Deadly Dynasty

Prologue

Spring Break 2018

Never in a million years did I think that I would be sitting in a jail cell in Hampton County, South Carolina, with my twin brother, Wyatt. Never in a million years did I think that a fight after a concert would lead to my brother and I getting arrested. But Damian and Haley deserved it. After all, why the hell would they show up to the concert as a couple, knowing damn well that Wyatt and I would be performing there? We put up signs and fliers all over Islandton and Beaufort to promote our band. They knew damn well that they'd be spotted. But they didn't care.

Damian and Haley didn't care how much it would hurt me to see the guy I thought was my boyfriend with his wife, the mother of the baby I didn't even know they had. My heart felt like it was ripped out of my chest when I peered into the audience and saw him with his arms wrapped around her from behind. This is what I get for dating a narcissist. I wanted more than anything to jump into the crowd and swing my guitar at both of their heads. Instead, I kept playing and tried pretending to be happy to be on stage. Inside, I felt like dying.

Once the set was done, I ran backstage and collapsed into one of my bandmates' (Chris') arms. I was devastated. How could Damian be so cruel? But then, my devastation was replaced with anger. I exited backstage and made my way through the crowd to the bar where Damian and Haley were, thanking people when they complimented our music. And then I was face to face with them, the gruesome twosome. Damian looked shocked that I approached them, but Haley remained nonchalant. 

"You did good tonight." She said with a smirk while taking a shot. I ignored her and instead focused on my now ex-boyfriend.

"So the rumors were true. You really ARE married." I confronted him, my voice dripping with bitter resentment. 

"And the father of our child." Haley piped up.

"I'm not talking to you." I told her.

"Well, maybe you should. He doesn't want anything to do with you." Haley snapped back. 

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention to her. "Well, he certainly wanted to be involved with me a few nights ago in my room." I spat back.

"And yet he's married to me."

"Then why can't you keep your man in check?"

Haley was quiet. She pursed her lips, and I could see the anger in her eyes. 

"Come on, babe. Let's go. Coming here was a mistake." Damian finally spoke as he put his hand on Haley's back.

"Oh no! What's the rush? Please, stay! I can order you both drinks!" I spoke as i pushed myself in between them. 

I grabbed a shot glass full of smoked whiskey and poured it on Damian's head. He stood there in defeat as I did so. I was about to walk off before I felt Haley pour a glass of smoked whiskey onto me as well. This dumb bitch just did not know her place. I spun around and my fist made contact with Haley's nose. I heard the crowd gasp as a thick river of blood spilled from her nose. She stood in complete shock for a few seconds, and then shit went down. 

Haley balled her fist and swung back at me. I was able to turn my head away and she made contact with my cheek. Next thing I knew, fists were swinging, hair was being pulled, legs were being kicked. It was absolute pandemonium. From my peripheral, I saw Wyatt and Damian hurling fists at each other as well. I had Haley pinned to the counter and I slapped and punched her as hard as I could repeatedly until the adrenaline died down. I relished in the look of defeat she had on her face and the crowd around me telling her to kick her ass. But I couldn't do this all night, as much as I wanted to.

Damian and Haley didn't follow Wyatt and me as we pushed through the crowd and waited outside. "You know we're probably going to jail, right?" Wyatt asked. I let out a short laugh and nodded. Sure enough, within minutes of sitting on the curb outside of the concert venue, we were confronted with police cars and we were told to put our hands behind our backs.

Wyatt and I were in the jail cell for what felt like hours. "Do you at least have a harmonica for me to play?" He asked to the police officer as he stood pressed against the jail bars. I laughed from where I sat on the bench on the opposite end of the cell. "No but seriously, this is really starting to be uncool. How long are we gonna be in here?" I asked the officer. "Until somebody pays your bail." The officer answered. It was hard to understand him with his thick, southern accent. Everybody here had thick southern accents except for Wyatt and me. We were from Florida, and where we grew up, people didn't have accents like the ones they had here.

Almost on cue, Wyatt and I watched as two men rounded the corner and approached our jail cell: Allen Maroney and his son, Parker. Allen chatted with the officer who was escorting them, and he shook hands with the officer who was monitoring Wyatt and me. My brother and I were staying on property owned by the Maroney family in a place that was known as the "gun room." It took some coaxing from our brother in law, Kenneth Buchannan, who was friends with Allen Maroney despite living out of state. And since Allen liked Kenneth, as well as our older sister and Kenneth's wife, Waverly, Allen let us stay as long as we promised not to mess with the guns. And just to be safe, the guns were kept in a locked, glass case. 

But despite living on the property, Wyatt and I have never met Allen until now. We barely knew Parker even though we went to school with him, and we would be in the same graduating class this summer. Parker peered in at us while Allen talked and laughed with the officers. 

"Are y'all okay?" He asked us while gripping the jail cell bars.

"Y-Yeah, we're fine. What's going on?" Wyatt asked. 

I rose from the bench and approached the cell bars where the two boys were. Parker gave an awkward smirk and ran his hand through his vibrant red hair.

"I saw what went down at the concert, and I asked dad to bail you two out."

My jaw dropped, and before I could speak, Parker continued.

"The bail isn't that much. $10,000. That's nothin'." He said. 

"Parker we...we can't thank you enough for this." I stammered. I was in complete shock that this boy that we barely knew was helping to bail us out of jail. 

"It's nothin'. Really. Right, dad?" Parker asked.

"Yep! We're getting you both out right now!" Allen said. 

Parker, Wyatt, and I stood back as one of the officers unlocked the jail cell bars and slid them open. 

"You two better stay outta trouble, ya hear?" The officer called out to us as we followed Parker and Allen down the hall. 

We nodded at him and followed them out of the jailhouse and into Parker's new Dodge Ram. From there, Parker drove us back to the property on Mobely Road, dropping Wyatt and me off at the gun room before driving home with Allen.

Little did I know that this interaction was only the start of a years long saga that would leave me to question my own sanity.