Chapter One
Jesse
The way the record spins on the player reminds me of her ass while she’s riding my dick. Uneven, but still steady, jerky, the same warble seeping out with each revolution. It’s damaged, broken beyond repair, like all the things scorched inside the walls of my house. I have no clue how the record player continues spinning. Why it survived but everything else burned, is maddening. Staring at it through a blood-tinged haze, the only thing I can think of is her riding my dick, thick lips smiling down at me. It’s as if she’s taunting me.
Look what I did. I burned your house down. I left you with nothing. But you still can’t get me out of your head.
I step over the ash pile that used to be a sofa, and my hands shake as I pick up the record player and slam the fucking thing against the ground. It stops. It’s dead. There aren’t any moving parts. I wish it would bleed, give some weak attempt to come back to life. I want to kill it again, but it remains silent, receiving its fate—a grave in a pile of thick ash. The remnants of my life. Every memory, the collection of everything that meant anything is now simmering in an exposed heap for the world to gawk at.
A sharp pain cuts me through my stomach, and I double over, folding into myself. I have to get the fuck out of here. I want to leave and never return to this dusty fucking town that’s nothing but trouble. They’ll let me leave without hassle because I lost everything. This fucking devastation will be my ticket out. I inhale the scent of charred electronics, wincing, and I think about Bethany again. That bitch. She has ruined me. I have to leave. I have to get out or this goddamn misery will chain me to this place for the rest of my life.
There’s nothing left for you here, run.
If only it were that easy, if only I weren’t in it for life. Turning, I walk toward the street. There isn’t a front door to open or close, nothing to lock up to secure, no keys I’ve forgotten on the counter, only a yawning black hole where my life used to be.
Gawkers outside cover their mouths as they gape at my loss. The closest trailer is a mile away, so their cars litter the sides of my dirt road like trash. Fucking assholes. The whole town is trash, a burning heap of the forgotten, but it’s the only place I’ve belonged. I pull my hoodie up, and glare at the piss heads feeling sorry for me, aching for me. I recognize some of them now that I’m closer, but that’s not surprising in a shit town this small. They look away, like feral animals that know what’s best for them. I’m the predator. I remind myself that not even an animal as lethal as a lion can keep coyotes from circling when they sense a moment of weakness. I push down the urge to fight as my anger rises. This is not the time to fight. Not here, not now, not when I am this broken.
Ronnie slides his arm around my shoulders. His musty leather jacket smells like beer. Mixed with the remnants of the fire, the scent makes my stomach roil. “I got a job for you, Jesse,” he says.
I turn my face from his, my eyes falling to the scorpion tattooed on his left hand. The tail wrapping around his wrist, its pinchers reaching out with his thumb and first finger. He has better placement, but I had a better artist.
“Now?” I pull out of his grasp, disbelief washing over me. Surely, he’s not serious.
“Why not now? You wanna kill somethin’, don’t you? I know what the look on your face means. They know what the look on your face means. Use it, my friend. Use it.”
He’s not my friend. I don’t have any of those. He’s in it just like I am, so we keep each other close. We’re the favors. The strength. The threat looming on your doorstep if you owe our bosses.
“Bethany is long gone. She took off right after she…” Ronnie gestures to the foundation where my house used to be.
“They let her just go?” I can’t keep the incredulous shock out of my voice. Is that all it takes to get the fuck out of here? I’ll burn this whole fucking place down if that is the way out.
He shakes his head, smiling on one side. “Nah, different chapter. You know how it works, man.”
We’re in it for life. I swallow down the lump in my throat and nod.
“So, about that work,” he says. “It’s just one fight, at The Grot and after this mess, odds will be in your favor.”
The odds are always in my favor with fights. Always. No one has rage like me. No one has less to lose, and it’s the one thing I can count on. It’s why Bethany burned my house down like a psychotic bitch. I beat her brother in an unplanned match. She thought I’d throw it on her account, but that’s not my style and she didn’t know me like she thought she did.
We have a motto, an eye for an eye. Except what I did was legal, kind of, and what she did was commit multiple felonies. I knew the second I heard about the fire, that she would get away with it because no one polices this unincorporated shit hole. No one keeps the bad away. We are all corrupt in differing degrees and justice is swift and merciless.
“Who is it?” I ask, feeling like a fight is exactly what I want after losingeverything.
Ronnie tells me. Then he tells me how much I stand to make because of who this dude is. It’s a lot. He’s from a big city and is willing to come here to rumble with me. “And after you win, there’s another dark job.”
I shake my head. “No dark jobs tonight. I just lost fucking everything. Give me a break.” Dark jobs mean death. A hit. Someone isn’t happy with someone else and they’re paying us to fix the problem for them.
“Fine, I’ll take that one if you agree to the fight.” I nod solemnly and step onto my bike. I take off and nearly hit one of the people gawking at the hole where my trailer used to be. I drive to the mechanic shop to work, because I don’t have anywhere else to go. It’s a greasy place filled with former felons, current felons, and literal outcasts. I kick a bag of tools out of my way as I walk to my station.
“Fuck you, Jesse. No one cares you lost everything because of that psycho slut,” Slappy hisses, his voice coarse from smoking. The pockmarks in his face are red and angry.
I kick his tools again. “Get bent, you damn addict.” Slappy goes to stand from his stool, but my boss holds him down by one shoulder.
“Don’t,” he says, then to me. “Jesse, my office. Now.”
I follow him to the back where more than just business is conducted, and flinch when the heavy door slams behind me. “Ronnie told me.”
“Everyone fucking knows. You can see the smoke for miles. I got nowhere else to go,” I explain. I’m not supposed to be on shift today, and after what happened, no one would expect me to show for days, if not weeks.