Prologue
Track
Seventeen Years Ago
The figure-eight I made with my dirt bike in the gravel grew bigger and bigger. Before I knew it, it would be the length of the parking lot in front of the clubhouse. I went back and forth from side to side, making myself dizzy as I zoned out.
The sun shined high in the sky, a gentle breeze cooling me off. I rode back and forth from one side of the lot to the other over and over. The world around me seemed to fade away, becoming nothing but a blur.
Back and forth I went, making the figure-eight larger.
I could make this shape with my eyes closed.
I should try it to see how it turned out.
Sweat dripped down my temples as I shut my eyes. My arms were hot with the sun beating down on me. I hated summer. During the school year, I could hang out with my friends. I didn’t have a brother or sister to play with at the clubhouse. The only other kid living on the compound was Justin and Laura’s baby girl, Emilee.
Shoot! My eyes burst open when I went to turn back. I couldn’t do it. Didn’t trust myself to not crash into one of the Harleys lined up in front of the building. My dad would beat my ass if I hit a member’s hog… or his.
Knowing my dad, he’d take my dirt bike away and lock it up until next summer. I should keep my eyes open from now on. I’d die without my bike.
But how long were my eyes closed? Probably not longer than ten seconds or less. I peered over my shoulder, hoping I hadn’t ruined my design. Phew. It looked okay.
I welcomed the whizzing sound of my bike’s motor to drown out my thoughts.
Back and forth. Back and forth. I went from one end to the other, making my figure-eight. My mom called it an infinity symbol. She had one tattooed on the top of her left wrist with my dad’s and my name inside it. We were her life, her whole universe, the two people she loved most, and she had wanted the entire world to know we belonged to her.
After having me, my mom had some complications. My parents didn’t like to talk about it. All I knew about my birth was how scared my dad had been when he almost lost my mom. He’d told me he didn’t care if she couldn’t have any more kids. All he needed was his wife.
I shook those sad thoughts out of my head. “God, I’m so bored,” I groaned, dropping my chin to my chest and speeding up.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Why did my dad and his MC brothers have to have church? Usually, they’d be in the garage working on their hogs after supper. But the Prez had called church. I wanted to be with them, tinkering on my dirt bike and listening to their stories instead of riding alone.
“God, I’m so bored,” I said again. “Will you guys hurry it up!”
Around eight o’clock, they’d go inside the bar and screw around playing pool or screwing a club girl. Not my dad, though. He only screwed my mom. The single guys messed with the kittens. I might only be twelve, but I knew all about the raunchy activities in the clubhouse. If my dad and the others didn’t come out soon, I’d be forced to lurk and spy on everyone, so I didn’t feel alone.
I briefly considered going inside to bug my mom but doused that idea. She’d probably put me to work.
My mom and Justin’s old lady were cleaning the kitchen after supper with the kittens. Kittens were club girls, girls who were for the club’s patched members.
Boo-hoo, poor me, sent outside to play so I wouldn’t eavesdrop on the women gossiping.
And who should I play with while they did their own thing?
Nobody.
“I hate summer!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. No one would hear me over the sound of my dirt bike. No one except for maybe God. “Do you hear me, God? I hate being alone!”
As I turned around, my mom exited the clubhouse and waved. I slowed my bike, so I didn’t zoom past her and kick up dirt. She wouldn’t appreciate getting caught in a cloud of dust.
“Hey, where are you going?” I shouted, a spark of excitement bringing me out of my funk. If it was to town, I wanted to go. Maybe she’d swing by Dairy Queen and buy me a Blizzard.
“What?” She put her hand to her ear and smiled.