He stared at me. I turned and quickly left the trailer, resisting the urge to run as fast as I could.
Clutch was still leaning up against his bike, chewing on a piece of grass. He looked up as I approached. “That was fast,” he said.
“Let’s go.”
“You got it.”
He got onto the bike and I climbed on the back. He kicked it to life and we headed toward home again.
I couldn’t get that story out of my mind. I couldn’t imagine Larkin doing any of the things that Jetter said he did, but why would Jetter lie? It did explain why Jetter would betray the Demons the way he did back then.
But I couldn’t let myself get sucked into his game. I didn’t know why he told me that story or brought me over, but Jetter was a liar and a cheat. We all knew that about him. I couldn’t get blinded by him.
Clutch rode back toward the clubhouse, and I gripped his body, holding tight. Clutch felt like the only stable thing in my fucked-up life.
Even if he wasn’t solid at all.
26
Clutch
I couldn’t stop thinking about the look on her face as she came out of Jetter’s trailer.
She’d looked confused and afraid. She probably wouldn’t admit that shit to me, but it was right there plain as day on her face. I was supposed to pretend like I didn’t see it, act like nothing was happening, but that was getting harder and harder.
I wasn’t the type of man to hold back. I hated not taking what I wanted, even when I had damn good reasons for keeping myself in check. But there was only so much a man could take before he gave in and did exactly what he wanted to do.
Halfway back toward the clubhouse, I pulled off the road. I could feel Janine’s grip tighten on me as I hit a bumpy dirt road, but I ignored it. I was going somewhere on a total whim, not totally sure what my endgame was, but I was at the point where I didn’t care anymore.
We pulled through a short wooded area and I saw the spot up ahead. The building loomed up out of the clearing, old and rusty. It was probably once painted blue, but most of that paint had been worn away over time, and it looked more like a rust-covered steel beam than anything else.
I pulled off to the side and cut the engine.
“Why are we here?” Janine asked.
“Want to show you something.” I climbed off my bike and started walking.
She caught up with me. “Clutch,” she said, “you’re creeping me out.”
I stopped in front of the door to the building. The place was huge, at least three stories, and stretched far back. There were no signs anymore, and most of the walls were covered with at least some graffiti.
“I used to come here as a kid,” I said, kicking open the door.
It burst in and smacked against the inside wall. I stepped through and looked around.
Janine followed. “What is it?”
“Factory,” I said. “Used to be, at least. Not sure what they made.”
The main factory floor stretched on for maybe the length of a football field. There were once machines all over, but they were long gone. Clutter, trash, and debris stood in their place, trash from years of kids coming to hide away from their parents, junkies and homeless people looking for a place to crash, and who knew what else. I began to walk inside.
“Clutch, stop,” Janine said. “Stop. Why are we here?”
I turned back toward her and shrugged. “I don’t know,” I said. “I remembered it was nearby as we were heading home. Wanted to show you.”
She bit her lip. “I’m not sure we should be here.”
I laughed. “Nobody cares that we’re here.”
“No,” she said. “Maybe I do.”
I cocked my head. “You scared? Ain’t no ghosts here, princess.”
“I’m not scared of ghosts. I’m scared of you.”
I took a step toward her. “Nothing to be scared of.”
“You know that’s not true.”
I stared at her for a second without speaking. “When I was a kid,” I said finally, “I lived near here, for a little bit at least. I used to sneak out when my mom got too drunk or her new boyfriend got too violent. I’d come here, sit around, smash shit, pretend like my life wasn’t fucked up to hell.”
“Did that help?” she asked.
“Sometimes,” I said. “And sometimes it was just running away from the truth. Never helps, running away.”
She nodded. “Yeah. It never works.”
“So this is it, some big fucking part of my childhood.”
“When did you find the Demons?”
“Later,” I said. “I was just a little kid when I’d come here, back when my mom still tried to take care of me.”
We stood there and looked into the vast empty space in silence. I remembered smashing what was left of the glass windows, or at least some of them, with rocks. I remembered finding a stack of pornographic playing cards, the sort of score every kid dreamed of. I remembered pretending to be a soldier, running around with a stick that served as my rifle. It was just some dangerous-as-hell abandoned factory, but back then it was my fucking refuge from the world.
“Come on,” Janine said finally. “We should get back.”