Page 21 of One Last Rainy Day
Clint gasps before Sean clamps his mouth closed, uncapping a water and forcing Clint to drink and swallow. Sean taps out another pill, and Clint fearfully eyes the bottle. As Sean moves in, Clint holds up his bound wrists in a useless attempt to protect himself.
“S-Sean, please. I can’t.”
“What? Don’t like OXY anymore? Isn’t this what you were going to steal from your brothers for?”
Clint looks up at Sean, his expression pathetic. “Sean—”
“Stop saying my fucking name. You think I don’t know the psychology in that? You think it’s going to change my mind? Make me think twice?”
Sean exhales slowly in disappointment. “I know you’re flesh and bone. I know you consist of heart and soul. But yours went in the wrong direction. It’s way too late to plead your case. Open up.” Sean force-feeds Clint another pill and caps the bottle before standing and lighting a cigarette. Snapping his Zippo closed, he runs his thumb along his lower lip as he weighs his next words.
“Goddamnit, man. I don’t fucking enjoy this, Clint. None of us do, but your junkie judgment had you ignoring one of the most important fucking rules and betraying thepromise inked on your skin, and we can’t let that go. You know that.”
He drags off his smoke, posture resigned. “This is so much more important than me or you—than any of us. I took you under my wing. I gave you everything I had, and you do me like this? The rules are simple. No drugs, no guns, and no innocents. We don’t buy, trade, or sell people, and we sure as fuck don’t sell out ourown, but you were willing to barter your own brother to get a fucking fix.”
Clint shakes his head in denial as I approach from behind and cock my own gun, pressing it to the back of his greasy head. “I wonder if anyone will miss him.”
Clint screams in protest. “Wait! Wait!”
Sean looks over to me. “Should we wait, Dom? He’s already picked his poison, haven’t you, Clint? Over yourself, over the people you love, over your fucking brothers.”
Clint attempts to hang his head, and Sean fists his hair, forcing his gaze back up. “No, man. Nobody gets to fuck me with their eyes closed.”
“Sean, I’ll fix this. I’ll get better.”
Sean’s eyes deaden, and I know playtime is over when he speaks up. “It’s funny that you’re pleading withme. And I get it.” He gestures toward me. “Dom looks like a menacing motherfucker, butme? I paint a different picture and mostly represent it until you fuck with what matters to me most and well...” Sean tosses his cigarette down and grinds it out with his boot before uncapping the bottle and palming another pill, his expression lethal “...this is where I start looking scary.”
Clint opens his mouth with a soundless gasp, spittle running down the sides before Sean forces another pill intohis mouth. Clint spits it out, choking out his pleas. “F-fuck man, p-please. You know me.”
“Thought I did,” Sean says, tilting his head. “Are you even salvageable, Clint? I guess that’s the question being posed now, right? Good from bad, right or wrong. Are you the bad guy, or am I? Maybe I’m both. But I’m the one who brought you in, and therefore you are my responsibility. Clearly, my judgment was skewed, and your fucking memory is lacking because you forgot that when you fuck with one of us, you fuckwith all of us. Time’s up.”
Clint’s eyes widen in horror as Tyler pulls up inhiscar and exits, dressed like midnight, ball cap pulled low. Tightening black gloves on his fingers, Tyler takes a spot next to me as Sean shakes the bottle in front of Clint’s face to regain his attention.
“How many is too many?” he leers at Clint. “Should we play roulette with your life the way you did with my club? Wouldn’t want you to miss your fix, open up.” Sean shoves the pill in Clint’s mouth, and Clint again spits it out as he sputters useless apologies. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”
Sean scoffs. “Tell that to Fatty. Hope this high is the lowest you ever get, man. I truly do. How will I ever be able to trust you with that ink again?”
Tyler steps forward, his expression void of all emotion as he stares down at Clint in full executioner mode.
Clint’s eyes light, hope in his tone. “I can p-prove it. In m-my glove box is my second burner. You’ll see my text to her. You’ll see the whole conversation. I didn’t talk to anyone else. It was just me and her, I swear. And all I offered her was money. She never knewwhy.”
“You better fucking pray it’s enough,” Sean spits, exhausting the last of his wrath.
Tyler reads Sean’s budding inner struggle and nudges him aside. “Let me take it from here.”
Sean replies with a nod as Clint screams for him while Tyler drags him to the passenger side of the Honda before shoving him into the passenger seat. Retrieving the phone from the glove box, Tyler hands it to me, and I pocket it. At Clint’s driver’s door, Tyler glances between the two of us as Clint’s screams echo to us, muted by the snap of the car door before Tyler pulls away.
Sean’s Zippo sounds, and I turn to see him scrubbing his face before cursing and hanging his head. I step up to him, knowing his conscience will eat away at him in the days to come.
“This is war, brother,” I remind him. “First fucking battle of many.”
“I know, man. I get it, and we’re counting on the loyalty of the one variable we can’t control...people.” His statement lingers, resonating with so much fucking truth as he looks over to me, the toll of what just transpired clear in his posture.
“I was so sure about him, and now...” he looks back toward Clint’s retreating car. Sean’s always believed intuition is his greatest gift, and I don’t correct him, because, in that respect, he’s impeccable at deciphering the good eggs from bad. He can read people easily, anticipate their needs and manipulate them for our benefit if necessary. The truth is, he’s an empath to his core. His kryptonite is that he feels every part of what just happened...while I can remain objective and detached. This situation won’t affect me a second after I drive away, but Sean won’t forget it anytimesoon. He’ll lose sleep over Clint’s fate and carry the weight with him.
“Do you believe him?” I ask as he exhales a long stream of smoke.
“It doesn’t matter if I do, does it?”
