“Most people say thank you.”Įli pats my brother’s back. “Brandon was going to buy his own ticket.”Įli rolls his neck like he’s the one who owns the right to be annoyed. “Yep, they sure did, because little ol’ me couldn’t’ handle the big ol’ ticket booth on my own.” Heavy on the sarcasm and then a hard glare at Eli. “Hey, Stone.” Pigpen calls my brother by the stupid nickname the club created for him. Eli, of course, enjoying the role of savior, has his arm around Brandon’s shoulder as they join us. “Hi, Pigpen!” Brandon is lit up like a firefly who was convinced the rest of his species was extinct. “Is that what you call avoiding anyone from the Terror? Busy?”

“Surprised you’re here, but happy to see you. Because he was a Navy SEAL or Army Ranger or something outrageous like that, he also thinks he’s awesome, but he doesn’t impress me. “Surprised to see you here, Violet.” Pigpen is in his late twenties and thinks he’s all handsome with his blond hair and big muscles.

Then he’s on the move and I somehow find myself away from the ticket booth. I try to muscle my way past to pay, but Eli’s right hand man, Pigpen, plants himself in front of me like the towering sack of testosterone and annoyance that he is. Here comes the Reign of Terror Motorcycle Club riding in on their black Harleys determined to save the day of people who really need to learn how to save themselves. Like always, he has dark hair cut close to his head, plugs in his ears and a huge grin like we should be glad to see him. “There’s a line and you just cut.”Įli, one of my father’s once best friends, glances over his shoulder and winks at us as he pulls out his wallet. The world surrounding me turns red, and my blood begins to boil. Right as Brandon takes a courageous step forward, two black leather vests slip in front of us and staring back at me is a half skull with fire blazing out of its eye sockets. My brother believes in himself, and I believe in him and maybe we’re both going to be okay. A combination of nervous energy and pride rushes through my veins as he grasps my hand in return and fists the cash in his other hand. “I know you can.”īrandon swallows hard, but nods. “You can do this.” I take Brandon’s hand in mine and give a reassuring squeeze.

Long way home by katie mcgarry