PREPPY
The dark clouds around my thoughts started to clear. Each time I woke up the horror of what happened and the reality of where I was, separated more and more from one another until I finally realized what my friends were telling me was the truth.
I was free.
I was safe.
I was fucking ALIVE.
And best of all?
Chop was fucking dead.
The only thing that pissed me off was that I wasn’t the one to end the cocksucker myself.
The good news was that I was starting to regain some of my strength. The pains in my muscle and bones turned from sharp stabs to dull aches.
The gunshot wound Chop never allowed to fully heal was finally closed, although very fucking angry looking. The skin around it was all twisted up into a kaleidoscope of distorted tattoos around a huge red hurricane shaped scar.
I called it the hurricane of hurt.
I hated what it did to my tattoos, but that massive ugly thing was gonna earn me a shit ton of street cred.
While my body was getting it’s shit together, Doe and King took turns filling me in on the headlines of their lives. All the shit I’d missed like King finally getting custody of Max. I felt as if I was in an episode of Days of our Lives when Doe told me that she had a son who King had adopted, then they had a new baby, AND she finally had her memory back. I was positive they skimmed down on the details of the story, but I was happy with the cliff notes for the time being. And if I really needed to catch up on more details I could just turn on the TV around 2pm because I’m sure their story line was being played out on one of the daytime channels.
“So wait, I’ve been calling you, Doe...but what the fuck is your name?” I asked, pushing off the bed into a standing position.
“Ramie, but I go by Ray.”
“Wow,” I said. I knew her name wasn’t really Doe but for some reason the thought of her having a real name was still a shock.
“You can call me, Doe if you want though,” she said, and I felt as if she genuinely meant it. “I feel like I have a thousand names now, Doe, Raemi, Pup. Although Mommy is kind of my current favorite.”
“Mine too,” King added.
And as if they could sense that she was speaking about them, two little blonde kids appeared in the doorway. “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mom, Mammmmaaaaaa,” they both called, not waiting for her to answer, just continuously repeating her name just to make sure neither of their parents kept full control of their sanity.
“I take that back,” Doe amended with a smile.
King ran and scooped both kids up into his arms. They kicked their legs and squealed in delight. “Come on you two, let’s get you some lunch. And don’t wake up your little sister or your mom will...” his voice faded as he stomped down the hallway.
“Where the fuck is Bear?” I asked, sitting up. He’s the only one I hadn’t seen much of. “I vaguely remember him being here when I first woke up.” I bent my knees, testing the limits of my joints. Everything cracked and snapped and popped like a god damned cereal commercial, but it felt good to be standing on my own power.
Doe busied herself by fluffing the pillows. “Bear sat with you a lot, he’s just been really busy at the club I’m sure. There's been a lot going on over there since he took the reigns.”
“You mean since Bear killed Chop,” I said. “It’s okay, you can say his name. You said the fuckers dead now, right? Doesn’t matter anymore.”
If only that were true.
“Something like that.”
“I wish I could have been there to see that,” I said, shuffling my feet on the carpet and grabbing what furniture I could as I put more and more space between myself and the bed.
“Revenge isn’t everything, Preppy. All that matters is that you’re here.”
“No, I don’t wish that I was there to see Chop being killed as long as it happened. I wish I was there to see Bear getting a girl,” I said and Doe laughed. “She must be something else. What’s her name again?”
“Thia,” Doe admitted. “You’ll like her.”
“I’m sure I will,” I said, curious as to what the girl was like who made Bear want more than just a quick fuck.
Because if she’s anything like the girl who made you want more...
Doe snapped me out from my thought. “I’ve brought you some clothes,” she said, diverting her eyes from the back of my hospital style gown which I knew was open in the back because I felt the cool air from the A/C against my ass cheeks. “Are you sure you don’t need any help?” she asked again.
“Nah. I just want to get dressed on my own. Feel human again. You know, one small step for mankind and shit.”
“Prep,” King warned suddenly appearing back in the doorway, this time minus the kids.
“Seriously, boss-man? I’m back from the dead and you’re still gonna give me shit about Doe? I mean, in a situation like this, one pity fuck wouldn’t be completely unheard of.” I pointed out, fully prepared for King to sling my words right back at me.
“You can do and say whatever you want, Prep,” King responded, in a surprisingly calm tone. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one confused by his newfound zen attitude because Doe looked just as confused as I did. Then King smiled and it was then I KNEW something wasn’t right.
Or maybe things have changed more than they’ve let on...
“Uh...I can?” I asked, my knees cracking as they began to work again. Slowly I shook the leg out and muscle memory took over I was able to take a few small steps. “What’s the catch?”
“You can talk as much shit as you want to me as long as you’re prepared to be dead again,” he said, pulling Doe tightly into his side. “For real this time.”
I scowled. “You’re not a friend. You’re a monster!” I cried dramatically, taking larger and larger steps as I crossed the room. Suddenly, while doing my Preppy shuffle across the pink carpet, I was hit with a flash of memory.
My hands around a throat. Feminine screaming. Flashes of dark hair.
I paused.
“Was anyone else here besides you guys? When I woke up or maybe even before?” I asked.
“Were you expecting someone?” King asked.
“No, but I’ve just got this weird feeling...” I trailed off, staring at the shade of bubblegum pink on the wall. Although it was now pink, it used to be blue. My old room. The room where I broke down and wrapped my hands around Doc’s throat. It must have just been a memory. A distorted one, but a memory at that. “Never mind. I think my brain is still misfiring.”
Doe sat the clothes down on the bed.
“We’ll be in the living room when you’re done. You need help down the stairs?” King asked.
“Fuck off,” I said, giving him the middle finger, which he returned.
“Welcome home, motherfucker,” he grumbled, unable to hide his smile. It was like our version of hugging it out.