I shake my head, my eyes widening with disbelief.
“What the hell are you doing over at that side of town, Cherry?” I nearly yell. Lip wouldn’t let her over there surely. It isn’t safe; that’s where more crimes in the entire city occur. Where people on probation, or running from the law live.
“Does Lip know you were over there?” I continue, my hand testing the steering wheel as I wait for her to answer.
“I just care about the neighborhood. I grew up there. Can you help me or not?” she sasses, throwing her hand on her hip.
I shake my head, scoffing. I flick my gaze from my truck’s gauges to her, holding more of a sincere look than annoyed. She grew up there? I couldn’t imagine what kind of life she had growing up in such a place. I don’t know a lot about Cherry, a lot of people don’t. Phillip knew Cherry briefly before he was taken to prison. He made Cherry an ol’ lady so that we would have to take care of her while he was locked up. Everyone knows that.
“No, I can’t. I am not getting in the middle of whatever you and Lip got going on,” I reply as nicely as I can. I want to help her, but the last thing I need is to go against a brother.
Cherry scoffs, and rolls her eyes.
“Fine,” she mumbles, turning. She stops in front of a toolbox, grabbing a roll of duct tape. “I’ll fix it my fucking self,” she snaps, walking out of the garage.
What a pain in the ass. I grab the key in the ignition and turn it. The truck starts with a loud roar echoing throughout the garage. I grin wide, the smell of exhaust bellowing from the back of the truck. I press my foot on the accelerator, causing her to rumble. Fucking A.
Jessica
I sit on the bed, looking at the phone in my hand. Mr. Lanks had just called me; he’s the club’s lawyer. He’s dirty basically, but trustworthy. The club hired him for me after everything that had happened with Travis, making sure I didn’t say or do anything that would raise suspicion. I found out that Travis’s will was astronomical after his disappearance. From the house and land Travis was given from his grandfather, the lethal amount of money his grandfather gave him in his passing, along with the insurance money, Travis turned out to be worth more dead than alive. Everything was to go to me and Addie, but we haven’t seen a dime of it. Which is fine; I don’t need it. But it would be nice to put it in savings for Addie, for college. We haven’t seen anything of the will because it takes seven years for a court to sign off on a death certificate after someone goes missing if there is no evidence or signs of an immediate death. From what Mr. Lanks and the police told me back then, all they found was Travis’s car rammed into a tree, with the car door open, and some splatters of blood on the ground. No fingerprints or body parts. I was just told by Mr. Lanks that Travis has officially been declared dead though. The court signed off on his death certificate today.
My hand sweats as I palm my phone, my chest beading sweat from the overwhelming anxiety running through me. I run my hands through my hair, and graze my fingers over my cell phone’s screen. Addie’s picture smiles back at me. Maybe Mr. Lanks is a sign that today is a day for a new beginning. As crazy as Bobby sounded earlier today, maybe he can help me. Maybe I can get a hold of myself and create the life I always wanted. Finding a loving man, maybe give Addie a brother or sister. With the money coming my way, I can slow down at work and spend more time with Addie even.