Read Online Greetings from Sugartown by Carmen Jenner - Free Book Online

you.”
    Kick watches the exchange between us and smirks.
    “What the fuck are you grinning at?”
    “Nothing,” he says quickly, though the smile hasn’t left the cocky fucker’s face.
    “I don’t get it, man. Why come to me?”
    “You’re the only one I know who got out and lived to tell about it.”
    “You just said Dad got out.”
    “He did. And then Prez dragged him back, kicking and screaming. They—” He hesitates, and looks away. “—they tortured him for a week, like a fucking dog in a cage, man. They did things I never thought was possible to live through.”
    I take a step back, and run into Ana. I crouch down on the grass, half afraid my legs are going to give out and make me topple, and half afraid the ground won’t rush up to meet me.
    “I’m sorry, Moose. I know you had your problems, but he shouldn’t have gone like that. He was trying to steer us down another path, trying to restore the club to its former glory. None of that fucking Sons of Anarchy bullshit. You and I both know he wasn’t a saint, but underneath, he was sometimes a pretty decent guy. He didn’t deserve to die like that.”
    I spring up from the ground. “You can’t be here.”
    “Please, I have nowhere else to go.”
    “Not my problem. I can’t risk it. Not her, and not the life we have.” I shake my head, and begin pacing back and forth as I mull this shit over in my head. It all comes out a garbled mess. If they’re looking for him, they’ll find me. If they find me, they find Ana, and her family. I can’t do that to any of them.
    “No,” I say. “You have to leave.”
    Ana begins, “Elijah—”
    “Go back inside!” I yell, and then baulk and bury my head in my hands when I see her stricken expression. “I’m sorry, baby, can you just please go back inside. I need to talk to Kick alone.”
    “No. Whatever you have to say, you say it to me, too. If this affects me then I have a right to know about it. I already have enough people giving me reason to not want to walk out my door.”
    “I can’t risk it. I won’t risk it,” I say. It sucks, because for a good portion of my life, this dude was it; he was my best friend, my brother. He put a bullet in the man who was trying to kill me, and who would’ve raped Ana before tossing her body into a creek. He’s also the reason I first went to jail, and his being here is a death sentence for everyone.
    “At least let him stay the night,” Ana says. Sometimes she’s too damn good and trusting. “It’s freezing out there.”
    “Not my problem, babe.”
    “No?” she asks folding her arms across her chest. “The fact that he took a beating for us, or the fact that he killed a guy to stop him killing the both of us—was that your problem, or his?”
    “Ana—”
    “In the morning you can work out what to do with him, but he’s spent half the night in a freezing cold shed. He’s coming inside,” she says. I don’t like this one bit, but there’s no stopping her when she makes up her mind. Ana stoops to pick up his backpack from the ground. It’s worn, frayed around the straps, and the zipper’s been busted for years. I know because I stole it for him from an Army Disposals store when we were sixteen. I can’t believe he still has it.
    The rumble of a car cuts through the quiet night. Headlights sweep over the bottom of our drive, and make their way up the hill.
    “Fuck.”
    “The police,” Ana says. Her glare suggests she knows exactly what I’m thinking. Kick isn’t exactly an innocent man. In fact, with the years he’s spent in the club, there’s probably close to fifty warrants out on his head. Getting rid of him would be as easy as turning him over and watching him get dragged away in the cruiser, but as much as I hate to admit it, I owe him more than that. I owe him my life. I owe him Ana’s life.
    “He can sleep on the couch,” I say, admitting defeat. Ana gives me a grateful smile. I shake my head. “And we’re handcuffing