Skulls

Eight

Skull

Skull had started this club six years ago with the support of his brothers Killer and Cash who'd grown up in foster care with him. Skull's mom as cliche as it sounds had dropped him in a box on the stairs of an orphanage at the tender age of two months old, with his birth certificate and a necklace around his neck. Apollo Harrison unwanted by his mother who apparently had been nineteen at the time was left to fend for himself until he had met Killer when he was five, after the boy's parents had died in a fire, leaving Killer the sole survivor, that same year Cash ended up joining them as well when he'd been sent into foster care by the child services after his father had killed his mother and broken his arm and leg in the process.

The three boys cut from the same cloth and had an unbreakable bond that Skull appreciated even if he'd never said it. After Skull's was formed, it didn't take long for others to begin prospecting, Skull's was a MC dedicated to protecting its own; to being a family and Skull had run on those principles for years and now as he sat in his office, he couldn't wrap his brain around the fact that one of his brothers had purposely betrayed him. Releasing the prisoner, deleting the footage? Skull didn't want to believe it but when the facts were placed in front of him he'd had no choice.

He'd have to admit though, whomever it was, had gone about it without a slip up, there were no clues left behind to point to anyone responsible— and then, there was the matter of whom had hired the man attempting to break into the shed in the first place. Skull let out an agitated breath leaning back in his chair before there was a knock to his door. Skull scowled annoyed he was being disturbed, "Prez?"

He sighed when he heard Tiger's voice before he replied, "Come in,"

The younger man opened the door before walking into his office, "What is it Tiger?" He asked.

"Killer wanted me to let you know that the run was successful, everyone came back okay,"

Skull nodded almost waving off the news, "You alright Prez?" Tiger asked.

He nodded, "Fine,"

Tiger gave him a look before exiting the room and Skull poured himself a glass of scotch. It was mid afternoon and therefore Skull was right to drink, he needed it anyway, something to take the edge off. He downed the glass before redirecting his attention to the files he had on his desk. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night and that was a given as Skull rarely saw the back of his eye lids ever since he was kid when his foster father thought it was a good idea to keep him in a closet for thirteen hours after he'd misbehaved.

Skull rubbed his forehead gently, his time in foster care had not happened without its difficulties but he was grateful he hadn't gone through it alone. However the ramifications of those difficulties hadn't left Skull unscathed as he looked at his bottle of SSRI's that was hidden in his draw. Again, not many people knew of Skull's PTSD as Skull tended to keep those things private. His childhood, another piece of his life that Skull also liked to keep private because as much as he'd suffered he never wanted anyone's pity.

Even though Skull, Cash and Killer had grown up within the same living space, Skull had always been treated with the least respect— for years Skull had searched for reason, he wanted to know why because as a young boy Skull didn't understand what set him apart from his brothers. It was only when Skull was fourteen did he realize that the difference was his skin complexion. A situation he had no control over and could do nothing about, he shook his head, shaking the thoughts of his discrimination away as he forced himself to zone back into his work.