BRAKING HARD To Load Read online

  “I’ll see you later, okay?” Jace said, walking back into the room.

  “Be safe, please,” I said. “We don’t know what you’re going into.”

  “I will be, I promise,” he said, patting the side of his leather jacket. “I’ve got something just in case.”

  “Alright, that’s good, I guess,” I said, looking down at my hands.

  “Once this is all over, you and I will go away somewhere, get away from all of this, I promise,” Jace kneeled down, taking my face in his hands. “I know how bad this all seems now.”

  “I know, Jace, I mean it,” I said, hating that he felt he had to make me feel better when he was the one going out into a possible danger. “I trust you, Jace and don’t worry. I’m not getting cold feet or anything.”

  “Good,” he said, grinning lopsidedly. “I don’t think I could do this without your support.”

  “You’ll always have it,” I said, leaning up and kissing his cheek. “Go kick some Carrion ass.”

  “I will if I find any,” he promised, standing and grinned. “I love you, Mia.”

  “I love you too,” I said, smiling warmly.

  I watched as he left the room and waited for the sounds of the elevator door to open and close before falling back against the bed. I clenched my eyes shut, grasping the bird pendant at my neck for strength. Things would work out. I just had to continue to believe that things would work out. I decided that I would save Ferngully until he was back and we could watch it together. I closed my eyes, focusing on the bird pendant as I worked to relax myself. The condo suddenly felt so empty without Jace, the bed cold with just me, but I somehow found strength. The thought of a future with Jace helped.

  I could be strong for Jace.

  Right…?

  THREE

  ~JACE~

  It was an awful situation, or, rather, it felt like one.

  Having to leave Mia after just an amazing night felt like the worst sort of crime. As I stood in the elevator, I clenched my fists. Every second in that elevator—every moment that it took me that much farther away from Mia and closer to all the bullshit going on out there—just made me hate Papa Raven and the whole rotten Carrion Crew all the greater for what I was being put through.

  And, as it always did, the spark of negativity ignited a cracked fuel line in my head and started an explosion of dark thoughts.

  First my father.

  Then my brother.

  Then my wife, our child, and the rest of my otherwise normal fucking life.

  And now…

  Now I had to leave Mia again so that I could go—Say it with me, class!—on a wild fucking goose chase.

  Like Papa Raven and the Carrion Crew hadn’t shit all over my life enough already.

  I sneered, working to catch my breath as the elevator chimed, the doors opening to the lobby. I glanced over at the new attendant—momentarily reminded of the old attendant and briefly wondering what had ever become of him—and watching as he offered me a professional smile and friendly wave. I tried to offer something in return, uncertain if I could achieve anything in the realm of professional or friendly, and hoped that I’d at least succeeded in not freaking them out. The memory of the last attendant who’d been working here replayed through my mind and I began to move faster out the door, afraid that my residual anger at the former might take itself out on the new guy.

  All the more ammunition to taking down Papa Raven, I thought. Then, deciding I was tired of giving him the satisfaction—even if only indirectly—of using that stupid fucking nickname, I thought, No, not “Papa Raven.” Tyler. Tyler-fucking-Kapurton.

  The man my father had once called a friend.

  The man who the Crow Gang had once known as a second-in-command.

  The man who’d gone off, betrayed the Crows, formed the Carrion Crew, and dubbed himself “Papa Raven;” baptizing his new identity with the blood of my family, my colleagues, and my friends.

  Papa-fucking-Raven.

  Tyler-fucking-Kapurton.

  The one who ruined everything for me.

  For my family.

  Call him whatever. So long as I could call him “dead” as soon as goddam possible.

  I took a deep breath, pulling my phone out of my pocket and started to call Danny. I had promised to give him a call before I left for the first chase.

  Chase…

  I grinned, thinking that the nickname I’d gained with the Crow Gang, even before they’d come to call me their leader, seemed perfect for right now. I remembered how I’d gotten the nickname at first. One of my dad’s partners had brought their little girl to shop and she’d had a hard time saying “Jace.” That was the reason they gave, at least; I was pretty certain then that she was just making fun of me. In either case, it stuck. Ever since then, whenever I joined my old man or went out on a job with my brother, it was always “Chase”-this and “Chase”-that. It was an unfortunate and pretty embarrassing reason, if I’m being honest with myself. The name itself was pretty cool, I guessed—I’d always thought so, actually—but the fact that I hadn’t earned it out of some dramatic means always sort of disappointed me. After all, it was a motorcycle gang; a name like “Chase” should be earned either in successfully pursuing a rival gang member or out-riding the police or something.

  But, no. Nothing ever quite worked out the way they did in movies and comic books.

  In fact, before Papa Raven and the Carrion Crew—before all the shit with T-Built and the drugs and weapons and sex-trafficking—it had all seemed pretty playful. Campy, one might go so far as to say. What was now very much recognized as a war brewing between two gangs might had once been the casual-albeit-illegal antics of a motorcycle club.

  Since the mayhem, however—since the leading Presley deaths and my eventual induction as the Crow Gang’s new leader—all that “Chase” stuff had fizzled out. Since then, it was either “Jace” or “boss,” though, much as I hated it, the latter was definitely the more common. Everyone seemed to go back to referring me to Jace, maybe thinking it wasn’t the time for playfulness. I certainly appreciated the end of “Chase,” I suppose, but I wouldn’t have minded if everyone had just slipped around the unnecessary formality. All except for Danny, of course, who still called me Chase from time-to-time.

  But what was in a name?

  Quite a lot, I thought, since that’s what I’m headed out to do.

  “Well, well, well,” Danny’s voice chimed on the other end. “Was wond’rin when ya’d get around to callin.’”

  “Yeah, yeah, sorry,” I answered, rubbing the back of my neck. I always felt like a scolded child when Danny talked to me like that; even after all these years. “I was out with Mia.”

  “Did’ja go to that outlet center I told ya about?” Danny asked with a knowing chuckle.

  “Yeah, and the Medieval Times restaurant. That place was awesome,” I said, smiling as I relived the memory.

  “Yeah, I like it there, too. ‘Cept the knights never choose me to give their roses to,” Danny said, sounding sulky near the end.

  “Boo-hoo,” I said as I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see it, I couldn’t help it. Danny would be the one to sulk over not getting a rose from a handsome knight. I wondered if I should tell him that Mia got one and decided that I’d spare his delicate feelings. “I’ll spare a tear for you later.”

  “Ye’re such a peach, Chase,” Danny replied, putting an emphasis on my nickname and making me wonder if he hadn’t been strolling down Memory Lane, as well.

  “Funny you should call me that,” I said, smiling at the sound of it. “Seems fitting, all things considered, doesn’t it?”

  “Nicer than when li’l Miss Kayla called ya it, at least, m’right?” Danny laughed.

  “Right. I was thinking about that, too,” I said, shaking my head and letting my mind wander a moment longer before moving on to business. “So, why’d you want me to call in the first place? It’s not like I would keep you out of the loop with whatever I
find,” I pointed out. “Why beforehand?”

  “I ain’t askin’ fer information, Jason,” Danny began, suddenly using my full name and causing me to wince at the sudden seriousness of his tone. “You know damn well why I had you call me before goin’ out there.”

  “I’m going to be careful, Danny,” I said, making a point to revert to his real name as well.

  “Bull-fuckin’-shit! I know what ye’re hopin’ for out there, an’ I meant to tell ya not to do somethin’ stupid!”

  “Something stupid? Who do you think you’re talking to?” I demanded.

  “I think I’m talkin’ to yer stupid ass! Y’know, the stupid ass that decided to crash a Carrion Crew party alone all ‘cuz ya heard that T-Built’d be there.”

  I scoffed at that. “You mean the party I met Mia at? I’m supposed to feel bad for that now?”

  “No, dumbass,” Danny snarled. “I’m not expectin’ ya to feel bad, but I was sure-as-shit hopin’ ya’d learn! Ya admitted after the fact that that had been a bad idea; that ya’d gone in half-cocked and that ya likely woulda gotten yerself killed if not fer Mia. An’ that was just fer T-Built! What am I supposed to think ya’d be crazy enough to do if…” he trailed off and sighed, pausing for a moment wherein I could practically see him shaking his head at me. He’d done it often enough. Then, groaning, he said, “Promise me that, if ya see Tyler ya won’t do somethin’ stupid. Ya got a woman who loves ya now, Jason. Ya gotta think about others too. If he is there, he won’t be alone and he won’t make it easy. Ya know that, right? So… if ya see him, ya need to do somethin’ fer me and fer yer woman.”

  “What’s that?” I asked, already knowing what he was about to suggest.

  The question I wondered was… would I be able to do it?

  Even if Danny asked me, would I be able to do what he wanted me to?

  “Run,” Danny said.

  “Danny, you can—”

  “I damned well can ask that! Ya fuckin’ get that head outta yer ass, Jason Presley, and listen ta me,” Danny roared over the phone. “If ya see any signs of Tyler Kapurton, you get the fuck outta there. Pronto.” He paused for a long moment, and I was about to check my phone, certain that the call had been cut off, when he said, “Did I ever tell ya how yer old man died?”

  It was my turn to pause. Then, “Not the specifics, I guess. Then again, I never wanted to know the details, either. Wasn’t he shot-up, though; gunned down off his bike?”

  “Well, pardon me fer sayin’ so, but I think this is important,” he said before taking a deep breath. “Yer old man was pumped full o’ bullets, kiddo, but we’ve never been too certain that that’s what really took the life out of ‘im. He was in pretty bad shape when we found him, gunshots taken ‘pletely out of the equation. Bones busted all to shit, bruised and bloodied. Hell, his fuckin’ leathers was even mangled up something terrible. The brightest Crows we had decided he must’ve been riding when the Carrion Crew made their move. A man can survive a bullet or two, sure, but if’n that bullet yanks ya right off yer bike when ye’re rocketing along at eighty…” he sighed again, “Well, let’s just say yer pops wasn’t the sort of guy who went down easy; certainly wasn’t the sort to be caught off guard. Anyway, the point is that Tyler’s got his ways, an’… and I don’t wanna bury another Presley.”

  I paused, feeling like a child being scolded.

  Wanting to rebel like a child after being scolded.

  And I suddenly knew he was right.

  “I…” I stopped myself, caught myself thinking about Mia, and nodded, more to myself than to Danny. Then I said, “I promise.”

  “Alright, Merc,” I said, sighing. “I’ll run if I see any sign of him.”

  “Yer a good kid, Jace,” Danny said, sounding proud that I’d actually listened. “And a far better leader than you let on.”

  “Thanks for the pep talk, Mercury,” I said and then added, “Now, I’ve got a lead to chase.”

  “Ya do that,” Danny said. “And get back to me with what you find.”

  “I will,” I said, hanging up the phone and tucking it away in the inside pocket of my leather jacket.

  Even if I hated to admit it, Danny was right about not sticking around if I came across Papa Raven. As much as I wanted to end this, it would be too dangerous to think I’d be getting the drop on him. Already, we all thought this could be a trap and it would be a stupid act to think that Papa Raven would be there coincidentally. And who knew how many guys he’d have on him? It was too dangerous to think that I could go in there and take care of it all on my own. I had to be smart when fighting against Tyler, who’d always shown he was brains over brawn. Even when he worked under my father, he’d been the brains of the Crows’ operation. It was what made it so easy for him to nearly destroy everything; what allowed him to succeed in destroying both my father and brother in one fell swoop. Then, to add insult to injury, he succeeded in creating the Carrion Crew within days of killing my family. Within days of nearly destroying the Crows for good. It was all enough to make me sick.

  And, as much as I hated to admit it, Tyler Kapurton was not someone to fuck with.

  I slid onto my bike, slapping at the sides gently.

  “Alright, girl,” I whispered. “Let’s go for a chase, shall we?”

  Turning the ignition, the motorcycle roared to life underneath me, filling me with a rejuvenated sense of power and control. I pushed back the kickstand with my heel and turned into first gear, turning out onto the empty city streets. Most of the city was already asleep, the normally substantial shine of residential lights from the many towering apartments and condos lending to a sort-of half-day until the truly heinous hours of the night were upon us. I was, however, well into the truly heinous hours of the night—a time that seemed best for me to be doing this sort of work—and the degree of darkness I was met with was almost as jarring as the degree of loneliness I was met with. With the exception of a few overnight commercial vehicles and the few drivers and pedestrians who were, like me, likely up to no good, the streets and sidewalks were utterly vacant. This, however, was just fine with me. It gave me a freedom to be alone with my thoughts, and I basked in only the moonlight and my headlights as my only source of illumination.

  I continued down the city streets, heading to the south end of the city where the first of the bodies had been found. I glanced around, noting a nearby construction area, a small public park, and the entrance to the subway. I moved to park my bike on a nearby side street, making sure the area was safe enough before slipping off.

  “Where to start…?” I mused to myself.

  I paused, letting my eyes drift, though they did little work as I thought of where best to direct my focus. Then, letting my gaze follow my mind, I decided that the park was a good place the start, I headed in that direction.

  The lighting was awful in the area, so I slid my phone out and, using the flashlight app—which came in handy a lot more often than I’d first given it credit for—birthed a wide, powerful beam of light over the area. I began to look around, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. With the exception of a few strays frolicking about—and, in one awkward instance, fucking about—and the normal traffic of squirrels and chipmunks, I realized I was likely the only other living thing. Luckily, the park wasn’t too large and it hadn’t taken me too long to realize that nothing was off about this area.

  My next choice was the construction area, which didn’t look to be of much help with any leads, either. Unless I was hoping to steal a few discarded tool boxes or a blown truck tire, it was obvious that there was nothing there for me. The place was mostly an empty lot aside from some construction vehicles and a few spots of concrete that had most likely just recently been set.

  I glanced back, looking towards the subway entrance. I swallowed. I hated being underground, had hated the subway since I was a kid. Something about traveling under the city had always left a bad taste in my mouth. I briefly wondered if I had ever said anything about my feelings wh
en Tyler—Papa-fucking-Raven!—had been around and couldn’t remember. Taking a deep breath, I headed forward, heading for the stairway to my descent. I stood at the top of the stairs, glancing down into the dimly lit entrance to the subway. At this hour, there wasn’t likely to be much down there aside from maybe a few homeless people looking for a place to have a decent sleep.

  Hopefully, I wouldn’t be interrupting much.

  And, hopefully, I wouldn’t find much down there.

  I wanted to get back to Mia and I could feel the sudden hope that maybe we were wrong. Maybe there would be no connection. Even if that meant we were back to square one, it meant that we weren’t any worse for wear either, right? I took a deep breath and finally began to walk the steps, hating how loud everything suddenly seemed. Every step I took seemed to echo through the expansive subway terminal. As I got down, I glanced around, hating how dim the lighting was below.

  Did they always keep the lighting this low? I thought to myself, then decided not to dwell on that as I began to walk through the terminal, looking around for any signs of trouble. As I made it to where passengers would board the trains, I was beginning to feel relief at not finding anything.

  That’s when I saw it.

  On the far side of the wall, opposite where I’d come down on, was what looked to be some recently sprayed graffiti. Though I normally wouldn’t have bothered, the large splattering of red, dripping letters didn’t seem to carry any of the artistic or territorial tone that graffiti usually carried. With a sneer, I decided it looked more like the sort of halfhearted message somebody scrawled as a PS in a postcard.

  And this was one of the places where the bodies were discovered… I thought as I stepped closer, the dread began to settle in my stomach as I saw what the message said:

  “Carrion Crew gonna get YOU”

  I froze, reading and re-reading the message—taking in those big, dripping red letters—and suddenly doubting that what I was looking at was, in fact, spray paint. Though it could have been a generalized message, something meant to invoke fear in any random passerby, something about it at that moment felt eerily personal. And though I had no way of knowing just what I was looking at—whether it was a message to me scribed in blood or if it was even a message to me, at all—I felt a nervous chill. I stepped back once again, looking around the area, wondering if I was being watched.