Page 16

FIFTEEN

THE RECKONING

SAME ASSHOLE: JELLY ROLL

KILLIAN

T he first sip of coffee scorches my tongue, yet I savor the sensation; the stinging pain serves as a reminder that I'm still here, wrestling with an unfulfilled mission and the demons that haunt me daily. Leaning over the balcony railing, I watch the rain trickle down, casting a gray veil over the city, mirroring the darkness that clings to my soul—a pairing forged in despair. A shiver runs down my spine; I sense someone behind me, their scent unmistakable.

“How is he?” I ask, taking a tentative sip of my coffee.

“Struggling, but better than I expected,” Cali replies, appearing beside me with a cup in one hand and a blunt in the other.

I look at her and feel my eyes widen in disbelief, my jaw nearly hitting the floor. She meets my gaze with confusion, seemingly oblivious to the dark bruises adorning her neck. Or perhaps she wears them like a badge of honor, indifferent to their meaning.

“What the fuck happened to your neck?” I ask, still reeling from shock.

“Ash happened. I told you he was struggling,” she says flatly, shrugging as if it’s nothing significant. But it is fucking significant.

“He actually choked you?” he asks, shocked.

“Yeah, but I asked for it.” She shrugs again, her focus drifting to the road below.

“What do you mean you fucking asked for it? That sounds like something a victim of domestic violence would say,” I scoff, shaking my head in disbelief.

And that’s when she tells me about their connection and what transpired after Ash was released from the hospital. I can’t help but roll my eyes. I’ve always known Cali had a penchant for seeking pain, a twisted way of feeling alive, just as I do. But after all this time apart, I’d hoped she’d outgrown that need. Clearly, I was mistaken.

“You’re too beautiful to be covered in bruises, Cali—unless they’re from me,” I tease, winking at her, eliciting a smile in return.

“I don't see you giving me any,” she jests, nudging my shoulder lightly as she passes me the blunt.

“All you have to do is ask, babe.”

A brief silence envelops us as we share the blunt, the tension thickening. The rain intensifies, yet instead of bringing chill, it wraps around us like a warm embrace, loosening the tightness in my body and casting me into a state of relaxation.

“You know, if Ash has any chance of getting better—of staying clean—then we all have to stop using,” she finally breaks the silence.

“I’m fine,” Ash interjects unexpectedly, causing both of us to turn and see him standing there, freshly showered and looking more like himself.

I shake my head in disbelief. “No way. If you’re clean, then we’ll get clean too, brother. We’re in this shit together—no matter fucking what.” I flash him a smile, but inside, I’m quaking with fucking fear.

I can’t remember the last day I was fully sober; getting high is the only way I know to cope with the chaos in my life. It’s the only thing that numbs the pain. Honestly, I wouldn’t even know where to start if that comfort were stripped away. Looking at him, I know he can see the turmoil in my eyes, but my smile remains unwavering, hoping he buys the facade I'm maintaining.

“Man, it’s been ages since the four of us have been together like this,” Dom announces as he steps onto the balcony, a smile on his face and tears glistening in his eyes as he looks at Ash—evidently, a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

He wraps an arm around Ash, pulling him into a hug. Ash then yanks me into the embrace, and I grasp Cali’s wrist, pulling her in too. The four of us share the longest group hug we've ever had.

But it’s short-lived.

Cali breaks free first, torment clouding her eyes as she gazes out at the dreary city, the rain continuing to fall and drench everything in its path. Before she even speaks, I instinctively know what’s occupying her mind; it’s the same thing gnawing at me, an unrelenting obsession with death.

“So, I have Gunnar tied up at the abandoned warehouse on Third Street. Who wants to come with me while I take care of him?” She asks casually, taking a deep drag from her cigarette.

“I’ll come,” Ash replies immediately, stepping up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Yeah, I’m in too,” Dom adds, looking at me expectantly.

I shake my head, holding back the truth. I have plans they’re unaware of. “Can’t. Five and I are heading out for one last stakeout at my father’s place. I want him gone so I can finally move on, like the rest of you,” I inform them, bracing for protests that surprisingly never come.

“Okay, just let us know when and where, and we’ll mark him off the list next,” Cali tells me, a dangerous spark igniting in her eyes, setting my insides ablaze every time I see it.

“It won’t be long. I want it done within the next day or so,” I assure her, fully aware she’s eager to deal with Gunnar first, and honestly, I understand.

As the rain continues to pour, my resolve strengthens, combined with the urgency gnawing at my gut. I catch Dom's gaze as he leans against the railing, face set, as if he's debating whether to pry further. I respect his silence, even as I feel the impending storm of confrontation brewing between us.

“Just—just be careful, okay?” Dom finally says, his voice low, threading concern through the layers of bravado in his usually playful demeanor.

“I’ll be fine,” I reply.

But will I? The thought wraps around my mind like a snake, squeezing tighter with every passing second. My plan feels solid, yet beyond the adrenaline lies a quagmire of uncertainty. I’ve seen what vengeance can do to people—to myself. Still, the part of me that has craved retribution for so long and that isn’t willing to let go of the past, pushes me forward.

Cali's voice interrupts my thoughts. “Well, then it’s settled. One mission at a time,” she says, her tone shifting to one of authority, though her hands tremble slightly as she flicks ash from her cigarette into the abyss. “But I need my Ash with me—right now, he’s my lifeline.”

“Go,” I urge them, even as the words feel heavy on my tongue. “Just remember to keep it clean.”

The moment hangs between us, soaked in both camaraderie and a lingering bitterness, heavy like the humidity in the air. I watch them depart, Ash slipping his arm around Cali as they make their way down the hallway with Dom following close behind them.

Once they’re gone, the weight settles more heavily on my chest. I stub out the rest of my cigarette and lean back against the railing. The rhythmic patter of rain fills the silence left behind. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.

But my mind is still racing with thoughts of my father and his men and the fight that lay ahead. I’ve been to hell and back getting this close, and yet, I know it could all come tumbling down. I pull my phone from my pocket, scrolling through messages that appear mundane but serve as constant reminders of the shattered world I inhabit. I’m about to call Five when the soft chime of an incoming text distracts me. It’s from our mutual contact—a simple message:

Your father's been on the move. Watch your back.

Thanks, but I won't have to watch it for much longer.

My heart lurches. The shadows of the city are alive, shifting and changing with every decision I make. The rain falls harder, drowning my doubts, but not the flicker of dread. I pull away from the railing, dismissing the weight of uncertainty for now. It’s time to gather the few resources I have left. I’ll need everything at my disposal, including the darkness that has guided me thus far.

Just before heading inside, I glance back at the cityscape, realization hitting me hard: there’s no way forward without the ghosts of my choices trailing behind me.

When Five arrives, I provide him with my plan, the precision of it all feeling almost like a waltz—a dance we have both perfected. But as I think of Cali, Ash, and Dom, I can’t shake the feeling that every step we take spirals us deeper into danger, that with Gunnar’s blood on their hands, it may unknowingly drag them further down into darkness too.

“Let’s move,” Five says, the urgency of his voice propelling me forward.

Together, we slip into the shadows of the night, the rain bringing forth secrets of its own. The car offers solace as we navigate the slick streets, but peril rides on every gust of wind.

“Does Cali think she’s fucking invincible?” Five asks, cutting through the fog of my thoughts.

“Invincible? More like reckless,” I retort, fighting against the guilt clawing at my insides. “But in our world, fuck, who isn’t?”

Underneath it all, there’s something far more dangerous than any bullet or knife waiting for me. A reckoning. And as we pull up outside my father's house, I know that I’m on the brink of crossing a line from which I may never return.

I turn to Five, sharing a look that says everything that needs to be said: this isn’t just about my father anymore. It’s about all of us—survival, shattered pasts, and an uncertain future.

With a deep breath, I shut off the car, slipping into the storm that awaits. The night is alive with tension as I step from the car, the chill seeping through my clothes and entwining with my racing thoughts. Rain pours down in sheets, masking any sound but the steady drumming against the pavement. I glance at Five, who remains alert, eyes scanning the perimeter like a wolf on the hunt. Together, we slip into the darkness, shadows merging with shadows.

“Just like we practiced,” Five whispers, a reminder that echoes the countless training sessions we endured together.

I nod, my throat tightening as memories wash over me—the days spent learning to channel my pain into precision, building a fortress around my heart.

We approach the house, its outline ominous against the stormy sky. The glow of a few scattered lights peeks through, illuminating the turmoil within—a microcosm of everything that has driven us here. The door, a guardian of the past I’ve both feared and revered, awaits us.

“Ready?” Five asks, his voice steady despite the weight of the moment. I can see determination in his posture, a promise that he’ll have my back whatever happens next.

“As I’ll ever be,” I reply, my stomach twisting with a mix of dread and resolve.

With a nod, we move toward the back alley, where broken bottles and discarded memories litter the ground. Every step feels amplified in the stillness of the rain—my heartbeat drums in my ears, the mix of adrenaline and anxiety racing through my veins.

“Just keep an eye out for any of his men. I get the feeling he’s not alone,” I say as we approach the dimly lit backdoor.

With a swift motion, Five produces a lock picking tool, his nimble fingers working with practiced ease. “Always the optimist, aren’t you?” he smirks, but there’s an edge to it—one that tells me he understands the stakes just as well as I do.

The lock clicks softly, and there's a rush of air as the door creaks open. Stepping inside, the stale scent of smoke and alcohol wraps around us like an unwelcome embrace. Dim lights flicker from the living room, bathing the space in an eerie glow. We move like phantoms through the house, each corner whispering secrets of a family shattered and rebuilt in shadows.

“Basement,” Five mutters, gesturing toward the staircase that spirals into darkness below.

I nod in agreement, the storm outside echoing the tempest brewing inside me. I know my father is down there, and the memories attached to him churn a storm that threatens to spill over.

We descend the steps, the wood creaking under our weight. The air grows colder, dampness seeping into my skin. Each step brings me closer to the confrontation I’ve already envisioned a thousand times in my mind, every outcome laced with blood and vengeance.

At the bottom, I hear murmurs, low and harsh. As we step cautiously into the room, I catch glimpses of silhouettes—my father at the center, flanked by a couple of rough-looking men, their expressions a mockery of loyalty. The tension escalates as my entrance interrupts their whispered plotting.

“Ah, the prodigal son returns,” my father sneers, his voice dripping with condescension—a tone I’ve learned to loathe.

“Looks like the prodigal son has come to settle some debts,” I retort, the cold steel of my resolve surprising even myself. No turning back now.

Five stands vigilant beside me, his presence grounding, reassuring. I can feel the anticipation hanging in the air, heavy as lead.

“Come to plead your case?” One of the men laughs, but it’s a hollow sound, as if he knows the weight of the world is poised against them, ready to crash down.

“Right. Because you can’t keep reapin’ what you sow,” I reply, stepping further into the room, eyes locked on my father.

His expression shifts, anger flickering in the depths of his eyes—a mirror of the hatred and anger raging inside me. With a wave, he dismisses the men beside him, their hesitance palpable before slipping back into the shadows.

But before they can disappear out of sight, Five takes out his gun and fires rapidly, hitting each man in the center of their foreheads, making them drop to the floor like flies. Tonight wasn't supposed to happen like this, but we all know how fast plans change. I just don't know if I'll be able to live with myself if Cali resents me for doing this without her. So I send her a quick text, telling her the new plan and where I'm at, hoping I can hold my father off until she gets here.

“This ends tonight. No more hiding behind your fucking walls or your men.” I glare at him, noticing the slight look of fear circling his eyes as he glances at the four dead men on the basement floor, knowing his time is up any second.

“Brave words for someone who’s just as guilty as anyone else in this room,” he spits, the venom in his voice slicing through the tension.

“Guilty? Oh, I’ve played my part, but tonight, it’s your turn to face the fucking music.” Every word tastes like iron against my tongue, a slice of defiance that I never knew I could wield.

“Do you think you can fucking walk in here and strip me of my power? You’re fucking nothing without me!” He growls, stepping closer, the space between us crackling with unresolved animosity.

“Maybe. But without me, your empire means nothing.” I shoot back, my pulse hammering in my ears, drowning out the fears battling for dominance.

Our eyes lock, and for a moment, I see it—the fear behind his bravado. The realization that his grasp on this world is weakening, that his legacy is unraveling. My heart races with the truth of it, but even the thought of victory is marred with uncertainty.

“Enough of this bullshit,” I say, my voice steady. “You’ve hurt the people I care about for too long—Cali, Ash, Dom—they deserve better than to be dishonored by your name. I'll end this shit, one way or another.”

“Foolish boy,” he warns, stepping closer, but I stand my ground, the resolve harnessed like a blade ready to strike.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I assert, taking a deep breath. “And this is where we end the cycle of violence—where I break free from the chains you forged.”

The words hang suspended as the storm roars outside, rain thrumming against the roof, mirroring the thunder of past grievances vibrating through my being. I can feel it now—a surge of power flowing through me, fiercer than the adrenaline coursing through my veins. My father’s laughter echoes in the darkness, taunting, but within that sound is the unmistakable tremor of desperation.

“It’s not your fucking decision to make,” he snarls, stepping into a haze of fury.

But I take a step forward. Five stands alert behind me, my heart hammering. “Then let’s make it together,” I challenge, knowing this fight will unravel everything—what remains of my family, my sanity, my very fucking soul.

I'm ready to plunge headfirst into the fucking storm—a reckoning waiting, ready to clash with the specters of the past, destiny demanding its due. It all happens so fast. The first punch gets thrown, and it surprises me, but I still dodge it just in time. I raise my fist and swing, clocking my father in his nose, blood pouring out on contact.

Just as the fight begins—hard blows being thrown back and forth—I hear the door slam and stomping heading our way. The shadows behind me let me know that Cali and the guys are here, and it's time to finally end it all, their silhouettes framed by the flickering light of the basement. The sight of them ignites a flame in my chest, a fierce surge of courage that drowns out the doubts creeping in.

“Let’s finish this shit,” Cali commands, her voice unwavering.

There's a fire in her eyes—a fiercer glow than I’ve ever seen—one that promises that tonight will not end in tragedy for us.

As if sensing the shift in momentum, my father sneers, wiping blood from his face. “You think bringing them will save you? They’re just as fucking weak as you are!”

“There’s nothing weak about us,” Ash replies, stepping forward, fists clenched, eyes narrowed. “And tonight, you’ll find that out.”

The air thickens with electric tension as the remnants of my father’s crew begin to filter in behind him, confused yet clearly ready for a fight, but we outnumber them now, the balance tipping in our favor. And just like the first four, Five and Dominic end up taking out the rest of them, giving them all matching bullet wounds as we watch them fall dead to the floor.

My father moves to gather himself, but I’m not giving him any more fucking time. I charge forward, a reckless fury propelling me as I force my father back with a barrage of wild punches. Each hit feels cathartic, a release of years of pain I’ve been accumulating. The adrenaline spikes, lending strength to my blows, handcuffing him to the past he clings to.

Cali launches herself at him too, quick and precise; Ash joins in and takes over while I gather my composure, their rhythm a dance perfected through familiarity. I can't help but admire them—what unity looks like when it’s fueled not by blood but by loyalty, by shared scars and whispered secrets under fragmented skies.

Suddenly I hear a scuffle behind me; Dom and Five have engaged in their own battle with the last of my father’s bodyguards, a frantic fight where the stakes are etched deep across their brows. I glimpse at Five’s deft movements, the way he knocks out the man with a swift kick before pivoting to defend Dom from the gun the man has pointed at him.

“Keep fighting!” I shout, my voice almost lost in the chaos.

My focus returns to my father, who is swinging wildly, attempting to strike back, but his movements are desperate, fueled not by technique but by anger and fear.

“Just like old times, huh?” He snarls through gritted teeth, the dark glimmer of recognition flashing in his gaze, as if he sees the child he once wanted to mold now standing defiantly before him—a ghost, chasing down broken dreams. “You think you can fucking change anything?”

“I don’t need to change anything,” I spit back, panting hard, feeling my resolve harden further. “I just need to fucking end this.”

With a swift combination of kicks and punches, I knock him off balance, anger surging as I remember all the times he stood over me, lording his power with an iron grip. I drive him backward until he crashes against the basement wall, crumbling to the ground.

“You’re fucking nothing. You always have been!” He hisses, scrambling to lift himself back up, spitting blood down by Calista's feet, which gets her blood boiling.

But I hold her back, knowing she wants to lunge at him. I push her over to Dom, nodding as he holds her back, letting me finish off the beating that's been a long time coming. I take a deep breath, and for a split second, I feel the weight of my past clawing at me—the bruises, the disregard, the loneliness, the abuse. But as much as he’s chained me, I’ve learned to be the force that breaks those bonds.

“No, you were wrong about me,” I growl. “I’m everything you never believed I could be.”

I retreat slightly, sensing that this final blow must deliver the message loud and clear. With everything I have, I launch forward, feet colliding squarely with his chest—a visceral farewell to the prison he’s woven around my life. He gasps, hitting the ground with a heavy thud, the fight draining from his body like water down a drain.

“It's over,” I whisper, my breath heavy with exhaustion and exhilaration.

But just then, another sound pierces the storm—the unmistakable crack of gunfire. A bullet whizzes past my ear. The chaotic symphony of combat shifts abruptly into a warlike echo. My heart slams against my ribs, adrenaline pooling in my veins; I spin around, fear crashing back in.

“Watch out!” Five screams, his voice barely reaching through the sudden panic, as two more of my father’s men that we thought were neutralized spring back to life.

In the chaos, it’s like I’m moving in slow motion. Ash takes a shot to the arm, stumbling back. “I can—” he starts, but before he can finish, Cali is beside him, grabbing hold of him like a lifeline.

“Just keep moving!” she shouts, the determination fueling her words as she drags him behind a table for cover.

Through the den, I hear gunfire and curses flying all around. I shift instinctually, my body becoming a tight coil of energy, instinctively leaning toward the chaos that seeks to swallow us whole.

“Stay low!” I yell, finding my footing again, stealing a glance at my father.

He’s on his knees now, the blood pooling beneath him, the breeze of past sins swirling with the storm outside.

There’s too much at stake here, and I can’t afford to lose focus.

“Five!” I call out, pointing. “We need to kill them!”

We coordinate our movements silently; in sync, we shift into the fray, finding every inch of darkness as our ally. I sense Cali and Dom following, their breaths harsh against the chaos. Each exchange of fire is punctuated with shouts and cries of anger as we launch our counterattack.

Footsteps screeching across the floor tiles replace the fear in my heart with hardened resolve. Again, gunfire erupts, but this time I’m ready. I dive for cover, moving swiftly in a tactical manner, hearing the explosions of chaos echo around me like a distant heartbeat. I squeeze off a few shots of my own, adrenaline sharper with each breath.

I’m shocked at how natural it feels and how real this all has become.

The adrenaline thrumming through me is exhilarating. But a split second of hesitation catches me off guard—I hear a scream louder than the gunfire, and for the briefest moment, the world pauses on its axis as I glance over to see Cali struggling with one of the men.

“Cali!” I yell, instinct flaring within me.

I scramble forward, but before I can reach her, the man raises a fist. Cali fights back, but he’s too strong. I sprint, the panic igniting desperation as I launch myself at the assailant, tackling him to the ground with all the force I can muster. We land in a tangle of limbs, and in an instant, I’m scrambling for control. I deliver a series of quick blows, but my mind races, overwhelmed by fear for her safety. There’s no room for mistakes.

Finally, I get an opening and smash my fist into his face, feeling his nose break under the force. He drops unconscious to the side, and I’m left panting on the ground. My gaze darts to Cali, who looks shaken but unharmed. Relief floods over me.

“Are you alright?” I gasp, scrambling to my feet, adrenaline still pulsing.

“I’m fine!” she replies, determination seeping back into her voice as she glances around. “We can’t stop now!”

Just as I start to nod, I spot a glimpse of movement from the corner of my eye—my father lurches upright, gun in hand, as if resurrected from the depths of despair.

“NO!” I roar, darting toward him, my heart slamming against my ribcage.

The moment feels like an eternity, but finally, the chaos leads us here—the chance to end everything. The pounding rain outside continues unabated, washing away all that has held us prisoner. No more.

“THIS ENDS FUCKING NOW!” I scream, breathless and feral, as I tackle him one last time.

Our shoulders collide, and in that massive surge of force, I can feel it—something shifts deep within me, unraveling the ties that have long imprisoned me. As we both crash to the ground, I don’t back down. I press my forearm into his throat, pinning it down. Glory and guilt dance on the edge of my vision. The room spins around us as I refuse to release him, fury and emotion colliding into chaos once more.

Everything around me blurs—the gunfire, the whispers of the past, the weight of dreams shattered—this is the moment where I reclaim what’s mine. And even as consciousness begins to flag in his eyes, he glares up at me, the defiance flickering out but somehow still there.

“I’m not done yet,” he gasps, fury mingled with fear, hopelessly underestimating the resolve I’ve built to obliterate our lingering legacies of pain.

“Yes, the fuck you are,” I seethe, my voice a whisper amidst the storm, a final requiem to the chains that have bound me.

With all the strength left in me, I squeeze tighter, and at that moment, the echo of my promise dances around us, reverberating through the walls like a mantra. To make it final and to reassure myself that he's never coming back, I shove the muzzle of my gun into his mouth, looking him dead in the eye as I say my final words, "Fuck you," and I pull the trigger, splattering his blood, bone, and flesh all over the place, and throwing his dead body to the floor for the final time.

No more cowardice. No more shadows.

As I feel the fight spark out of him, I know this will set us free—this is the reckoning, the closure we’ve all needed. All I can do now is survive. To redefine us. To bury the weight of his legacy once and for all. And in the storm's embrace, I feel the past unravel, and I am finally myself.

1. Mother

2. Father

3. Holden Graham

4. Gunnar

5. Adam Moretti (Ash's father)

6. David Blacksburg (Kill's father)

7. Jackson Gray (Dom's father)

8. State Senator Pete Gallagher

9. Mayor Kyle Benjamin

10. City Councilman Marcus Rutherford

11. Judge Hayden Wilson

12. Brockton Chief of Police Robert Bailey

13. City Councilman Mr. Josè Brown