Patience

Chapter 14 - God Damn Demands

Family is an interesting thing; you're born into an already established web of lies. Whether big or small, in some way they're bound to be dangerous, I'd learnt that the hard way.

On most occasions the people we love the most are the ones likely to hurt us because it isn't guaranteed that they love us back. To love fiercely is to trust boldly, blindly, unflinchingly and you come into this world loving those that gave you life by default.

When I was growing up, there was a time where I was convinced that I'd done something wrong, that I deserved to be treated as less because surely I'd messed up in someway to make my dad treat me the way he did. Then, after a few years I tried to rationalize with myself, that maybe it was a reflection of his self-hate, self-doubt combined with how he was treated as a kid himself. That he didn't know any better because that's how he was brought up too? Because I'd seen the way he would flinch in front of my grandpa, I'd seen how he got spoken to. I thought that maybe he would stop eventually, decide that he didn't want to be like the man that haunted him but when nothing changed year after year, I knew that there was no coming back from this for him. That he would be this man forever.

The problem with abuse, domestic violence and generational trauma is that it is often too subtle for the outside world to see. When I was younger, we used to have people over all the time. Our house was clean, we lived in a big home and the walls were covered with a happy smiling family but that family wasn't real. No one knew what happened behind closed doors and I had been conditioned to think our life was normal and when I started to question it, apologies were replaced by threats.

The pounding in my head only intensifies as I looked around, squinting as the sun streams in through my windshield. Heaving in a breath, I flick my gaze to the right, taking in Manny's long body. We were about 10 minutes away from where we were meeting Adam and almost 30 minutes early. If there was one thing my dad told me that I remembered and still carried with me to this day, it was that to have the upper hand on someone was to make sure to always be early, be prepared to strike, have your closing statement ready and to never think you know what their next move is.

"You alright, kid?" Comes Manny's hoarse voice as he shifts the car into park and reaches for his seatbelt.

Rubbing my hands down my face and then back up to cover my eyes, I give a small nod. It's been a long week, a weird, creepily quiet week. I haven't heard from Hunter since he had dinner at my place and fell asleep with me on the couch over a week ago, there's been no replies to my text messages or emails and this uneasy, sickening feeling has been living in my stomach since. Thomas, shifts at the pub and arranging runs have kept me busy but his sudden disappearance from my life has been shoved in my face every time I show up to my lectures and he's missing.

"Let's get in there before he shows up." Manny grumbles, his voice breaking through my thoughts just as the three other cars pull up beside us, filled with our reinforcements.

Making our way inside the abandoned, run down restaurant, I take in a breath as I try to prepare myself for what is to come, trying to calm the wave of anger taking control. Over the last few days, we've been working on getting as much information as we can on Adam and the people he has surrounded himself with, on finding out his plans, on watching his every move and making plans of our own.

I take a seat at one of the only wooden dining tables left set out, Manny taking a stand just behind me to the left. Three of his biker friends directly behind him and some of our Runners line the wall at the back of the room, whispering to one another before Lisa makes her way to stand next to Manuel. 

Show time. "He's here." She whispers with one moment to spare before the front door clangs against the wall, marking their entrance.

Except Adam isn't the first person to enter the room, two large men walk toward me. One of them incredibly familiar, the one I placed myself in charge of following over the last four days. The second person on my hit list after my own father, his white toothed smile reaching me from where he stopped five feet away just as my father approaches behind them.