Page 24 of Venom's Sting
I instantly regret my words, even though I was only joking, all the brothers love my mom, “Sorry man, I never knew you didn’t have a mother, that sucks. I hope she didn’t break out the photo albums.”
Rage’s face lights up. “Yeah, Meli has them on her phone. She showed us pictures of your worm farm from when you were five, your little boy pajamas with cute little worms all over them and even that bad ass boa constrictor you had when you were in high school. She told us all about how your worm obsession bloomed into a full-blown obsession with snakes as a teen. She said when you were a tween you got all embarrassed about your real name, and that’s when she started calling you Serp.” My friend pauses, and I wait for it. “Serge,” he says with a grin.
“There’s nothing wrong with the name, Serge,” I protest. Now I’m an adult I don’t mind it so much, but when I was a kid, I’d get teased all the time and wished I’d had a normal name like Kyle or Brandon. I say, “She named me after her favorite singer, Serge Gainsbourg.”
“Never heard of him,” Rage mutters as he takes another mouthful of his croissant.
“That’s ‘cause you only listen to that country shit,” I bite back.
“Stop deflecting, bro. I’m sure Amy wants to know all about your childhood,” Rage says as he gives me a wicked grin. Bastard.
I turn away from him, feeling some kind of way about my mother sharing all that with my club brothers. Though, at the end of the day, she’s just a proud mom so I can’t really blame her for wanting to share my childhood photos with my friends. Besides, Rage probably egged her on. He can be quite a prick when wants to be.
A short silence spins out between the three of us. Amy is the first one to speak. “That’s a really sweet story, adorable in fact. I was obsessed with being a safari guide when I was little. My mom put huge tropical stickers on my walls so I could pretend to be exploring the jungle. I had it in my mind that I could ride lions, panthers, and giraffes like people did camels and elephants.” I glance over at her to see she’s shaking her head. “It took me years to understand I couldn’t ride every wild creature in the jungle. I remember crying about it.”
Rage just stood there staring at us. Finally, he sighs. “You two had the best moms in the fucking world and probably don’t even realize it. My mom ran off with her drug dealer the day after she pushed me out. I spent my entire childhood fucked in the head about that. It made me a very angry person.”
Amy wrinkles her face in an expression of confusion. “You absolutely didn’t deserve that, Rage. Some women are garbage. Just make sure you pick a better woman than your father did.”
Rage just shrugs because he’s too emotional to speak.
“Since my mom likes you so much, I’ll share her with you,” I say with a grin.
“You what?” Rage looks confused.
“You know, like a surrogate brother.”
His eyes light up. “Are you serious?”
I grin at my club brother, “Yeah, she’s always trying to mother every damn guy she runs into. Why not you? We’re club brothers, so why not real brothers?”
“I know you’re joking, but that sounds great.”
His voice was so hopeful, I didn’t want to do anything to blow it for him, so I just said, “No joke, bro. But you gotta stop calling her beautiful and shit. It creeps me out.”
Suddenly, like a record scratch, Amy clears her throat. “You two are something else.”
I throw open both hands, careful to keep a hold of my controller. “What?”
She gestures at us. “So, the two of you are just going to decide between yourself to split your mother’s attention right down the middle and assume she’ll be fine with getting a bonus son.”
Rage’s expression closes down, and he balls the remaining bit of croissant into his fist. “It was just an idea,” he mumbles in a faint whisper.
“My maman always wanted a houseful of kids, but it didn’t work out. Trust me, she’ll probably be flattered.”
Rage speaks up again, “And she might get bonus grandkids one day. A good mom can never have enough love from the kids in their life.”
Again, the hopeful tone of his voice really gets to me. So, this time, I decide to do something about it. I call my drone back, which we’ve been doing every thirty minutes or so to take a break.
Pulling out my hunting knife, I motion for Rage to come closer. I make a shallow cut along my palm, barely drawing blood and jerk my chin to him. “Blood brothers, your turn.” He pauses for a moment, and I add, “You’ve seen my medical notes, you know I ain’t got nothing contagious.”
We’ve all seen movies where people took a blood brother oath, so Rage knows exactly what I’m offering him. His eyes are glistening when they lift from my bloody palm to look into my eyes. He pulls out his pocketknife and makes a similar shallow cut. We press our palms together and I say, “From this point forward, you’re my blood brother. Everything I have is half yours for the asking. I’ll spill blood to protect you and yours, always have your back, be the first to speak at your wedding and make sure you get a proper funeral when your time comes.”
Rage hoarsely repeats the oath and when we pull our palms apart, we are true blood brothers. Suddenly, Rage is calmer. “I don’t know whether you know this or not, but you’re the only family I have in this world.”
Fucking hell, I didn’t know all his family has passed or run off on him. I feel like a shitty friend for not realizing. I give him a nice hard thump on the shoulder. “Well, just so you know, no take backs. My mom has dinner every Sunday night and you’re invited.”
An uncertain smile pulls at the corners of Rage’s mouth. “Do you think your mom is going to accept me that easily?”