“I give my boys everything. The fuck you talkin’ about?”
“And Luke—”
“Jesus Christ… back to this shit again,” he viciously spewed, eyeing her up and down. “It’s been one less mouth to fuckin’ feed. I ain’t even sure that little shit was mine.”
My mother never reacted to my father’s abuse, but there was something about the look in her eyes in that moment that showed me this wasn’t going to fucking end well.
“You son of a bitch! You piece of shit!” she screamed, lunging at him off the porch, using all her strength to scratch, punch, and kick him. Doing anything and everything she could in her power to physically hurt him.
Her fist connected with his temple, stunning him for a second. I sprang into action, stepping in before he regained his composure, and was able to really hurt her. Grabbing ahold of her waist, I roughly jerked her flailing body off of him. Holding her in my arms.
“It’s your fault! It’s your fault he’s fucking dead! Your godforsaken club is just violence and death! You did this, and I hope you burn in Hell for it!” she seethed, trying to fight me off.
“Ma, enough! Enough!” I yelled, trying to calm her down. Locking my arms tighter around her.
“You stupid bitch! Look around. I have given you everythin’ because of that godforsaken club! This is how you treat me? After everythin’ I’ve done for you! After taking you back, after you—”
“I wish I would have stayed! I wish I had never come back to you! That was the worst decision of my life!” She wrestled her way out of my grasp, getting right up to his face. “You aren’t half the man you think you are. You’re nothing like he—”
The barrel of his gun was right under her chin, rendering her speechless. The cool metal didn’t faze her one bit. She didn’t back down. The alcohol and fury running through her veins was all the liquid courage she needed.
I didn’t falter, moving fast.
Getting over to them in two strides, forcefully pushing her body out of the line of fire. Her tiny frame fell to the ground, but all that mattered to me was that she wasn’t on the other end of that fucking barrel.
When I turned back around, the gun was now pointed at my chest.
“Creed, no! Let—” I shoved her back down.
“Do it! Wanna kill someone? Then fuckin’ do it, Prez,” I mocked, gritting my teeth. “Pull the trigger. It don’t matter to me anymore.” Grabbing the barrel of the gun, I held it firmly in place over my heart.
His eyes glazed over at the sincerity of my words. It was quick, but I saw it. I knew he wouldn’t do it, his finger didn’t move from the trigger, though. I secretly wished he would take the shot. He never even thanked me for taking a bullet for him, never even said one goddamn word about it.
I saved his life, and he still wanted to own mine.
I saw Noah from the corner of my eye, standing by the door. Watching it all go down. I didn’t know how long he’d been standing there, but by the look on his face, he had seen enough.
Pops took a long, deep breath, stepping back. Lowering his gun. “She died, Creed. Autumn fuckin’ died. Wanna go fight for your country? Be G.I. Fucking Joe. That ain’t gonna bring her back.”
“You don’t know shit about shit,” I spit out.
“Turnin’ your back on your brothers? On your fuckin’ family?” He pushed me, but I didn’t waver. “Don’t deserve to wear that fuckin’ cut.”
His fist collided with my face before he got the last word out. My head whooshed back, taking half of my body with me. Ma screamed as Noah witnessed Pops’ assault. She rushed over to him and took him inside.
I stumbled, shaking it off. “This how it’s gonna go down?” I asked, spitting blood onto the lawn.
He growled, charging me, ramming his shoulder into my torso. Taking me to the ground, my back skidded into the rough grass beneath me, but I was prepared for it now and instantly fought back. We wrestled around for a few minutes, each of us trying to gain the upper hand on the other. Elbows, fists, and legs flew everywhere, intermingling together as we threw down. I was able to get on top of him and get a few hits to his fucking face.
Taking out all the years of pent-up anger and resentment toward him for Luke and the way he buried him.
“Don’t wanna fuckin’ fight you! You old fuck! Calm down and let me explain!”
He hit me in the gut, causing me to fall to the side. Using the momentum of his punch, to flip me over, locking me in with his weight. I immediately guarded my face, but it didn’t matter. He punched me in the ribs, the stomach, getting a few good hits to the side of my face, too.
“Goddamn it!” I roared, blocking another blow. “Not takin’ off my cut! Don’t want outta the club. I earned these fuckin’ colors! You dick! I just need this! Not just for her, for me! I’m fuckin’ losin’ myself, old man!”
He abruptly stopped with his fist mid-air, both of us panting heavily, sweating profusely. Our eyes remained wild and brazen as we took in each other. A few moments later he lowered his fist, shoving off me, never taking our intense, crazed stares away from one another.
I stood up, needing to take a few steps back to collect myself. “All my life, all I’ve done is follow your fuckin’ orders, never asked you for a damn thing in return. Need you to be my father this one fuckin’ time,” I breathed out, breaking the silence between us. “Need to make this right and take those motherfuckers out. You can understand that more than anyone, Prez.” Cocking my head to the side. “Just need a leave of absence, ain’t no different if I was locked up, my loyalty is still to the club when I get discharged. I just need this,” I repeated.
His face was void of any emotion. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t read him at all.
“Don’t make me beg…” I found myself saying.
He stepped back, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. His thoughts clearly raged war in his mind, in regards to what he was going to do. He turned to leave, stopping at the last second. Looking at me with nothing but disgust in his eyes, he finally said, “Callin’ church. Your ass better be there at noon tomorrow.” He left, never once turning back to look at me.
I staggered my way inside, grabbing a dish towel for my bloody nose and lip before heading into the living room. Ma came running up to me as soon as she saw me walking in. “I’m fine,” I groaned, wrapping my arm around my ribs. Hissing through the pain. I took a seat on the couch.
“Let me get the first aid kit.” She hurried out of the room before I could refuse.
I sank further into the couch, placing my legs on the coffee table, closing my eyes and breathing through the pain. And I wasn’t talking about the aches on my body.
“You really leavin’ us?” Noah murmured from behind me, just loud enough for me to hear.
It seemed like it was one fucking thing after another. Feeling his disappointment stabbing into my skin with a jagged blade. “Noah, I—”
“You’re gonna leave me with them? You’re all I got, Creed,” he lamented, his voice breaking. “What if you die? Like Luke? What if someone accidentally pulls the trigger on you, Creed? What happens then?”
I opened my mouth to say something but quickly shut it. Realizing Noah knew more than I ever gave him credit for. I didn’t know how to make him understand my reasoning for a decision I had never taken lightly. I spent the last year contemplating this life-altering choice and today only confirmed what I already knew I had to fucking do.
He walked over, standing in front of me. “Joe’s dad never came back from war. I don’t want to lose another brother.”
“I gotta do this, Noah. Not only for Autumn but for myself. Don’t expect you to understand, but I do need you to respect my decision and know, this is for you too.”
“I call bullshit.”
I shrugged. “Don’t know what you want me to say, Noah.”
“Just go, Creed! Don’t worry about me. I’ll figure shit out on my own.”
“I love
you, Noah. You’re my brother. You’re in my blood. Nothin’ gonna change that.”
He slowly backed away. “Whatever you have to tell yourself. Go die for your fuckin’ country.” He took one last look at me, shook his head, and left.
I didn’t sleep at all that night, listening to the voices inside my head. Praying to God I was making the right choice.
Knowing in the end it didn’t fucking matter.
I rode out to the clubhouse early next the morning. Sat in on Church as if I was a man waiting for his execution.
The vote was unanimous.
I left the club that afternoon and enlisted into the U.S. Army.
FIFTEEN
MIA
My family had been fighting for weeks. My momma in tears, my daddy constantly yelling, I hated seeing everyone so upset. My family wasn’t perfect, we had our disagreements, arguments even broke out from time to time, but they never lasted longer than a few hours, maybe a day.
This was different.
It didn’t stop.
The same thing every day.
Mason enlisted in the Army without even discussing it with anyone, including my parents. He’d be leaving in a few days for boot camp, saying he needed to do something for the greater good. Make a difference. My parents didn’t understand nor agree with the way he decided to go about it. All they saw was that he was putting his life in danger.
There were plenty of opportunities to do good right here in North Carolina. We all knew he wanted to go into the military someday, he’d been saying it ever since I could remember. I didn’t take him seriously.
No one did.
It had been a year since some terror guys took down the World Trade Center in New York. I didn’t understand what that meant, or why anyone would want to hurt people they didn’t know. Why we couldn’t all just get along and spread love, not hate. Daddy said the world wasn’t made like that, but people like me are what made it better.
Everyone kept saying it was a day America would never forget, especially my brother. His friend, Autumn, the girl Creed was always around, was killed in the North Tower that day. The news took a toll on Mason, giving him the excuse he needed to enlist. Fighting for our country was his calling. Protecting the ones, he loved was his mission. The tension was on high alert in my house, making it become our own war zone since he told them.
Giselle wouldn’t even speak to him. From what I gathered eavesdropping at his door, he didn’t discuss this life-changing decision with her either. Aunt Aubrey and Giselle came over one night to hang out, and all she did was cry to my momma about Mason. I felt so bad for her, but my brother had always been an asshole. This behavior was nothing new, I wasn’t allowed to say that about him, but it didn’t change the truth. Giselle thought they were going to get married, start having babies and be a family together.
And then he enlisted.
See… asshole.
My other brother Bo started working at the restaurant after school and on the weekends, bussing tables and helping in the back. The day he turned fourteen, he asked Momma for a job, so she gave him one. I started hanging out at the restaurant more too, riding to work alongside him on our bikes. Daddy said since I would be twelve in a few months, he would let me go with Bo. I think it was more because he didn’t want me in the house, hearing them fight all the time.
I took all my sadness out on the waves, spending all my free time in the water. Being able to relish in the free feeling of being pushed along by nature’s force. Riding the perfect waves, and be one with the ocean. There was no feeling in the world that could describe it.
The ocean had always been my happy place.
I sat on the beach, watching the sunset not paying attention to anyone around me. Enjoying the peacefulness before having to go home to the madness.
I glanced over when I felt someone sit beside me.
“Hey, Pippin,” Creed greeted, grinning from ear-to-ear. Making me instantly smile back.
I hadn’t seen him in what felt like forever. He looked older and bigger if that was even possible.
“I haven’t seen you in a while. You’re lucky you always wear the same clothes or else I wouldn’t have even recognized you,” I teased. “Do you have any other clothes?” I smirked, unable to help myself. Gesturing to his vest. I’d never seen him wearing anything but jeans, a shirt, and that vest. I was starting to think he didn’t own any real clothes.
“It’s called a cut.”
“Yeah… well, that. I guess it’s a good thing. What else would I get you if you didn’t wear it anymore.”
He chuckled, looking back out toward the water. “Don’t need to get me anythin’.”
“Too late. I have more patches for you. Look.” I grabbed my backpack, reaching around until I found them. Gesturing for him to put his hand out. “I guess you can put them wherever you put the other ones,” I suggested, wanting him to know, I noticed they weren’t on his cut the last time I saw him.
He grabbed them out of my hand, reading the first one out loud, “Ain’t Nobody Got Time for That.”
When I saw it, I thought it was perfect. He was always in a rush. Telling me to hurry up. That he had places to be. Whatever that meant.
He read the next one. “Do I look like a people person.” Cocking his head to the side, giving me a knowing look.
I laughed. I thought that one was pretty self-explanatory.
He went on, reciting, “Here I am. What are your other two wishes?” Smiling, remembering why I got him that one. He moved onto the next, reading, “Bad example.” Smiling again, knowing it was because he kept telling me he was no good.
I finally handed him the last one I kept clutched in my hand. “This one’s for your girlfriend, Autumn,” I stated as he took in the ‘In Memory of 911. Our Fallen Angels’ patch. “I’m really sorry, Creed.”
He nodded, holding back his emotions. “Thanks for these.” Placing them in his pocket, he grabbed his cigarettes and lit one up. Blowing out the smoke to the side of him, away from me. Resting his elbows on his knees, bowing his head, deep in thought.
I resisted the urge to tell him those were bad for him again, feeling as though he was trying to comfort himself the only way he knew how.
“Not gonna see me for a while, Pippin,” he said out of nowhere. Shuffling the sand around with his boot.
“Longer than this last time?” I asked, confused.
“Gonna go fight the bad guys,” he confessed, nodding his head to me.
My mouth parted, and my stomach dropped. Now I would have two people to worry about. “You’re going with Mason,” I breathed out, my heart in my throat. Already knowing the answer.
“Got your brother’s back. Don’t worry about him,” he whispered as if reading my mind.
“What about you?”
“Been takin’ care of myself for a long time. Don’t need to worry about me either.”
I had so much to say…
But mostly, I just wanted him to know I’d miss him. More than I already had.
“Pinky promise me you’ll stay safe. That you won’t be reckless, and if you get scared… you’ll run. You won’t try to be a hero. Promise me, soldier,” I urged, holding my little finger out in front of his face.
Waiting.
He hooked his pinky with mine, looking deep into my eyes with a lopsided grin. Making my belly flutter like he always did. I wrapped my other arm around my tummy, hoping he wouldn’t notice I was trying to calm myself. Trying to focus my attention on the roughness of his hand, the scars etched into his skin, noticing how much bigger it was than mine. He could easily swallow it in his whole fist and still have space.
I leaned in and kissed our pinkies for good measure. He never said the words, but it didn’t matter. A pinky promise was legit business and not to be messed with.
“Gotta go. Meetin’ Mason. Just saw you sittin’ out here and wanted to say goodbye.” He started to stand.
“Can I write you?”
He sat back do
wn, giving me a puzzling expression. “Write me?”
“You know, with a pen and paper. Like pen pals. I’ll write you. You write me back. So you know you have a friend waiting for you when you come back home.”
He scoffed out, taken aback, “We’ll see, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I replied, trying to hide my disappointment.
He stood, brushing the sand from his black jeans. I followed suit, needing to head back inside. Without giving it any thought, I threw my arms around his waist, laying my head on his rock-solid stomach. Feeling the hard metal tucked in the back of his jeans, digging into my skin. I didn’t care, I just wanted to remember how he smelt, how he felt. Most of all, I wanted to give him a hug before he left.
Scared I would never see him again.
He froze, caught off guard by my sentiment, but I didn’t care. I just hugged him harder, squeezing him tight. He finally relaxed after a few seconds, placing his arm around me, lightly hugging me back.
I smiled through the tears that threatened in my eyes. I couldn’t help it, I was getting through his icy, broody demeanor, and that was something to be happy about.
He pulled away first, tugging on the end of my pigtail. “Stay little. Ya feel me?”
“I feel ya.”
He nodded one last time and turned to leave.
“Creed!” I called out, stopping him. He looked back at me. “It’s not goodbye. It’s just an I’ll see you later.” I saluted him.
He smiled, nodding. Saluting me back.
I watched him leave with a heavy heart. Silently praying for him and Mason to come home…
Safe.
SIXTEEN
CREED
I walked onto the bus around six in the morning on a Sunday, waiting for Mason. They were transporting us seven-and-a-half hours away to Fort Benning, Georgia for nineteen weeks of hell. Then onto Fort Bragg to begin our job training for at least a year. My recruiter helped me get my GED so I was able to enlist. We didn’t want to be just any soldiers. We wanted to be special operation soldiers. I wanted to be a weapons specialist, already knowing so much about guns, while Mason wanted to be an engineer.