Wrong Side of Town (3 page)

By the time I was pulling up beside the other bikes and cars parked along the side of the road, I could hear all the noise coming from somewhere in the field. That’s why the location of the fights changed every week. We weren’t afraid of law enforcement—I think they were more afraid of us—but we still didn’t want to take too many chances.

Tyson pulled up next to me and shot me a glare as he turned off the engine and got off his bike. “Not fair. Wait until I get this all redone. Bigger sprockets on the front, smaller ones on the back, and this baby will be whipping your ass, little bro.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll believe it when I see it.” I rolled my eyes at him as we headed into the field. Tyson kept going on about his bike, but the conversation wasn’t enough to distract me from what I was about to do.

Have you ever been in a situation where you know what you’re doing isn’t right, but you’re so used to doing it that you don’t know anything else? Yeah, that was me. A big, tough Madden who couldn’t even break away from his shit hole of a life.

I wanted so badly to get away from all this, but we needed the money. That’s the only reason I did what I did, why I followed Ryder blindly, because at the end of the day this was how our family survived—from me beating up some guy to the verge of his life.

Sometimes I made myself sick. That’s why I tried not to think too much about what I was doing. That’s why I drowned my thoughts out with alcohol. But Estella had said something that had hit a nerve. She’d said that I’d chosen this life. If only she knew the reality of it; that I didn’t feel like I had a choice anymore—that I was just going through the motions to survive.

If only she knew that this life had chosen me.

We reached the clearing and found the source of the noise. There were over a hundred people here tonight. Some people had driven their bikes up here, denting the tall grass at various points.

Ryder was standing at the edge of the circle and caught my eye. A huge grin spread across his face, and I was once again reminded of how similar we looked. Tyson had similarities to us, but Ryder and I looked so alike, it was freaky.

Same height, same build, same features, same dark eyes. Fuck, we even had the same eye color—the brown was so dark that they looked black.

“Hey, little bro,” Ryder called out as he headed towards me. He was the one who’d started calling me that; Tyson just followed suit. “How’s my champ doin’? Ready to bust some balls for me?”

I nodded. It felt like there were thick clouds in my brain. I shook my head to clear them away.

Ryder frowned as he stopped in front of me, and shot Tyson an accusatory look. “You okay? Did something happen?”

“Nah, everything’s fine. No problems, Ry.” Tyson sounded nervous as he spoke. He was probably worried that he’d get into trouble with Ryder for not taking care of me.

“Didn’t ask you, Son.” Ryder’s eyes bore into me. “Are we cool, Vincent?”

I nodded again. “Yeah, yeah, it’s all good.”

“Good.” Ryder’s grin returned and he clamped an arm over my shoulder, steering me towards the cheering crowd. His voice was low as he spoke into my ear. “You’re fighting some noob tonight. Big guy. Huge muscles, but I reckon he’ll be slow. Conor dug up some dirt on him. He has an old shoulder injury from football. He’s a goner. Stupid cunt.”

I didn’t respond; only nodded to acknowledge that I’d heard him. Instead, my mind was trying to process the information Ryder had just given me. The guy had a bad shoulder, meaning he had a weakness that I could exploit. Ryder was right about one thing though. The guy was a stupid cunt.

You didn’t fight if you had a weakness. A weakness was the one thing you didn’t need because as much as you tried to act all tough and shit, in the back of your head, that weakness taunted you. It was like a voice right inside your skin reminding you that you weren’t good enough—that you would never be good enough.

“Is he one of the Allbrook’s?” Tyson was asking Ryder as people parted to let us through to the center of the circle.

“Yeah, he’s one of the new fighters they’re backing.”

“Stupid move,” Tyson said.

The cheering grew, and people were patting me on the back and calling out my name. My ears were deaf to what the crowd was chanting. It was like I was somewhere else, looking in from the outside. I felt disconnected from my own body. I wasn’t myself. I was somebody else. I wasn’t about to beat up some poor guy; the monster inside me was.

Ryder’s voice was in my ear. “You ready, little bro?”

I barely managed a nod before he was pushing me into the center of the circle with both hands, and deafening cheers met me. I stumbled, blinking as though waking from a dream.

Strange faces swam in front of my eyes.

I had to get my head in the game. I had to win.

I had to stop thinking about a life that I didn’t have. I had to stop thinking about a girl from another world.

This was my world, and in this world I was the king.

Chapter Three

Estella

“You okay, Estee?” Nathan asked as we drove down the long road that connected Penthill and Statlen.

I shrugged, not really in the mood to talk after the bizarre night I’d just had. I was still reeling from the shock of running into a member of the Madden gang and living to tell the tale. Except, I didn’t think I’d be telling anyone because the circumstances that I’d met Vincent under had been pretty mortifying.

Apart from the fact that I’d spent fifty percent of our encounter in a state of horrification, the other fifty percent I’d been distracted by Vincent’s good looks. I wasn’t shallow or superficial, but it was hard to ignore how attractive the guy was.

The way I felt around Vincent unsettled me. At first I’d thought I was just scared by him, but really fear had nothing to do with it. Instead, it felt like something had awoken inside of me—that alone scared me more than Vincent ever could.

“Estee, come on, talk to me.”

I caught the slur in Nathan’s voice, and turned in my seat to stare at him in disbelief. “You’ve been drinking.”

Nathan visibly swallowed. “It was just a couple of glasses after dinner and—”

“Pull over, Nathan.”

“I’m fine to dri—”

“Pull over!”

Nathan swore under his breath but did as I said. The car slowed to a stop and we were both as quiet inside as it was outside. The darkness stretched out in front of our eyes—expansive and never-ending, just the way I felt inside.

Nathan was the first one to break the silence. “Estee, I swear, I’m not that drunk.”

I fixed him with a steely glare. “You know how I feel about you drinking. I can’t stop you from doing it, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. And there is no way you are going to be driving me anywhere while you’re intoxicated.”

I knew I sounded like a parent instead of Nathan’s younger sister and I hated having to assume that role. For once, I just wanted to be the irresponsible one. I wanted to be the one to stay out all night with my friends and crawl home in the early hours of the morning.

But I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t be that person. I had to be the responsible one. I had to be the strong one. I had to hold everything together.

Nathan stared at the steering wheel and then nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. I lost control and I shouldn’t have done that.” He was quiet for a few seconds, and then he spoke again. “Today is her birthday, you know?”

I squeezed my eyes shut as a lump worked its way to the center of my throat. I knew. I just hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it. Why did Nathan have to bring up something so painful? Normally, we avoided conversations about her like the plague. I guess the alcohol had taken control of his mouth and he’d brought up the central thing that had probably been bothering him all day.

“Is that why you drank tonight?” My voice was calm even though something inside of me—something I’d locked up inside a cage and then thrown into an abyss—was trying to rise to the surface and take hold of my emotions.

Well, I wasn’t going to let that happen. I was going to stay strong.

Nathan looked up at me; the whites of his eyes were rimmed with red. “I was trying to forget about her. It didn’t really work. I haven’t thought about her for so long, and then I was driving through town and I went past that shop, you know the one with all the pastries? And I thought about the time she’d taken us all there on her birthday and, fuck!” Nathan slammed his hand against the steering wheel, making me jump. “I don’t want to think about her! I want to forget that she exists!”

That natural instinct to take care of everyone awoke inside of me, and my annoyance with Nathan dissipated.

I reached over and placed both arms around him. “I know it’s hard, but you have a heart; you have feelings. Of course you’re going to miss her. Of course you’re going to think about her. You aren’t cold and heartless like she is, Nate.”

Nathan raised his head so I could only see his amber eyes that were so like mine; it was like looking into a mirror. Finally, he sighed and nodded. “You’re right. I’m not like her.”

“You can’t let her affect you so much that you lose grip, okay? Things are going well for you. Please don’t mess it up.” My tone was pleading.

Three years ago, Nathan had been on a downward spiral that had ended up with him in the emergency room from alcohol poisoning. There was no way I was going to let the same thing happen again.

“I won’t mess it up,” Nathan said, determination in his eyes. “I just slipped a little, but I refuse to fall.”

I nodded, and then gestured to the driver’s side door. “Now, get out. I’m driving.”

A smile broke Nathan’s face and he rolled his eyes at me before getting out of the car and coming around to my side. I followed him with a critical eye. He was only stumbling a little which I guess was a good thing, but there was no way I was letting him drive back to campus like this. He could crash on the couch.

Once I was behind the steering wheel, I drove the remaining twenty minutes home, lost in my thoughts. Nathan didn’t say much either and when I glanced over at him, his eyes were fluttering as he fought sleep.

We lived on the edge of town in a neighborhood that had a pretty terrible reputation. The houses on our street were old and rundown and there was more than one front yard that looked like a garbage dump.

When I pulled up outside our house, I turned off the engine and took a second to prepare myself for what I would find inside. My eyes wandered over the exterior of house as I wrestled with my thoughts. My parents had bought the house many years ago before Savannah had been born and it was the only asset that we owned.

Our house was more or less the same as all the other houses on the street. It was an off-white color that was starting to yellow. Once upon a time, we’d had a picket fence but one night after drinking too much, Dad had reversed his truck into it. He’d never bothered to fix it up so now it lay there defeated, much like the inhabitants of the house.

We didn’t have much money to fix up the house so we had to make do with what we had. Which wasn’t much. Dad worked manual labor at the stables outside of town and we survived on that. When Dad had a bad week and didn’t go to work and ended up getting drunk instead was when we really struggled.

The days that I didn’t volunteer at the Penthill Community Center, I worked at a small drugstore in Statlen. I only got one or two shifts a week depending on availability, but I saved every dollar I earned. I knew enough about the world to know that you had to work hard at something if you wanted to get ahead in life.

Nathan had earned a scholarship to Penthill University and I was planning on doing the same. He lived on campus in student housing because he couldn’t wait to leave home and get away from our alcoholic father. I couldn’t blame him but I missed having him around.

As for Savannah, she worked at a diner in town a couple nights a week, but I didn’t like her taking too much time away from her schoolwork. She needed to keep those grades up as best as she could if she wanted to get a scholarship.

“Nate, wake up.” I poked my brother in the arm.

Sometime during the half hour car ride, he had fallen asleep and currently had his head resting awkwardly on his shoulder. I hated to wake him, but there was no way I was letting him sleep in the car.

“Mmmm…what?” he groaned, slowly opening his eyes. Amber orbs peeked out at me from beneath his lashes.

“We’re home, get inside.”

Nathan let out an incoherent groan, and we both got out, letting all the cold air in. He stumbled to the front door as I followed him.

Once we were inside, Nathan stumbled off towards the living. When he disappeared, I stopped and listened for a moment, but the house was silent.

There was no light peeking out from underneath Dad’s door which was a good sign. Even though it was only ten o’clock, he’d probably been drunk enough to pass out. I was just glad I wouldn’t have to deal with him in his drunken state. I’d been dreading it since his phone call earlier tonight.

***

The next morning, Savannah and I were sitting at the kitchen table when her voice broke into my chaotic thoughts.

“Hey, um, Dad threw up in the living room last night before you got home.”

I glanced up, startled, and met her dejected amber eyes. She swept her long, honey brown hair to the side as she continued speaking. “I tried to clean it up as best as I could; it was really gross.”

I heaved a sigh. Cleaning up vomit was not something my sixteen-year-old sister should have to be doing. That wasn’t her job. It shouldn’t have to be my job either. On days like today, I felt like a complete failure.

“I’m sorry you had to do that,” I said with resignation. I reached out and took Savannah’s hand in mine.

She shrugged. “I heard him on the phone with you last night talking about
her
.” I knew she was referring to our Mom and it pained me that she couldn’t bring herself to say that word. “He went into his room not too long after that.”

I was just about to say something when Nathan strolled into the kitchen looking like death had kicked him in repeatedly in the shins. His eyes were bloodshot and his naturally tan skin was a shade lighter than usual. Alcohol definitely didn’t agree with him.

“Ugh, my head.” He slid into the chair at the table across from Savannah.

“Nate! What are you doing here?” Savannah was looking at our brother like she couldn’t quite believe he was here.

Whenever Nathan dropped me home, he never came inside the house. He wanted to avoid Dad as much as possible. The last few times they’d come face to face, they’d gotten into really bad arguments. Since then, Nathan had stayed away from the house and Dad.

“Nate had a bit too much to drink yesterday, so he stayed the night.” I stood up and went over to the counter to pour Nathan a cup of coffee.

Savannah looked thoroughly annoyed as she took a sip of her OJ. “You’re such a stupid head, you know that, right?”

He smiled at me gratefully when I handed him the coffee, before shooting Savannah a dirty look. “You should kiss the ground I walk on, brat. My good looks and biting wit are far more superior to yours.”

Savannah let out a strangled choke and I patted her on the back before resuming my seat. “The only thing superior about you is your age, and I don’t think that being an old fossil is something to brag about.”

“You are such a brat,” Nathan said with a glare.

“You repulse me.”

The expression on their faces grew more serious as they spouted obscenities at each other.

“You stink like man sweat.”

“You have small girl hands.”

Nathan’s mask slipped and he cracked a smile. “Damn.”

Savannah burst out laughing and I couldn’t help but join in. “Yeah! I won!”

“We’ll see about that next time.” Nate was trying to look mad, but an affectionate smile was curling around his lips as he studied Anna.

My mind couldn’t help but take a mental snapshot of this moment. It was hard to believe that despite everything the three of us had been through at such a young age, we could still have moments where we truly laughed and forgot about the problems in our lives.

The Markson kids were no pushovers.

We weren’t going to crumble just because life wasn’t going our way. We were going to do the best we could with what we had. One day we would beat this because we were strong.

“I’m gonna get ready for school. I’ll see you next time you decide to drunkenly stumble into the house.” Savannah stuck her tongue out at Nathan before walking down the hall and into her room.

“Love you, brat,” he called out after her.

“Love you, too!”

“That kid’s an angel.” Nathan turned back to me.

“I wonder who she gets it from,” I said, taking a gulp of my coffee. It’d gone tepid because I’d let it sit for too long when I’d become absorbed by Nathan and Savannah’s banter. They always teased each other like that but it never got old. They were so alike, and I was the odd one out.

Having fun wasn’t something I had time to do. It wasn’t something I allowed myself to do. Not when life was so difficult and serious. I preferred to stick firmly to reality instead of having short-lived moments of happiness. In my world, there was no point in being happy.

“Hmmph,” Nathan snorted, then lowered his voice. “So, uh,
he’s
not up yet?”

I shook my head, knowing very well that he was referring to Dad.

Nathan slumped back in his chair, his hands balling up into fists as he released the cup of coffee. “Guess he won’t be going to work then. That’s so typical of him. Why the hell should he care if you and Anna get fed or not, as long as he has a bottle of rum to himself at the end of the day?”

My throat felt dry when I swallowed. I knew Nathan wasn’t intentionally trying to make me feel bad, but the reality of the situation always killed a tiny part of me.

Day by day, the situation eroded away at me. The situation eroded
me
. Eventually, I would become a soulless, mindless shell of a person, only existing until this life was over. Some days, I wished this life was over.