Path To Realization (Fighter's Den, #4)

Chapter 5 - Asher

PRESENT

The paper crumples in my hand until the words mesh together and overlap, crushed by the weight of my fingers curling into a fist. Fucking shit. The third letter I've received this week.

I glance over my shoulder and make sure my parents aren't looking. They're busy bickering over which TV channel to stay on so I slink away to the guest room for privacy. When I'm sure they won't come to check on my anytime soon, I open up the letter.

Asher,

We are starting to lose our patience. You know how much of a hassle it is to send letters but we have no choice. We can't risk inside information of the Vice Lords being tracked virtually.

We also can't do this exchange without you. Our people all have their own assigned jobs and all that's left is for someone to pick up the package. Your safety is guaranteed this time. Jacob will be sitting in the van and watching your six the whole time. There's nobody else for this job. Everyone from the Westies has seen the members of the Vice Lords except for you. As long as they don't recognize you, you'll be safe and we will receive the package without complications.

We would hate to resort to more drastic measures for your cooperation. We will do what it takes. This is important and you owe it to your parents. You wouldn't be here without us and you will always be part of the Vice Lords. You can't pretend otherwise.

The operation is three months away, until we put all our safeguards in place, but we need your answer ASAP. For your own sake, it better be a yes.

Next time, we won't ask so nicely. Next time will also be the last time we ask before we find a way to force you. Remember that.

— Mike & Nora

Pure and unfiltered rage courses through me until I'm literally shaking with anger. Fucking pieces of shits. Their nerve is on another fucking level.

I don't waste another second ripping the letter to shreds and stuffing the pieces away in my pockets. I always made sure to burn every letter so my parents don't find them. They have no idea that my birth parents have been in contact with me or that I've seen them twice now. They have no idea I've taken a life. I can't let them find out no matter how selfish it is of me. They deserve to know the truth but my truth will take them away from me and I don't think I can handle that. They're the only real parents I've had all my life and I'm too far gone to lose them now.

I roll up the sleeve of my t-shirt, tracing the large cursive letters that spell out "Realize" from my wrist to my inner elbow, strategically covering the scar I got from my fight with Marshall. I got the tattoo as a reminder of my lowest point and a warning to never fall back that deep. Every time I look at this scar, it's a realization of what I became and this tattoo has served as my wake-up call since. I'm still on my path to realization and discovering who I am now, what the scars of my past have made me in a way I can't take back, and try every day to just be better. I stare at the tattoo now and use it to banish any thought about taking the job. Until I figure out how to take my parents drug gang down for good, I can't risk responding to them. I just can't.

My ears catch on to a third voice in the house and I pull my sleeve down quickly, listening close. There's no way my birth parents sent someone to my house, is there? My heart beats faster because who the fuck am I kidding? Of course they would pull that shit.

"Fuck." I leap from the couch and pull open the door, all but jogging into the living room. Why did I leave them alone? How could I be so stupid?

But then I stumble over my own feet and come to a freezing halt when my eyes land on the last person I expected to be here. "What the hell?"