It was just the way it was and always would be. Ever since that brawl in the ninth fucking grade.
I hate to say this because it makes me sound like a sentimental fuck, but I loved Deacon. He was the brother I never had. I wouldn’t have made it through my teenage years without his having my back. That’s the truth.
Chapter 18
Hunter
“HOW THE FUCK DID YOU find me, Deacon? I mean, this is a lovely goddamn surprise and all, but what are you doing here, man?”
Deacon just slowly paced and looked around the room, taking hits off the bottle of whiskey.
“This is a real nice place you got here, Hunter. Real fucking cozy. I like where you put the fridge. You decorate yourself?”
He motioned to the toppled over hunk of metal that was wedged between the cot and the wall.
“Deacon, I’m serious, man. What the fuck is going on? This place is far from the biggest shithole I’ve hung my hat, and I know you’re not here just to bust my balls and drink. How did you find me and what the fuck do you want?”
He slowly walked over and sat down on the knocked over fridge, letting out a deep sigh, and passed the bottle to me.
“One, you’re not hard to find, asshole. At least not for me. You haven’t exactly been covering your tracks. And two,” he paused and looked around the room again like he was checking all the possible ways someone could get in, “you’re in the shit, pal. You’re really in the shit this time.”
“Jesus, Deacon. Fucking tell me something I don’t know, brother,” I chuckled, as I took the bottle and drank a good couple gulps down.
“No, Hunter. You don’t fucking know. Your old man,” he stopped mid-sentence and leaned his arms on his knees. “Your old man is on the fucking war path. What are the two most important things to that miserable old cunt? Money and reputation, right? They’re all he has in his joke of a life, and you took a big chunk of one and spit in the face of the other. He’s fucking losing it, Hunter. Tearing the neighborhood apart trying to figure out what the fuck happened to you. He won’t stop till he finds out where you are. It’s all he’s fucking thinking about.”
I knew Deacon was trying to warn me or give me a heads up or whatever, but all I felt was joy. Old man Donnelly had been a thorn in my goddamn side since his old lady had convinced him to take me in, all those years back. I don’t even know why he did it. I guess he loved her as much as his black heart was capable of. First and last time the bastard felt that, I’m sure. As soon as she passed, he made it crystal fucking clear what a parasite he thought I was, and made sure I never forgot it. I just went with it because it was all I knew. Shit, it was all I had. I was a fucking kid. Now, I had finally stood up to him and stuck it to the old fuck. I’d made him see that he wasn’t in fucking control, at least not of me. He never was. He kept me caged up my whole life and now I was out. It was his turn to feel like nothing.
Come find me, you useless old fuck. I pray you fucking do, and I’ll be waiting to shove a barrel down your throat.
“Well, pal,” I said, lighting a smoke. I slid one out of the pack for Deacon. “Good thing I hit the road then, hey?”
Deacon looked up and shook his head.
“You and me both, brother.” He took the cigarette and fired it up. “Your old man is no fucking fool. He’s an asshole, but no fool. First door he came knocking on was mine.”
“Ha. How did that go for the poor bastards he sent over?”
Deacon just smiled.
“It was time for me to get gone as well, Hunter.” He took the bottle back and stood up. “So what’s your grand plan, asshole? You know your old man is coming. It didn’t take me too long to track you down and you know he’s not going to be far behind. You just going to let a storm hit this nice little town?”
“I’m not going to fucking run. That’s for goddamn sure.”
“Yeah? I thought that was your thing these days.”
“Hey. Watch your fucking mouth, pal.”
Deacon just shrugged and raised his eyebrows.
“Just saying, Hunter. You’re up here, in Buttfuck, Montana, in a one room shithole, working as a civilian? I mean, that ain’t exactly standing tall.”
I felt my fists clench and my teeth grit. I just sat there letting his words sink in.
“If you’re looking for a fucking scrap, Deacon, I’ll give you one. You fucking know who I am. Don’t fucking question me.”