The Clubhouse is not a place I want to be picking David’s son up from, but it’s the only time little Aron gets to see Kevin, my older brother aka Killer, argh.
I’m not judging, I’m seriously not, okay, maybe just a little. There’s a lot of names in the dictionary to use that mean killer, why use the actual thing. Come on.
I shake my head at my way ward thoughts, and check my recently green sparkled nail polish, Ivy crush. It’s wicked.
The kitchen door opens with a bang and a scarred grim reaper walks out with a limp female in his arms, bride style.
Her hair is like a black curtain of strands, a lot like mine except, well it’s not. That’s dead hair.
Something I’m so fixing.
“What shiny new toy does the big bad beast have there?” I drawl my words lazily.
I used to do it to piss my momma off. Over the years she made it her personal mission in ‘assisting’ me to ditch the glitch or famously known as the ‘Kylie twang.’
She was of course successful but every now and then it comes out to play.
What can I say? I’m a Bray.
My eyes scan over the biker’s black leather pants, it’s old and terrible, but his black t-shirt is perfect. I bought that for him.
I’m about to say as much when I’m startled at the soft gaze, he gives the sleeping form that is undoubtedly unconscious by the angle of her neck.
I’ve known the Enforcer of The Satan Snipers for five years and he’s never looked at a woman like that, not even when he was with tiny Falon. Never liked that tiny bitch.
“She’s our new prospect. A hello to you too Kylie. I’m great and how are you doing as well Kylie.” He lifts his head to me.
The scar under his eye makes the one eye seem smaller compared to the other.
It used to have me cringing and flinching at the biker, but over the years he has become one of the very few friends I have.
“You know how I feel about pleasantries Zero. I’ll follow you up.”
He shakes his head with a smile and moves toward the stairs, already knowing I’m a lost cause.
I hate greeting people, I hate meeting people, I hate saying goodbye to people.
Yes, there’s a lot of things I hate, I can afford to.
If you don’t like me, well scratch that of course you going to like me, I’m Kylie Bray.
My momma said hate is a strong word to use. So, I asked her why if it’s how I feel.
She said true hate is something that has to run deep, it has to be unforgiving.
I told her it was exactly how I felt about her leaving me for three years, without a note, message and goodbye. She didn’t even say hello when she returned. Well that just had her leaving the room, end of conversation.
I trail behind the big biker, my boots heavy on the dark grey carpeted stair case.
“You saw my Kevin?”
“He’s gone out, why what’s up? You need something?”
I fling my hair to the side as my denim covered legs climb higher up. I almost groan as the masculine products fill my nose as we pass the bathroom.
Finally, I’m away from the disinfectant clogging my brains downstairs.
We stop at the eighth door.
I open the white princess cut door for him to go in first with his damsel.
“Nope, came to see if Aron wanted to join Diamond and me for the horse trails and check on Storm but they both gone riding, wanted to see Kevin before I head out but he ain’t here.”
“Ain’t gonna see him now Ky.”
I sigh at what a waste of my time and tilt my head to the side as a thought saddles up in my mind.
Watching him lay her down on the bed reminds me of the conversation I had with Kevin yesterday.
“The reason why my brother doesn’t want me over. She’s Beggar, right?” I drawl in a thick Texan accent.
I stare at the beautiful girl. The one my heartless brother spoke about to David.
I was in David’s office when he got the call. He had the phone on speaker while he worked.
When Kevin said he met a girl and she was homeless who insisted on the name Beggar, curiosity plagued me and I jumped in my ride with a nagging Diamond and drove six hours from Liston Hills to Kanla a day before schedule. It was a well worth trip. My brother has never mentioned a woman in his life.
And I can see why this one is different. Nice pale skin, dark hair that is as long as mine and pitch black just like mine but whereas hers is months away from dying, mine is full straight and shiny. It’s also the color of Natasha’s hair, Natasha’s skin. My father’s 16-year-old daughter, my halfsister.
Kevin ain’t foolin’ nobody but himself.
“Yup, she’s knocked out, probably going to be for a couple of hours. But I don’t wanna leave her alone. Up for some t. v.?”
“No thanks, gotta get back to Diamond. She needs to eat, can’t leave her too long,” I shrug.
He doesn’t need me to elaborate, he knows that Diamond will go days without eating or bathing while she gets stuck in the web of her mind unless someone forces her to do it.
Unlike my brother Michael who has control of his ‘genius’ and uses it rather than let’s his mind use and control him.
Diamond is the ugly and dark side of a living genius.
She’s the one the t. v. shows won’t tell you about.
She’s the genius that the governments capture and keep in deserted places to carry out their sick work.
Diamond is a weapon.
She is what you won’t see coming. She acts normal for all intents but I know she is anything but.
When the urge comes it could be months of her stuck in the labyrinth that’s her mind.
But it’s better than her getting angry.
A cold shiver licks my spine at the thought. My feet take me to the white blinds, passing the bed and I open it as my mind clouds on memories of Diamond.
How do I keep her safe, how am I going to keep her sane?
Diamond is slipping away; I feel it every time she gets that call and I don’t know how to stop them. They using her and they will continue to do so until she’s nothing.
The motorbikes lined in a neat row take up my attention as my mind runs track.
I’m not sure how long I’m standing here when a noise in the room captures my attention.
It starts as a deep gurgle like choking.