My tenses are a little muddled up and I get really frustrated when I try to fix it up, so I apologize.
And I would appreciate reviews, to know people are actually reading/enjoying the series
I don't know what to do with the kid; he's been acting weird pretty much since he got out of the slammer, nervous like, though quiet. He thinks that I don't know, that I can't see his guilt written face, or maybe he just thinks he's just a good liar, but he's not, he's shit. I doubt anyone else has noticed they don't seem to like the kid all that much, just thinks he's handy with a computer. I don't know what he's hiding but I'm gonna find out, even if I have to beat it out of him. Because if I don't get this out of him, it's gonna come out at the wrong time and even worse, to the wrong person.
Though I can't see him, I can hear him dragging his feet as he approaches the garage like every other day, though his footsteps seem heavier somehow.
"How's the car coming along?" Juice asks his voice off key.
"Fuckin' slowly," I inform him as I come out from underneath the car. Juice offers his hand to me, which I ignore and push myself up off the ground.
"You need any help?"
"Ha. This one's way past yeh pay grade Juicy-boy." I tell him as I walk over to the tray of tools I have on the other side of the car, switching a lamp on, on my way, as it's now dark outside and the ceiling light not being of much help. The kid responded with a snort and little else.
I moved back around the car and sat down, about to go back under it when he said, "Well if you don't need my help I'm gonna head-"
"You don' seem to 'ave healed from this, Brother" I interrupted, not knowing how else to put it.
"What do you mean?" he seem genuinely confused to what I said.
"The other day, when we were speaking in the... bathroom. I told yeh, it's time to heal this, but you haven'. So tell me, why?" saying this, I stand up and lean on the car I've been working on all afternoon.
"Look, Chibs, this isn't something that can just be magically healed in the span of a few days. It takes time."
"Wha' do yeh mean it takes time? All yeh 'ave to do is tell the Sheriff ta fook off and be done with it. I tell yeh now, Juicy, your Brothers don' give a flyin' fook who yeh ol' man is."
He snorted and said "Yeah, Chibs, I get that. Just- just let me deal with it." His voice breaking on the last word and his face was stone. Halfway through his sentence he had brought his hand up to his neck and started rubbing his bruise, his face contorting just enough for me to notice.
"Deal with it? Wha' do yeh mean deal with it? Unless I'm missing out on some vital piece of information, it doesn' seem like something you have to 'deal with' more so just telling a guy to shove it." This kid was really starting to concern me.
"Chibs! Just drop it, okay? I'll finish it." His voice was starting to rise.
"Finish it? Finish wha'? Yeh not makin' any sense boy." What the fuck is this boy on? Instead of getting a response he just turned and walked out of the garage, this time his feet weren't dragging more like stomping. I was going to get up and follow him but I thought I should let him calm down before I go asking him any more questions. As I went back under the car I heard his bike kick to life and slowly fade away as he drove off.
After about an hour of trying to work on the car, I wasn't getting anywhere, exhaustion taking over. I packed up and headed out. I had three options in front of me. I could go home and drink myself to oblivion, stay at the clubhouse and drink myself into oblivion or I could go and see Juice. Deciding option one being the best choice, I jumped on my bike and headed home. Juice's house was on the way and not even thinking about it I took a right into his street and parked in his driveway next to his bike. Not knowing why exactly I was there, or what I was gonna say to him.