Chapter 8 - Ty

I got my piss, but had been left to starve after that.

Just no goddamn courtesy.

On top of that the drugs were starting to wear off; the dull throbs of pain were coming through the haze stronger every minute.

I’d figured out that wherever I was now was a lot more suburban than where I’d been before. I heard the muffled roar of engines every once in a while, which made me guess that I wasn’t far off from a main road in the county somewhere.

Taking in the contents of my space - snowboard gear, two motorbikes with covers over them, and some haphazardly placed cans and jugs on a toolbox against the far wall - I strongly suspected I was in someone’s garage. And from looking closer at what I could see of the bikes, I was about 99% sure that I was in Scott’s backyard playpen.

The cover on the nearest bike didn’t fit right, and I was positive that the tires peeking out were my Diablo’s.

The side door slammed open but my eyes were slow to follow the sound. I knew who it was before I could see, but it didn’t make me like the dizziness any more. The world swirled in front of me and I closed my eyes for a few seconds to steady myself. Losing blood, being half high, and in half agonizing pain had some pretty similar effects as being drunk off your a*s on spiked drinks.

Sometimes you know where you are, sometimes you don’t know where you live. Sometimes you know who you’re with, sometimes you don’t know who you are. Sometimes you know the situation you’re in, sometimes you have no comprehension of your dire circumstances.

As soon as my head cleared and I opened my eyes, reality hit me hard. The Scott from the previous night was gone, his hard as nails, badass, evil SOB mask was firmly back in place. I saw half of a nervous waver in his eyes as he met mine before he slammed the wall over them. And the wall was pissed.

He stalked towards me, ripping off the cover of the nearest bike.

Called it.

There she was, in beautiful black and white. As far as I could see, there was no damage, but I could only see one side. If there was damage, Scott better have been praying to whatever god he believed in, because I would kill him.

It was the first bike that I’d ever legally bought and owned. I’d had bikes before that, since I was a young kid I’d been into motocross. Whether I begged, borrowed, stole or won them, I raced. But my CBR wasn’t just a bike. I’d put a lot of time into it, both parts and riding, and she was my pride and joy.

“Are you ready to stop being an idiot yet?” Scott was standing just in front of my bike, about 6 feet from me.

“Are you?” I jabbed back half-heartedly.

His lips twisted in a wry smile as he turned slightly to walk towards the toolbox. He started pulling tools out of the drawers.

Wrench, ratchet, socket set…

He moved, blocking my view to pull something out of a lower drawer. He set a medium sized plastic kit on the bench top. Then placed an allen key set on top of it.

Wait… My heart jumped in panic, is that a fork set? F**k. M**********r.

“You touch my bike with those tools and I swear to God you'll die.”

He ignored me, grabbing a few more tools before coming back to my bike.  

“I’m serious, m**********r,” I growled.

“Wow Ty,” I he laughed as he set the tools down around my bike. “And I thought I was going to have to threaten the destruction of your bike to get you to talk to me. Here all I need to do is threaten to touch it.”

My eyes snapped with fury, “Go suck your boyfriends’ dick, you f****n’-”

He hit me hard. I went from upright against the crate, to sprawled on the floor beside it. The coppery taste of blood bloomed in my mouth as I tried to keep breathing.

“Tyler Lectavis Jackson,” he said, slow and deliberate, like I was about to get a lecture. Instead though he shook his head, “God that’s an unfortunate name. No wonder you shortened it up. Ty Jacks. Now that has a nice ring to it. But you can’t deny all that intelligence in your full name Tyler. Was dad an educated b*****d? Or was it mommy the w***e who studied real hard?”

I spit half a mouthful of blood before looking up at him again. “My father couldn’t even spell Lectavis. Mom musta been the smart one.”

“Awe, Ty, didn’t you know your mommy?”

Did I know my mom? Helluva question. I hadn’t seen the woman since I was 6 or 7. I vaguely remembered that she looked like my sister, but with hazel eyes instead of green. I thought that she’d always smelled like pipe smoke, but that could’ve been my imagination. Other than that, I didn’t remember much of her at all. In my books it made her a helluva parent compared to my dad.

“Nope. Mom was a Saint to me.”

“Oh, so clever. So cute. You know Ty, I happen to have met your mother. Her name’s Marianne Jackson, did you know that?”

“Christ, really? Again?” I managed to roll myself up back to a sitting position, “Now you’re gonna drag in a 40-some year old lady just to try and prove a point to me?” I was getting damn tired of this.

“No, no, no, Tyler. You’ve got the wrong idea. See I just had a conversation with the lady, not more than a week ago actually. ‘Course, that wasn’t the first time. I’ve been talkin’ to your mommy off and on for months! And boy, she does like to talk about you, once I finally got her to remember who you were. That’s gotta suck, hey, Ty? Your own mom forgot that you even existed! Haha, oh man I howled over that one. My mom was a neglectful b***h, but she never outright forgot my existence. Man Ty, your family really is a piece a work.”

“You expect me to believe that you somehow found my mother, after already hauling in my sister, by some matter of ultimate coincidence? F**k man, I’m tired but I’m not stupid. Try again.”

He laughed, “Ty! When are you gonna figure out that this isn’t a string of unbelievable coincidence; but is actually the results of years of hard work and tracking that we’re only revealing to you in small, unrelated morsels. I mean really Tyler, I can stand here and tell you all about your childhood, and your dad, and your sister, and even mother dearest.

“Like how your innocent big brother used to load mommy’s pipe for her because she was too drunk half the time to do it herself. And how your dad pushed AJ down the stairs when you were 5 years old and your mom had to cover up at the hospital saying that he’d fallen, thinking he could fly.”

“F**k you,” I snarled, trying to get a foot under myself to stand.

He shook his finger at me like I was a little kid about to do something wrong, and just kept going, grin on his face from ear to ear, “How about the day she left, Ty. Do you remember that? She said it was because of you. It was your fault. You made Simon angry. You asked him to come to the school fair, and he said no. But you didn’t leave it there, did you Tyler?

“No, you went and whined to mommy, but you told her that daddy wanted you to go. You lied to your mom Ty. And boy was daddy dearest angry about that when you two got home. You know what she told me? She said that was the biggest fight that she and Simon ever had. And it was all because of you.”

I rocked back against the box in a half crouch. I wanted to tell him to shove it, that he didn’t know what he was talking about, that he didn’t know anything about my family at all; but I couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come. He did know what he was talking about. I did remember that. I’d been so stupid then. I remembered the shouting, the shattering glass, hiding under the table and then wedging myself in the corner between the liquor cabinet and the wall when a plate took me in the shoulder.

Yeah, okay, I thought, falling hard on my a*s, this isn’t a bluff anymore.

“How do you think I’d know all that-“

“Shut up,” I said quietly, shaking my head.

He shrugged and leaned back to stand straight. Triumph shone through his eyes, gleeful and malicious.

Yeah, m**********r, okay. Ten goddamn points to Gryffindor.

He turned and headed for the door, glancing over his shoulder as he reached it with the same evil sneer, “And by the way Tyler, your dear darling mother is only 38.”

Fifteen. She would have been fifteen when she had my brother. Twenty-one when she had me. But damn that doesn’t make any goddamn sense.

F**k it. Deal with it later. He’s trying to get inside your head, don’t f****n’ let him.

But I already did…

 

 

I was dozing, half dreaming when a cup of ice cold water dumped over my head. I sputtered, struggling to sit up and stand, when I discovered the cuffs weren’t just to bind my wrists together. They also bound me to an anchor in the floor.

I finally looked around to see Scott halfway out the door again.

“What the hell did I do to get the nine circles of f****n’ hell from you guys?” I called as he disappeared outside. It was light out now. It had been dark the last time he’d been coming and going.

He came back into sight, expression neutral. “Don’t take it personally. It’s not about you. You just became a more viable source, with us having Karen and all. In fact, this really didn’t have anything to do with you at all when it started. But you’re a valuable tool little Timmy. And because of that, there’s no way in hell we’re gonna let you go.”

And that was when I finally started to think about giving in. That was the first that I really thought about letting it all out. Giving up Kal, and Julius, and The Saints. I’d already been surrendered, since they clearly knew everything about me and my life.

He might have seen in on my face or smelled it in the damn air, but either way he was curious. Like the tiger circling the wounded boar. “You look tired Ty. Wouldn’t it be nice to just give up some information and have a warm bed to sleep in?”

I closed my eyes, not yet Ty. Not yet. I shook my head and let myself roll back to lay on my still shackled hands, “Man, like I care about a mattress. Just wake me up if you’re gonna kill me.”

He kicked low and sharp into my side, perfectly between my ribs and hip, a nice little attention grabber. “Nope, Ty, you’re not getting’ off so easy. Not anymore,” he snapped.

“Yeah,” I gasped, “This whole time I’ve just been treated like damn royalty. So rude of me to whine.”

“God, you never lose that attitude do ya, Ty? I like that. It’s gonna be fun as hell when we’re workin’ on the same side.”

I shook my head, “What do you want? I already told you, I don’t know who’s running competition on you guys, but I know that for damn sure it isn’t us. So come on, next.”

“Time, Ty. You’re still too resistant. Hey! How ‘bout I tell ya a story? You’re gonna like this one,” He grabbed a stool and settled on it not far from where I was laying.

“Is this f****n’ preschool? No. Jesus, aren’t you supposed to be in charge here?”

“Ah, shut up and listen Timmy boy.”

I rolled my eyes. “Alright, knock yourself out.”

“Aw, Ty, did you mean that a little too literally? I’m hurt, really I am.”

“You gonna tell this all important story or not?”

“Yes. And won’t you be interested to know that it’s about your leader-in-training Julius Raven Diano.”

Yeah, alright. Here we go. “Sure, I bet. You got all the dirty details on all your favourite local celebrities.”

“Hahaha! So cynical! Ty, come on. I just laid out a piece of your life, is it so hard to believe I can lay out a piece of his?”

I sighed shallowly. I wasn’t sure what was believable. Maybe everything. I was actually a little afraid of what was going to come out of his mouth. “Alright, fine. I guess not.”

“Good. You’re comin’ around, mind open to possibilities. Excellent.”

“Yeah, yeah, all ears.”

“Good. Because you’re gonna wanna hear that ‘Julius Raven Diano’ doesn’t actually exist. The name’s fake. ‘Julius’ is fake.”

Okay... I tried to pull some further thought or feeling on that but my mind was left void.

“Surprised? No, of course not. You don’t believe me yet. Well, just so you have something to ask him about if you ever see him again, his name is Julio. That’s not the story I have for you though. See, you’re probably wondering, ‘why the hell would he change his name’ and ‘why the hell would I believe you’. The second, well, you’ll figure that one out all by yourself. But the first, that is story time.”

I rolled my eyes to look at him. He’d forgotten the third option, what I was really wondering, which was ‘why the hell would I care’. But he looked so damn excited that my comment remained silent. Like damn he looked like a five year old on Christmas morning.

Christmas… Jesus am I gonna be outta here by then? How many days did he say I had? A week? A week ‘til Christmas. He musta said that Saturday. Damn it’s been at least a day or two here. So what would that be, Sunday? Monday? Five or six days left? God I don’t even want to know what he’s gonna do then…

You aren’t gonna be here by then. If you’ve been here a day Julius and Ax are already looking for you.

But how the hell are they gonna find me?

“-and obviously just kept running,” his words came through my thoughts.

“What?” I asked, unsure of how much I’d missed.

“Your little leader is a born and bred criminal. Not the Mr. Cool guy he pretends.”

“We’re all criminals, asshat.”

He shook his head, looking disappointed, “You weren’t listening were you Ty?” He sighed. “Julio killed his first man at the age of six years. Two men actually. Military men. Sounds funny, doesn’t it? A six year old taking out two seasoned veterans. Cops didn’t think so though. And honestly I’m a little impressed that the m**********r got away with it,” he clucked his tongue as he looked down at me.

Alright, I lost too much blood. I’m hallucinating.

“The case is still open, 14 years later. Wouldn’t that suck, if someone in law enforcement were to receive an anonymous tip that Julius Diano was in fact Julio Dueño Cruz, the kid to kill two highly ranking army officers?”

“I told you Scott, I’m tired not stupid.”

“Alright. I am f*****g with you. Only because you weren’t paying attention the first time. Julio ran for a cartel in Vancouver. His whole family did. And he did kill two men at 6 years old, but they weren’t army officers, by any stretch. Cops busted a deal that Julio was on. Five people died, two sustained serious injuries, and one, never to be seen or heard of again, escaped entirely unscathed.”

“Right. Okay. And I should tally that to the ‘not a coincidence’ column, eh?”

“Tally it to whatever you want Ty, I can bring you the proof. The two that survived, one was an officer. Gave a pretty detailed recount of the entire scene. And, when questioned, the surviving cartel member did admit that there was a young Mexican boy there, but at first claimed he wasn’t involved with what was going on. When faced with child prostitution and trafficking charges, he suddenly remembered that the kid was the son of one of their halcones. And wouldn’t you know it, that halcón was none other than Juan Dueño Varela, Julio’s dear old dad.

“The officer reported seeing the kid fire an entire clip at approaching officers, and there were two security cameras in the area that caught him running, with the weapon, before he seemed to totally disappear. We have all the files, Ty. You can read through the reports and see the photos, it’s all there.”

“Some forged documents to go with your fake story, yeah that’s gonna convince me. How about you tell me how in the hell you could have possibly connected Julius to this 6 year old Julio, if this kid even existed.”

“Ah, ye of zero faith. You can dig up just about anything on anybody if you have the right connections, Tyler. Do you think you’re the only gang that has a friendly officer? Please. We’re everywhere, Ty, and you don’t even know it. But it’s fine if you don’t believe me. I can wait until we haul Julius in so you can ask him yourself, but can you?”

“Oh give me a break with your f****n’ mind-f**k warfare. You’re so full of s**t your eyes are brown.”

His eyes were brown, but I wasn’t sure if it was s**t or not. He hadn’t been f*****g around when he laid out my slice of life on the table. They knew how I grew up, my parents’ names, where I worked, probably where I lived. Hell he probably knew more about my damn life than 95% of the Saints.

Which was making this a damn hard pill to swallow. On the one hand, yeah, he hadn’t fucked with me before, no reason to f**k with me now. But on the other, I didn’t trust a damn word out of his mouth. He was purposely psyching me up, trying to make me lose my damn mind if I had to guess.

And there was that other part of me that didn’t want to believe I’d been lied to. Not just omission, but outright dishonesty. That was harder to swallow. Julius, who preached, lived, and breathed trust, respect, and loyalty; lie to my face? Lie to everyone?

Eto ne verno! Please, tell me it’s not true…

But burying my head in the sand wasn’t going to get me anywhere I wanted to go. If I had doubts, they’d have to wait. I trusted Julius like a brother, and if he had bloody secrets, it was his business. I didn’t like to talk about my s**t either.

Focus, play to his game. If he wants me to buy this bullshit, then pretending to bite could help get me out. Besides, no harm in just taking a peek at their forgery skills, right?

“Alright, say I was curious about those files…”

Author's Note

Rough. Really rough.