Shadows Creed (Shadows Creed #1)

Welcome to the Family

“How many times has it been, Seward?”

“Too fucking many.”

“Yeah. Y’know, by rights you shoulda been shot years ago.”

“So what? You gonna shoot me now?”

“No. Take this.”

The guard was bored. Nothing ever changed and the little shit standing in front of him hadn’t changed any since he’d arrived at the joint six years ago. Seward was the same sullen, rat-faced lout he’d been when the Creed had cornered him and his buddies in some dank garage at the wrong end of New Huntington.

The guard held out a red card to the young man. The same red card he’d given him every time Seward broke a rule.

“Here,” he repeated in a monotone. “Put that on record, and get outta my sight.”

Seward took the proffered card with a smirk, a mere twist of the lips, before darting off with a triumphant chuckle.

* * * * *

The smell of oil filled his nostrils making him want to retch. Zacky lay flat on his back beneath a laid out piece of crap, aka the mayor’s Bentley, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with it. His brother was leaning against the body of the vehicle, tunelessly humming and not helping him at all.

“Matty, get that rag, could ya?” Zacky called out as he squinted up at the underside of the vehicle.

“Get your own, lazy ass...” the younger male mumbled.

Zacky frowned, biting down hard on his lip before retorting, “I don’t see you under this heap of shit.”

“That’s because I’m the smart one,” came his brother’s response. There wasn’t much that could be said to that statement, so the elder Baker remained silent and returned his concentration to his task.

* * * * *

Chaos and hate fill the world

Take me away to

Some place better than this

I know a place where we can go...

Brian stabbed his pen against the page he was scribbling on. The words seemed okay, but he wasn’t game to read over them again. Scraps of paper were scattered across the surface of his desk, littering his bed and floor as well. He’d been at it for days, but he could never get anything solid or that he felt was worthy of continuing.

His father had been the same way, when he’d been living at home. A perfectionist at heart, it ran in the genes.

“Fu-uck! I hate this!” Brian slammed his palms against the surface of the desk, jarring the bones in his forearms.

“What, hun?”

His fiancée peered around the doorjamb, her warm brown eyes catching his attention and drawing his scowl away from his work.

“Chelle...this...poem. It’s crap.” He scrunched the page into a tight ball, lobbing it across to the basket next to his bed.

Michelle sighed, coming in to lean next to him. “You should take a break. Don’t forget, Shads and Val are coming around for drinks tonight...”

Brian smiled, thinking of his friend. It had been a long time between shouts. But, considering they were each hitched to a Dibenedetto girl, it was time they reforged their friendship. Nodding to his woman, he swung around on his chair, placing his hands against his knees and standing up.

“Well, we’d better go to the shops then.”

* * * * *

He had five trash can lids. It was a record. He wasn’t certain what he was going to do with them yet, and he was sure his landlord would probably collar him and force him to put them back where he’d found them. But, he didn’t really give a shit. His parents were coming around with his sisters and he wanted to show them his masterpiece. Requiem for a Garbologist was going to be his finest work. A lot of mangled sounds of metal clashing against metal were definitely music to his ears.