should be in an uproar over this shit! And you!” I growled, turning on Priest. “This is your fucking fault! You should’ve kept your stupid mouth shut. The club was juststarting to piece itself back together, and now we’re all fractured again.”
Priest shrugged his shoulders. “We were still fractured, Clash. We just got good at hiding it.”
“Yeah, well, I was ready to move on from all this shit. Now he’s God only knows where, attempting to bring back the temptress that destroyed our club. What if she comes back, huh? Are we all just going to welcome her back with open arms, singing Kumbaya by the campfire as we become one big, fucked up polyamorous family? Because frankly, I’m not interested in re-kindling anything with her. I got enough bitches around here to satisfy any craving for pussy I may have.”
“You sound like Sabbath,” Ranger exclaimed.
“Shut the fuck up, Ranger. You know as well as I do that the second that girl returns; all hell is going to suddenly break loose again.”
“May—maybe not,” Sandman stuttered from his chair. “Sabb—Sabbath was the r—root of all the tr—trouble, not her.”
Turning to Skid, I smirked. “Tell that to Warrant.”
Skid glared at me. “Watch your mouth, Clash.”
Rolling my eyes, I returned to my soapbox with my chest puffed out and a true purpose. “If Shasta Hall returns to this club, it’s going to be a big mistake. Wherever that girl goes, trouble follows.”
Ranger cleared his throat. “There wouldn’t have been any trouble if you had just let her and Snyder sneak around and not try to throw your dick into the mix as well. You’re just as much to blame for the trouble in the club as she is. If not more. Hell, if you had left them alone, maybe none of this would’ve happened at all. Warrant would still be alive, and we could’ve overthrown Sabbath the proper way, stripping him of his rank and patch, instead of dismembering his miserable corpse and scattering it all over Austin.”
Waving him off, I continued my rant. “I’m just saying that bringing her back will be a huge mistake. We had our fun. She left the club. Why kick a dead horse?”
“Because Snyder actually loves her,” Priest answered. “And in order for him to lead this club, he needed closure. That’s why I gave him her location. They all needed to figure this shit out for the sake of the club.”
