Six Brothers

Four

The sound of Harley Davidson’s rent the air like machine guns stuck on automatic fire.

Venice Beach, California. The Ross family are Catholic, so of course they’ll do an open-casket viewing before the funeral. I’m not a part of the viewing, thank goodness. I don’t want to see how bloated Chad’s face is, how the make-up artist has chosen to try and cover the angry red splotches all over his face from the drugs he unwittingly drank. So I’m outside the funeral home, fighting the urge to tap my foot with impatience, as Dornan and the rest of the immediate family spend time with Chad’s empty vessel.

I struggle to keep a neutral face as I remember Dornan finding Chad.

Jase and I had finished off the beer we were sharing and gone downstairs to the large communal room that sat off the hallway, adjacent to the garage, for a game of pool. I was equal parts excited and nervous…I had just killed another human being, after all.

My first kill.

I could barely keep the smile off my face.

As a teenager, I’d had the pleasure of kicking Jase’s ass at pool almost every time we played. It wasn’t that he wasn’t good at it—I was just better.

So when it came time to play again, I didn’t want there to be any chance that he would become suspicious of my skills.

“Wanna break?” he said, after he had finished lining up the triangle of balls.

“Break what?” I asked ignorantly.

“Break,” Jase repeated. “You have played pool before, right?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

He laughed and handed me the pool cue. “You hit the white ball into the colored balls. That’s called breaking.”

I stood at the end of the pool table, the cue gripped clumsily in my hands, and he shook his head. “Here,” he said, shifting so that he was standing behind me. He wrapped his arms around mine, his hands covering mine as we gripped the pool cue in unison.

The sensation of his body pressed into mine was enough to take my breath away. I breathed in sharply, hardly noticeable, but just enough for him to notice. He stepped away as if I’d just electrocuted him, the new tension in the air almost thick enough to see.

I straightened and looked at him, neither of us saying anything for a few moments.

“Maybe we should just forget this,” he said, gesturing to me, then the pool table. But we both knew he was talking about more than that. He meant, maybe we should forget about this. This being fireworks, and burning, and electricity jolting every time we were near each other.

I knew exactly what he meant.

And I had no intention of forgetting it.

My rational brain screamed for me to shut up, that it would be better if we just kept our distance, that the closer I got to Jase, the more likely it was that he would find me out.

“I don’t want to forget this,” I said, taking a step to swallow the distance between us. I leaned back over the pool table, cue in hand, and inclined my head to the side.

“Get over here and help me break these balls.”

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, the way he sometimes did when he was unsure or sheepish. “What if I don’t want to?” he asked, this time with laughter lighting up his eyes.

I smiled and stood up, pointing the tip of the cue at his crotch. “Then I’ll break your balls,” I joked, turning back to the table.

Jase laughed at my joke, turning back to the pool table, where he straightened the white ball against the break line.

“You’re holding that cue all wrong,” he said, and as I opened my mouth to deliver another smart-ass response, a heart-rending scream pierced the silence, making me jump.

“What the fuck?” Jase breathed, striding to the doorway. He glanced up and down the hallway, probably trying to decide where the scream had originated from. A second scream, shorter this time, had him turning sharply left to the garage where I had left Chad’s lifeless body. I trailed slowly after him, not sure what to do. I hadn’t thought about the aftermath. To hang back, or to charge in?

Fuck it. I wanted to see what was happening. Knowledge could be power and all that. I hurried into the garage and past the few bikes left.

Just at that moment, the drone of Harley’s began, the volume rising rapidly as dozens of bikes entered the compound. The massive tilt-door began to open and sunlight flooded the almost-empty space. Jase ran to the door, his arms up, halting the bikes that were about to take up their spots.

The sound of the engines was deafening, reverberating off the walls so that it sounded like I was inside an engine. I wanted to clutch at my ears but didn’t.

I couldn’t show weakness around these people.

Dornan removed his helmet and shrugged at Jase, as if to say, what the fuck are you doing in my way? Jase’s arms became animated, and he pointed towards what I assumed was Chad. Dornan kicked down the bike stand and jumped off his bike. He briefly turned to face the twenty or so bikers who had piled up in one big line, waiting to come in and park their bikes. He made a twirling motion with his index finger and then pointed to the open space away from the door.

Bikes started pushing backwards. There were all kinds of yelling and ruckus, but once the front bikes were clear of the door, Jase pressed a button on the wall, sending it shut again with a heavy thud.

Immediately, the noise of the bikes lessened to something manageable. I watched from the doorway as Dornan and Jase hurried over to where Chad lay dead, the person who had screamed still blocked from my view by a single layer of bikes, parked up in front of the spot where he had taken his final breath.

“He’s not breathing,” I heard a panicked voice say, and I froze. My mother.

I threaded my way over to them, needing to know what was going on. The can of drink that had ended Chad’s life sat innocently on the counter, a cleaning rag perched next to it.

“Came in to clean the benches and I found him like this,” I heard my mother crying. I stepped forward to see her kneeling on the floor in front of Chad’s lifeless body, Dornan on the other side with two fingers pressed to Chad’s neck, Jase’s hand loosely on Chad’s chest as if feeling for breathing.

I gasped.

It wasn’t a faked reaction. Suddenly I was terrified. I had just killed someone. If they found out it was me, I’d be a dead woman. Firstly, a horribly, painfully tortured woman; but ultimately a dead woman.

“Somebody help him!” I cried, rushing forwards. Jase stood and grabbed my shoulders, holding me back.

“What are you doing?” I demand. “I know CPR. Let me help him!”

Jase gripped my elbow so tight, it felt like he might snap it. “It’s too late,” he said, an air of finality in his voice. “He’s cold. He’s been dead awhile.”

We drove to a funeral home in silence, Jase behind the wheel, me riding shotgun, Chad’s body laying in the back of a van, Dornan kneeling beside him the entire time.

It was almost like he was saying his last goodbyes to his firstborn son.

When we got there, Dornan asked for somebody by name. He was still calm then, still in shock.

I remembered that feeling well.

The guy wasn’t happy to see us, but he told Jase to pull the van around back, where he had a gurney waiting.

Dornan sat in silence, as did Jase. I hovered in the hallway, slightly removed from them. I almost wished I hadn’t offered to tag along, knowing that if it hadn’t been a Ross son, if they hadn’t been so damn shocked to find him, that I’d never have been allowed along to what they would classify men’s business in a motorcycle club.

After many hours, another man approached Dornan, a piece of paper in his hands. He spoke to Dornan in hushed tones, but two words jumped out, the words I already knew, because I had been the one to put them in his drink.

Pure. Methamphetamine.

I watched as Dornan asked several questions. How much had he ingested? There had been no needles, so how had it gotten into his body? And was there any way it could it have been an accident?

When the man walked away, Dornan took a deep breath, turned to Jase, and bit out, “I’m going to kill the fucker who did this.”

There’s another reason why I chose Chad to kill first, you know. Not just because he was an asshole and a rapist.

I chose him because he was Dornan’s favorite son.

I chose him because I knew, if anything could drive that man to tears, it was losing his oldest son and VP.

It was a good choice.