Chapter 29 Chapter 29

Chapter 29 Chapter 29

Troy

I had dropped off Skylar and was heading to the McLaren. The weather was cozy, and I had my jacket on as I drove my bike. I was an hour late, but the brotherhood would understand; they always did.

I had only gotten to the door when Micheal came running out from the club.

“There is trouble, man; the Hell’s Angels attacked,” he explained, and I jumped off the bike immediately.

If the rival gang did that, it meant someone must have gotten hurt.

I didn't have much to say as I ran into the clubhouse; they were all sitting around two bodies, their heads slightly bent.

“The members connered us in an alley; we were no match. ”,

I scanned the faces; they were gone, dead, gone for life. The patches of dry blood on both their stomachs—they had died from knife cuts, I could tell.

I scanned my eyes in search of Jeremy; he was nowhere in the midst. I felt it…cold fear. He never missed a meeting, and he was loyal to Earth.

“Where is Jeremy?” I asked, holding my breath. I just prayed it was what I was thinking.

Micheal rubbed my back, but I didn't need his soothing hands or comfort.

I turned, my nose flared, “Where is Jeremy?” I asked. I wasn't mincing one bit; I was everything at once—angry, furious, and disappointed. If I had been there, none of this would have happened.

I had been trained for this; none of them were. They didn't know as much as I did about the gang.

“Where is his body?” I asked Micheal.

This was the blow of the year: “He is not yet dead, but he might not walk again.”

He answered, and I went over to a table, flinging it so that it hit the wall as I groaned loudly.

“Fuck, I failed him. How can I look at myself in the mirror?”

Micheal was by my side. “You didn't fail anyone; it wasn't your fault, bro. ”,

“You don't get it.” I was running my hands through my hair.

Nothing was making sense anymore.

I had flopped; Duncan wouldn't take this lightly. He hated his men down.

The lesser the number, the more vulnerable.

The gang members were coming to me one after the other, patting my back.

“He would want to see you,” Micheal hinted.

“I can't… I can't face him. ”,

“Sure you can.”

I looked at him; his eyes were soft but swollen. He had cried, and men didn't cry unless it was terrible.

I knew that deep down if I didn't see him before anything happened, then I was going to regret it for the rest of my life.

So I followed, just the two of us. John and Conrad were already gone, so if there was something I could do for anyone still holding on to life, then I would.

He was kept in a VIP section of the hospital. I opened the door; the smell of methylated spirit and disinfectant oozed into the air.

The smell was very familiar; I hated hospitals and dreaded it. In my head I just saw it as a rite of passage; anything that brings a person here would surely lead to their death, and I just didn't know what I would ever see to change the concept.

Jeremy laid there, his face pale; when he saw us come in, his eyes flung open, and he smiled. It was a hard smile.

“Troy,” he called out, but I noticed the strain; it took him to call out aloud.

I felt overwhelmed, placing my fingers over my lids; tears were really threatening to spill. Who said men didn't feel?

I leaned against him as we both shed tears; the nurses had said it—he wasn't going to survive it, and him being here until now was going to be a miracle.

How do you say goodbye to someone like this? We had planned on how we were going to get rich. Jeremy always wanted a Porsche as his first car, and he had said if he didn't have the money for it, then he was going to wait till he did. No other car until then.

We had made plans, and now he was leaving. I just didn't know what to do; I really felt helpless.

“I am sorry I failed you, Jere. ”,

“Oh, come on, man, you didn't. I have lived the best kind of life, dude, with you and the brotherhood. You all have been there for me.

How would I have survived the streets if you all hadn't let me in? Everything I have today is because of the gang. I am grateful, man. I forever am. I lived a good life. ”,

“You say that, but…. ”,

“No buts, Troy, I have no regrets. And you shouldn't either, and when you have that money, buy that Porsche in my stead. It should be a light green, all sparkling like your eyes, and you're going to tell everyone that this was what I wanted; that's all I ask for, no regrets. ”,

I nodded; the nurse said the more he strained, the less he had to stay.

I brought a chair closer to his bed, and we talked. It was a lot, but I had promised I wasn't going to cry anymore, so I didn't.

And that was the day I decided that I wasn't going to lose any of my brotherhood or loved ones anymore.

It ended that day. By morning, Jeremy was gone; it took every ounce of me not to break down once more.
I had made a promise, and I was to keep it.

The gang members were in the room the next morning; they were here to see him one last time before he got cremated.

It was a sad day, Red Serpent; we had lost three brothers, and those three had been some of the best.

…

…

...

The game started at around three in the afternoon; the puck had been passed, but I didn't see it in time. Nick took it when he saw how absent-minded I was.

He passed it over to Leo, who was able to strike it to the net; a mark was added to ours. We played for an extra five minutes, and when no extra goals were scored, the Ice Fighters were declared the winners.

I didn't dare jubilate; I was still in grief. I saw Skylar waving at me, but I couldn't wave back. I couldn't meet or kiss like I promised I would.

I was too wrecked for that, so I walked away. I didn't bother going to the locker room because she might be there.

I entered the car and drove off. I parked in front of my rented apartment; it was a big building that housed lots of tenants.

My phone was buzzing nonstop, and I turned it to see the caller. She was calling. I knew if I explained, she would understand, but where to start from was the problem.

So I kept the phone back. It was a long time before I got out of the car and went up to my room, but before I could turn the key, Duncan was there; he punched me so hard that I lost my grip and hit the wall.

He was alone today, and I knew it was going to be a hell of a day.

He flung the room open, holding me by the collar of my jersey and pulling me into the room.

“You are such an ungrateful bastard,” he said, buzzing, with fury.

I smiled, which infuriated him even more. He rushed, punching my nose, and I heard a crack. It was better this way; with this pain, maybe I could forget my grief. The pain could make everything go away.

“I guessed you still failed in me after all.