Page 57 of Savage Angels
The streets of Maplewood are quiet at two o’clock in the morning as I weave through the bad part of town. Winter is coming. I can feel the chill in the air as I stick to the shadows. The person I’m looking for should be in the run-down white house up ahead.
The stench of piss and stale alcohol cling to the air as I stand outside the rundown shithole. I kick open the worn door, stepping into the dimly lit room. The floorboards creak beneath my boots and dirty, cracked walls close in around me, but I do not give a fuck. I am here for one reason and one reason only.
“Who the fuck are you?” the greasy man on the couch asks, eyeing me up and down. He looks like he hasn’t showered in weeks, his skin glistening with filth.
“Savage Angels don’t do drugs anymore.”
The man’s eyes widen in surprise, but he quickly regains his composure, laughing cynically. “Ha! That ain’t what the princess told me, kid,” he sneers. “Been dealin’ with your crew for months now.”
My blood boils at the mention of my twin sister. Kristen is spiraling out of control, and this bastard is feeding her habits. The fucker has no idea who I am or who he is messing with.
“Listen up, asshole,” I snarl. “You’ve been misinformed. You’re done peddling your shit to my people. You hear me?”
“Or what, pretty boy?” he mocks me, leaning back against the torn-up sofa. “You gonna send your daddy after me?”
Shit, he does know who I am.
“Shut your fucking mouth,” I seethe, trying to keep my anger in check. Losing control right now is not an option.
“Or what?” he repeats, his laughter turning into a sinister grin. “You ain’t got the balls to do shit.”
“Keep pushing me,” I warn, my voice low and dangerous. “See what happens.”
“Jesse? What the fuck are you doing here?” Kristen slurs as she stumbles into the room. Her eyes are glassy and unfocused, her movements sluggish. She is clearly high as a kite.
“Kristen,” I grit out, my heart clenching at the sight of her in such a state. “Get out of here.”
“Relax, Jesse,” she drawls, swaying slightly on her feet. “I’m just here for my shit.” She tosses a bag to the dealer, who smirks triumphantly.
“See, pretty boy? Your princess knows who she’s dealing with,” he taunts as he stands and hands Kristen a larger bag filled with bricks of heroin.
“Give me that,” I demand, reaching for the bag in Kristen’s hand, but she pulls away, her eyes narrowing in defiance.
“Back off, Jesse,” she hisses. “You don’t control me.”
“Like hell I don’t,” I retort, my patience wearing thin.
I am tired of cleaning up her messes and watching her destroy herself. But deep down, I know I will never be able to turn my back on her, not when she needs me most.
“Fine, do what the fuck you want,” I snap, stepping back. “But remember, Kristen, I ain’t always gonna be around to save your ass.”
“Who says I need saving?” She clutches the bag of heroin to her chest like it is a lifeline. “Get out of here, Jesse. Go play hero somewhere else.”
“Kristen, please,” I plead, my anger giving way to desperation. “This shit’s going to get you killed. Using and dealing are a dangerous mix. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t do this to us.”
“Us?” she scoffs, her voice dripping with disdain. “There is no ‘us,’ Jesse. You chose your precious club over me a long time ago.”
“Fuck that!” My frustration boils over once more. “I’ve been trying to protect you, Kristen. But you keep running back to this poison like it’s your goddamn salvation!”
“Maybe it is,” she whispers, tears brimming in her unfocused eyes. “Maybe it’s the only thing keeping me alive.”
“Your life is worth more than this,” I say softly, my heart breaking for her. “You don’t have to live like this, sis.”
“Leave me alone, Jesse.”
My heart pounds in my chest, and my hands shake with fury as I pull out my gun. Without a second thought, I shove the barrel of the weapon into the man’s mouth, forcing him backward until his head bounces off a wall.
“Jesse, stop!” Kristen screams, her voice frantic and desperate.